Subject Change Warning

Hey. You there.

I’m going to tell you something not very important, but you’re still reading, so let’s talk about it anyway. It occurs to me that simply writing about and complaining about things is not all that great of a thing. And while that isn’t exactly my intention, a look back shows that I’m doing just that. Sure, I cover a few topics here or there and talk about this and that, but I’m still just sitting in my corner whining. And it comes with the risk of essentially being that stereotype that was joked about in days of old, “That kid who whines and complains on his myspace” or emo child or whatever.

So I’m going to explain a little bit about my topics and so on.

Subject Matter? Not going to change. In fact, nothing is going to change. The title lied to you.

What I am hoping to explain now is how things change. Simply put, I could write and rave about all these things privately. Write them all up in a word document or post them on a private blog and never give anyone the link. That said, I did give someone the link. I gave a very small number of people the link to this blog. I don’t think it’s a cry for help. I sure hope it’s not, seeing as that’s not my intention, but eh. What it is (what it is intended to be), I think, is something else. The intention that I think I’ve been writing with is more of an explanation. About me.

I’m a liar by nature. I’m not too great at telling the truth or being honest and I’m a coward more than anything else. I highly doubt anyone will really ever ‘get’ me (as pathetic as that sounds), but what I write gives you a chance to understand what goes through my head sometimes. To have a little bit more insight into the kind of person I am. To explain myself and give a little bit of trust.

But that’s not quite right. I wrote that as if I was doing you a favor. The reality is that it’s not that I’m letting you in. It’s the reverse. I’m giving you a little part of me and asking this favor in return. Please try and understand.

You, who is reading this right now, are the one doing me a favor.

And while I cannot promise anything, I hope to do my best at doing… whatever it is I’m doing. Explaining part of me. Giving a little commentary. Who knows. Just one last thing before you go. While I thank you for reading, please do keep in mind that I gave this link to you. I didn’t post it publicly, I kept it hidden. Because I’m a coward, I’m asking you to hide my cowardly self from everyone else. This is just for you, my few readers.

Early Morning Nonsense

I spent the whole night listening to Broken Moon, watching HIMYM, and questioning where I’m going, where I’ve been, and where I am now.

…I don’t really know. I can barely remember what I’ve done, who I used to be, or any part of what made me, me. I don’t remember graduation well, I don’t really recall my first year of high school, I can’t imagine my life. Right now, I have an hour before I need to leave for class and I have absolutely no idea of anything.

I don’t want to grow up and, five years from now, wonder if I’ll still be this alone, this confused, and this… empty. There’s nothing in my past, there’s nothing in my future, and my present is all one big hoax I’ve created to pretend to myself that I mean something. That I’m worth something.

But I know that if I disappeared tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter. You might be sad. You might even cry, but you’ll move on. Everyone moves on. I don’t want your fake tears. I don’t want your fake sympathy.

But that’s all I can do. I can only say things I don’t want, things I am not… I can’t describe myself in terms of who I am, I can only set limits on what I’m not. I don’t remember the last time I could openly talk about myself, speak honestly, to be truthful.

I’ve even sunk so low as to create fake names and stories for myself, simply because I don’t like who I am and what I am. So is that it then? I wonder, I wonder, I wonder…

Of course, I couldn’t post this on facebook. I couldn’t post this anywhere but here, where I know almost no one will see it. I don’t know if I’m hoping no one reads it or not. I just… don’t know.

And this is just a fantastic first post after a whole… over half a year of not writing. This blog was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to be something more than me just whining about how I don’t like my life, even though it’s great. It was supposed to do something, but nothing’s happening. Because I don’t want anyone to read it. Because I need somewhere to visibly complain and I don’t want anyone to worry. Because something needs to happen, but I don’t know what. This place will just fill up, more and more and more, with all the useless things that don’t do anyone good. Rather than Indistinct Snow, perhaps it’d be better to call it a Trash Dump. A place where your heart goes to die.

Or laments about being already dead.

I’ll fix the settings later. For now, do whatever you want. – Broken Moon


It’s 3:30 in the morning and I’m on my fifth draft of this post. Just what exactly am I doing… So once more, you all can see the lack of a beginning that seems to start off my posts. I’ve been sitting here since 1:00, surveying the darkness around me and wondering just what it was I wanted to say. I suppose I sealed this blog’s end with my last post, the one prior to Chapter Zero. I talked about Cowardice, and in specific, my own cowardice. I said things I probably shouldn’t have, I mentioned parts of me that are better kept hidden. I don’t know why this is here anymore. Why am I writing? Am I writing for myself anymore? Was I ever writing for myself?

Just what am I doing. I’m not sure if I’m even telling the truth. As I read back on what I’ve said and wrote, what I’ve told people, I feel like a fool. I don’t just change my mind, I lie. Without even realizing, I deceive, trick, and cheat people. I’m not even sure if 10% of what comes out of my mouth is plain, simple, honest. I feel as though 90% of what I say is complete bullshit, a lie, or provocation. I don’t know if what I’m feeling now is what I should be feeling or what I’m actually feeling. Everything seems out of place. I sealed everything when I wrote ‘Cowardice’, speaking in a tainted view. What foolishness.

At a certain point, this blog turned from observation of the world about me, personal opinions and more far-reaching topics, to something more introspective, and eventually it devolved into foolish whining. As if writing about it would do anything. As if writing about anything will have a benefit. Not in a closed off, hidden blog. Not one that very few people can see. Just what was I thinking. I suppose I’m writing today to dispel some of the darkness that’s creeping up on me.

I start college next month. Classes start in 20 days, I’m gone in another ten days. Where did the time go? Where did my summer go? I wasted it away, and I was happy at the time, sometimes bored, but content. Looking back on it now, I feel this sense of regret. I know I wouldn’t have done anything anyway, even if I was warned, but that’s just part of learning, part of growing up. I think what I regret more is sitting on my bed a few weeks ago, calling every single person in my contacts list… and knowing not one of them would pick up. I made calls for as long as I could, I got through the entire contact list, but everyone either didn’t pick up or was busy doing something else with someone else. I asked for people to call back, one after another, an entire contact list full of people… and no one returned my calls. I send out emails and I get no replies.

Was I that meaningless? Did I never really matter? What was the point of my attitude if no one wanted to deal with me, to even call back. Of course, that was never the point. I always tried not to be the nice guy, but the guy who was reliable, who was around for you if you asked for him. Very few people asked. And of course, I never reached out for help. I always felt like if there was a problem, I could fix it myself. I would simply continue the way I had done things, never asking for help, trying to offer it, and isolating myself. When I tried again a few weeks later, it was harder. Even calling a single person suddenly turned into a monumental task for me. I was scared. Scared to be alone. Scared that being who I was had pushed away everyone I thought I could call friends. I couldn’t go through and call everyone on the next pass, afraid of being overbearing, afraid of being a bore, afraid that my attitude, my remarks, my caustic aura would eat right through whatever loose strands of friendship held us together.

Holding conversation was impossible. Summer orientation at college taught me that. I didn’t last longer than a few minutes with anyone, I kept overly silent or pretended to be that brash, loud boy that I was in high school. That sort of facade is and was tiring. I was reminded of just how incapable a person I am, how unsociable. When I got home, it was impossible for me to try and call anyone. I had sent out e-vites in the weeks before for a graduation party that my parents were throwing for me, whether I liked it or not. That was bad enough, as a mass message was not something I usually did, and now I was certain my detached attitude was going to frustrate people. When my parents decided to change the date, I had little choice but to accept, and once more I had to send out a mass message, informing everyone of a date change. That, in and of itself, was a horror. There was a protocol to this, one I had no idea about. I was  most certainly messing things up, rending  all the relationships I had tried to build over the years in two. So when time rolled around and I reached for my cellphone, I found that my fingers trembled every time I got close to the call button, my heart sinking deeper and deeper with each new answering machine. They don’t want to talk with me. They’re having fun without me. I’m not a necessary, or even wanted existence. I’m just in the way.

Now that date is coming around. My graduation party. My send-off party. What if no one shows up? What if my friends bail… I called around twenty to forty of them, can I really handle it if only two of them show up? Can I handle the jeers from my parent’s friends, the pitying looks, the insufferable silence? I’m hoping beyond hope that those people who haven’t replied show up. I don’t mind. I won’t mind. If I invited you and you show up without saying anything before, I won’t be mad. I won’t be disappointed. I swear I’ll be happy, so please, not just for my sake, for my parents too, please let enough people show up. Let things go by without a hitch. I don’t want to screw everything up again. I don’t want to lose my friends. I don’t want to look around and realize I’m alone.

Every time I pick up my phone, I am reminded. It’s become impossible to call. It’s become too hard to try. I don’t have that strength. I don’t have that power. And I know, this is a problem I could fix by myself. If I lie to myself even more, if I put myself out even more, if I pretend to be outspoken, questioning, a charismatic spokesman, I can keep going, I can survive. But will the scared, sentimental introvert ever get a chance to exist? Will I have to give up who I am in private in order to exist in the world? In society? Is that the price? Burying who I am, pretending to be someone else, living someone else’s dream, someone else’s life. I can’t even dream. I can’t even cry.

And so I welcome back the smiling fool, who smiles even as he’s cut to pieces. Hello World. It’s me again, I don’t know what I’m saying, but I hope you understand.

Who am I?

Who am I going to pretend to be this time?


You know I have been searching for this one song/video on youtube for ages and I can not find the original version. Then I found it on my computer and now WordPress won’t let me upload it. Why do you do this to me, WordPress? Clearly, the solution is to go use the first video uploading site that comes up via google search. TinyPic, apparently.

Now then, onto the subject of cowardice. This is probably one of my more depressing entries, so if you’re not into that, are gonna freak out, or just don’t want to see this, skip it. I warned you.

Oh look Tiny Pic failed. Fantastic. Anyway, it is a good song I was going to link, but all the versions I found were either of sucky quality or did not have subs to them. Alas, woe is you.

So, onwards. Cowardice. I’m a coward. There, I said it. I’m pretty sure I am one, at the very least. I always can’t say what I actually think and my mouth says things I don’t mean. I’d like to say ‘I mean what I say’, but that’s not true. The truth is, ‘I occasionally mean what I say, but also compulsively lie’. But that’s a different subject. Much like how my writing style changed drastically in the month I haven’t updated. Strange. At any rate, back we go.

Cowardice. I can’t say what I think. I can’t say what I feel. I’m sitting here at 1:40 AM, hoping that someone will read this and hoping that no one will. I don’t know which is worse. I don’t know how to phrase what I feel, I don’t know how to say what I think. More and more, it’s easier to just let the ‘me’ that is me fade and simply slip right into the stream of people moving about their business. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about it, wouldn’t have to worry about my differences, wouldn’t have to worry about being unique. But that is cowardice.

I was in class today… My 3rd class of the day is a little rowdy. In that class, there are three people in the audition only top-level of choir. Coincidentally,we all sit in a row, one on either side of me. It’s an AP class and we already took our test, so now we’re basically messing around for the last month. So it came to pass that we somehow got to the suggestion that the people on my right and left [the two other kids in choir] should sing, and that the class wanted to hear them sing. Only those two. I was invisible somehow, no one looked at me, no one mentioned my name, no one bothered with me. Sitting between two people like that makes you feel like you’re inferior. Like you’re the worst. I know I’m not great, but to not be recognized, to not be noticed, to be so completely ignored is a horrible feeling. I’ve felt it before, but today I felt it clearly. Was I so low as to not even be in the same league as those two? Perhaps that is the case. I said nothing, I only smiled and listened to the people around me egg on my two seat neighbors to sing. I do not mind so much, as they are both quite skilled, but I mind a little bit, I must admit. I am a little jealous. Just a touch. Perhaps if the reason was not, “But you’re in the top level of choir, right? So you can and should sing for us!”, I would not be so troubled right now. Am I not worthy? Am I not noticeable? Or have I built up a reputation that you would rather not deal with me at all? Perhaps that’s it. Perhaps I’ve gotten to a point where no one wants to ask me for anything, to talk to me about anything. I said nothing and smiled. To explain my distress to anyone isn’t something I can do. Cowardice. I’m too afraid to say what I think, I’m too afraid to even make a joke about it. What if they say, “Well yeah, but those two are way better than you are.” or “But those two are amazing singers” or in fact, much of anything. At this point, nothing I can think of as a response can’t be turned into an implied insult directed at me. It seems like I’m just no good. Cowardice.

It’s the same elsewhere too. Physics. I want to be good at it. I want to understand it. But now, I’m not sure if I’m asking questions to try and understand the material more, or out of fear that if I stop asking questions, people will forget about me. Is that all I am? That one person who asks questions in class and tries to answer all the prompts? Cowardice. I’ve felt like keeping my hand down and not asking questions, but that too is Cowardice. There’s no escaping for me. I guess that’s my problem. In my life, I just wanted to exist and go with what I believed in, but now that I’m older, it’s getting harder and harder to keep at it. Society is pushing me down, or perhaps I’m just letting it, because I’m too afraid to fight back. Cowardice. Perhaps I feel like enough is enough already. That I’m done with that “one more time”, I’m done with the “No problem”, I’m done with all of that… Or perhaps that’s just more cowardice.

The rest of this story should generally be kept secret, but I guess I feel a need to write it out. I have edited it out and password protected it in a new post, which can be found here.

And so the Coward’s story ends, at least for now.

Right, right, I almost forgot. I think I forgot while I was writing this, and perhaps you might have as well, but that Coward is me. All I can show for myself is a little bit more Cowardice.

Group Responsibility

Oh look it is freaking part two.

This is also known as ‘When they realize that this is their final grade and start caring’.


It’s true. It’s unfortunate, but it’s true.

Also known as 'You know it to be true'

Don’t even try to deny it. This is how it works, unfortunately.


Ain’t that just fantastic. It’s right about now that I wish WordPress had a spoiler thing. That image is too freaking big for my tastes and I can not stand it all up in my screen space.










So look I hit enter a bunch of times. Problem solved. Now then, onto group projects.

So, I assume that most people have been put into a group decided by the teacher, either with people they didn’t like or didn’t choose. Most everyone has. Oh well suck it up.

Seriously? I’ve been in groups that I haven’t liked before. In fact, I have been in groups I’m not fond of very, very often. Sometimes they don’t like me either. Perhaps it’s that elitist attitude and snobbish demeanor I give off that makes me not get along well with other people. Whatever the case may be, my stance on group projects is fairly simple. Do your share of the work. I do not care if you have a problem with me. Your social issues with me have little to no relevance to our project and our grades. And by the way, it is not only my grade on the line, it is also yours. So do the work.

I’m sure you’ve been in that situation. You’re in a group and people keep flaking out on you, not doing their share of the work, so you and maybe one other person pick up all the slack because neither of you want a zero on the assignment, right? So you do the work, and the teacher gives everyone in the group that darn B+. Oh man B+!That’s freaking horrible! Yeah no it’s not. Not when 2 people did the work of 5. So I guess I should just start listing off things at this point that annoy me about group projects. The first should be obvious. Not picking up your share of the work.


Now don’t get me wrong. If you don’t care about the class, fine. You don’t really care if you get an A or a B or a C, alright. That’s your prerogative, not really my concern. If that’s what you want to do, then that’s your choice. Maybe you’ve got a home situation going on. Maybe you’ve got something else. Maybe you just don’t care and don’t think it’s worth it. Your call. Fine. Don’t do the work for your assignments. See, when you do that, it doesn’t affect me. You get a zero, I get a grade that is not a zero, we’re both still separate. When you put us in a group, however, there’s one thing you have to understand. You now have a responsibility to the rest of the group to do what you say you are going to do. You can not flake out. So that’s further subdivided into two parts. Not doing your work and not doing what you say you will do.

When you have a group project, you are part of a group. It is your responsibility to not take some of the workload. You do not get a free ride because you ‘got lucky’ and ‘got into a group with that nerd’. I have heard both of those phrases said in several occasions, both with people in groups with me and not. That is in no way fair. Do your share of the work. And do not half-ass it or basically make it useless. If you are in the same grade and taking the same class as me, what I expect is a basic level of competence in that class. Do your work and do it properly. So when it comes time to divide tasks, you have to take something. I don’t mind if you say “I’ll take whatever’s left.” I’ve done that on occasion, as it’s simple. It lets everyone get what they want, and if you have no preference, you still end up doing some part of the workload and fill up the empty space. Perfect. A good example of this not happening follows. It doesn’t even have to be in class. Here we go:

So I’ve gone backpacking before with a group. If you’ve ever gone backpacking with a group before, you know it’s a lot easier than going alone sometimes because the ‘crew’ divides the gear between each member so that all the necessary equipment gets transported, but at the same time, no one is overburdened. I was along with about 10 other individuals. So when it came time to pack up camp and head out, we had to distribute the gear for the day’s hike to the next spot. We had a bunch of crew gear stacked up, and it should have been split up. Everyone should have taken some part of it, even a smaller portion. Unfortunately, that was not the case. What we got were excuses. My backpack is too heavy, my backpack is too full, I carried it yesterday, etc.  Sound familiar? If not, let me show you. Watch: My backpack course load is too heavy, my backpack schedule is too full, and so on.

So who takes the gear or the work? That one guy or girl who knows it needs to get done. You don’t go anywhere unless someone picks up the extra load, whether it is actual gear or work for a project, and takes care of it. Now before you object and say “Yeah, but some people just take it before anyone else has a chance to respond or takes the whole project on their shoulders and don’t give us a chance to comment”, I know. I understand. There are some very domineering personalities in the world, but if you have a part you want to do, then take it. Do not complain because you were too chicken to raise your voice and say, “I can take care of it.” What, are you scared of responsibility? Commitment? See, that’s the exact same thing that those guys who don’t take anything at all probably feel, except they don’t try to cover it up by blaming others. At least the excuses they make are about themselves. Well, anyway. I do get there are some personalities like that and it’s hard to say anything. Fine. But not everyone is like that. Sometimes no one takes it and someone has to. So one or two members of the team carry the entire burden and support the entire group for that leg of the journey, or for the project. I don’t think that’s fair, but it happens. It bugs me, but it happens. Fine.

The second thing that really bugs me about this thing is the idea of doing what you say you will do. It’s bad to not take anything, but it’s just as bad to say that you’ll “take care of it”, and then you fall through. You don’t take care of your part, and at that point, everyone is scrambling to make up for your portion. This is a bit more of an overarching concept, the idea of keeping to your word. I think I may have mentioned this previously, but I’m a big believer in not making promises I can’t keep. It’s for the exact reason that I do not want to be the guy who falls through, who lets other people down. And that’s really the bottom line to this whole group thing.


When you are in a group, other people rely on you and are trusting you to be in the group with them. They are believing in you to take care of the assignment with them, to do your fair share, and to cooperate such that everyone does an appropriate amount of work and gets a great result. When you don’t do your fair share, but expect a return, you are breaking that trust. When you commit to completing one portion, but fall through, you are breaking that trust. When you skip meetings, when you fall through, when you act irresponsibly, you are breaking that trust.

And for your group members, they can’t do anything but sigh and try to clean up your mess. They try to get the result, because they want the result. They need the result. In fact, you might need the result too, but no one wants to call you out on it. No one wants to be rude. No one wants to scream, yell, shout, kick and scream, to throw a fit and raise a ruckus when they know wrong has been done. No one wants to, because they should be understanding. They should be accommodating. They shouldn’t throw a fit over every little thing. They should be reasonable and not be upset that their group member let them down.

That sounds perfectly reasonable. Except it doesn’t. So why do we let it? I guess that’s what society expects of us, but I know I can’t be the only one who feels their blood boil a little when a group member fails. I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve done it to other people just to get back at them. It’s a little scary. I actually said, “I usually do all the work, so since I’m not going to be here on Thursday, I’m going to make you guys do all the work.” I did the work during that work day, but I didn’t really do much of anything else. And I’m realizing now that this is exactly the kind of thing that sparks drama and nonsense, whether it is at work, at school, or even recreational. It doesn’t make any sense.


So now you know. That’s what usually bugs me about group projects. But we have yet to get onto part two, the part known as ‘but these things really, really bug me’. I’ll talk about two things in particular now. First, complaining about a result you put no work into. Second, trying to jump into a project at the end.

So the first thing that gets under my skin. Complaining about a project you didn’t take part in. Remember those things I was complaining about above? Not doing any work on the project or saying you’d do work and then not doing it? That bothers me, but what really gets at me is when those people, those same freaking people have the audacity to complain about the grade we received. I don’t care -who- you’re complaining to, whether it’s the teacher or it’s to your group members, but if you didn’t do anything in the project and made everyone else pick up the slack for you, you have zero right to say -anything- about the grade we received. As far as I’m concerned, it’s not even your project. It just happens to have your name on it, because we’re nice or because the teacher has a list of groups, but that doesn’t mean it’s your group. This reminds me of one of those children’s book stories. I think it was Clucky Duck or Hen or something bakes a cake? Or maybe it was bread. Anyway, this anthropomorphized hen is making some tasty bread and every time she asks for help with one of the steps [getting the grain, grinding it, making the flour, making the mix, baking it, etc], the other animals say they are too busy for some reason or another. Yet, when the confection, whatever it was, is done, they all come crawling out of the woodwork looking for a slice of the pie, both figuratively and literally. That’s what this reminds me of. You can’t claim ownership on something once it is finished. That’s ridiculous. Either you claim ownership of it from the point you get involved [usually the start] right to the end of your capability, or you sit back and don’t claim ownership. Heck, even partial help is fine. If you do something while the product is being created and don’t come crawling out at the end when everything is finished just so you can claim credit for something you had -no hand- in, then fine. I’ll be slightly annoyed, but I’ll be more understanding and less likely to want to box you into a corner, smack you upside the head, and scratch your name off the project.

The second thing that gets under my skin. About three or four sentences ago, I said something about having some hand in the project. I lied about being less annoyed. I’ll probably be even more annoyed or just as annoyed under certain conditions. See, here’s the magic of projects. Sometimes, you have this project that comes at the end of the year. Or maybe it’s in the middle of the term. Anyway, it’s important because it’s worth a large part of your grade [or it’s important for your promotion, or whatever the case may be, but my major experience in this is with school work]. So you get on it and give it attention and care, knowing that this is going to be your final for the class, worth a large percentage of your grade, or it’s your ‘semester project’, which is basically the same deal, a large percentage of your grade. So you and your group members get working [At this point, I’m going to take a moment to thank the individual who was with me for my semester project in Government, 5th Period 2nd Semester Senior Year. You are the best for falling in zero pitfalls and being an amazing partner, one of the best I have ever had. We ended up with a perfect score, and that doesn’t happen unless you, my partner, care and put in effort. I was and am honored to have been your project partner for our semester project in that class] – Yeah, nevermind to that last sentence. See, I felt so strongly about this one partner who did right by me, and I truly hope that she feels I did right by her, that it sticks in my mind above all other projects and project partners. It may have been the fact that it was a more recent project, or perhaps because it was a pair assignment and I don’t remember the situations where I had a good partner, but it was 2 of us in a group of 5, but she did right by me. I won’t ever forget that. She is the standard to which I hold myself now, because I was stunned and impressed. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not a super-genius. She’s not daft either, but she’s intelligent and clever, like I know most people can be but for some reason refuse to be. The best part, however, is that she really does try. I can tell she tries. This is probably a weird place to say it, but wow. It was beautiful.

Anyway, back to the old topic and moving away from that aside about my awesome project partner that restored my faith in project partners, imagine you and your group members get working. That is to say, you and one other group member, plus a third group member who does an average amount of work [while you and the first group member are picking up the slack of the remaining two group members]. It’s been a month since the project started and the two group members who weren’t working well continue to not work well. It’s either one of them or the other, or if you’re really unlucky, both at the same time. So it’s been a month, there’s two weeks left in the project, and you get an email that basically says, “Hey dude I need to take part in the final so I can get my grade and raise my GPA/be eligible for sports/be able to attend State College/etc”. You hope you’re being bullshitted, but no. 2 weeks before the project is completed [or before the final is there or whatever the case may be], your classmate “sees the light” and decides that he must get in on the action and get a good grade. But for the month before, who cares. It’s just now that he’s feeling threatened, he’s getting involved. Selfish interest, 100%. But this selfish interest isn’t one that started from the beginning. I’ll admit I’m fueled by selfish interest for most of my projects. I want a good grade, so I put in the effort for a reward that goes to me. Selfish enough, fine. The difference is that this group member’s selfish interest spawns later on in the ball game, and you have no idea if he has any idea what’s going on. He wants to take part, but at this point, now that you’ve started to figure things out, he jumps in and makes waves. Of course, there’s no saying no to this kid. I don’t think most people can go, “I don’t care if you fail this class and can’t go to San Jose State. You didn’t take part in the project from the start, your problem.” It’s a bit of a dirty trick if used intentionally, but it works. That really boils my blood sometimes.

But oh well, what can you do.


Bottom line of all of this is fairly simple. When you’re in a group, be part of the group please. You’ve got more to worry about than just yourself and your actions affect more than just yourself. Remember that image I posted aaaaaaaaaaaaalll the way at the top? Strive not to be the reason your group members believe the bottom pie chart is true.

Please and thank you~

Triple Feature, Part I

Congrats, today I am about ready to chew someone’s head off, so you get the fantastic, amazing, triple feature!

That is to say all the usual stuff that gets put into one update spread across three because I feel like it. And so I shall start us off with the topic of depression.

Go click that link. The image is very, very fitting.

This too. Don’t forget to turn on the annotations.

So as it turns out, I kind of get depressed and disheartened kind of easily. It’s a little stupid when I think about it, because all the things I worry about or get disheartened about are all in the past, trivial, or simply not worth getting worried about, but I get into those weird moods just the same. And then that devolves into what is known as the wondrous hate-spiral, where I call myself names. I’m very smart about the way I self-depreciate. I always say things that are true, but take a negative spin on it, so I can’t deny it or tell myself I’m overreacting. I seemingly filter out all the good and focus just on the bad, and when I try to counterbalance and go ‘no, look at these things that have happened’, I can’t think of anything. I think I’ve gotten to the point where I can’t remember good things about myself anymore. Well, I can, but eh.

Anyway, onwards! The triple feature may not exist, depending on when I need to get off my computer. But oh well. Onwards!

Why, Why, Why?

Why Not?

This is probably the first real post on my blog. Come to think of it, I haven’t published anything since January 9th. Woah. That first post back on the 5th was my introduction and filler space, my tiny little intro and that thing on the 9th was something like a rant or a vent that went up because I felt it had to be said somewhere. Does that make that the first real post? Does that make this? I’m not sure if this is going to be a rant or something about life as a whole, but here goes. I hope you’ll bear with me.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the “why” behind everything. My mom always told me that when I was younger, I’d always want to know why something was. I guess I still do, but it’s not always easy. Think about it. Don’t you hate those people who are always asking why? “Why doesn’t he figure it out himself? It’s not important! I wish she’d stop asking so many questions, it’s so annoying!” And that’s just in class. Now how about when those whys come to you? “How come she’s questioning me? Does he not like me? Does she think I said something wrong? Stop bothering me!” And suddenly we’re on the defensive. We feel questioned, interrogated, when people ask us a lot of why questions. [I speak only for myself and what I’ve seen, talked about, and experienced, so please excuse any use of ‘we’ or ‘us’, as I sometimes end up speaking about what I see in people as a whole.] We feel like we’re being asked to justify our actions and choices. Not only that, but we’re being asked to defend them. “Why did you do this” turns into “why didn’t you do that instead?” turns into “your decision doesn’t make sense to me” turns into “your decision is wrong”. Sometimes, that’s how it is, I will admit. Sometimes, however, it’s innocent. Or someone just wants to know what your thinking process was behind your decision. Sometimes, it doesn’t even take a question. The way people look at you, the way their stares run right into you, the crossed arms, the closed posture, the narrowed eyes… and suddenly, you’re trying to justify yourself, to defend yourself.

I guess that’s why I stopped asking. I got sick of people automatically assuming I was attacking them or questioning their judgement. I just wanted to know why. I won’t say I didn’t judge. Everyone judges. Here’s the difference. I wanted to know why and judge the thought process or reasoning. Whoever I asked thought I wanted to know why and judge them. It’s not the same. People are irrational creatures. Everything has a reason behind it, but I know that those reasons don’t always make sense. They don’t have to. …Part of that is a lie. It’s hard to distinguish between the thoughts and reasons of a person and the person themselves. Here’s what I can say for sure though. When I was younger, I asked why because I wanted to know how. “How is it that that math proof came about?”, “Why did they decide to make some document xyz?”, and so on. Occasionally, I got an answer. Most of the time, I got not-answers or ‘stop asking so many questions’. You’re not a smart-alec or nerd for wanting to the know the reasoning behind something. Here’s an analogy. Most people get along just fine using their car without knowing how most of it works. Not many people know how many volts are required to make the spark plug send a jolt of electricity across and spark the fire. That stuff isn’t important or doesn’t matter to most people. And it’s not a bad thing not to know. But when your car breaks down… don’t you want to know what’s going on with it? Or do you not care? I wanted to know. I always thought the more I knew, the more I understood, the better. I wasn’t mad that other people didn’t want to know. That was their choice, and to each their own. Go ahead, you can call a mechanic or someone to fix it for you. I just figured the more you knew, the more you could talk about, the more people you could interact with…

Something like that. At any rate, my ‘why’s were often met with hostility. Ever hear this? I know better than you, so listen! I’m doing what’s best for you. I love you, son, so just listen to what I’m saying and don’t ask questions. I know what’s best for you, daughter, so just do what I say. Right? For a while, I didn’t understand that I shouldn’t ask ‘why’ in those situations. I wanted to know why. In my head, it made sense. “If I know why, doesn’t that mean that if something happens, I can respond to it better? That I can deal with it better? And I don’t want to do things for no reason, I don’t like it.” I guess that came in part from my parents always telling me to be my own person, to not listen to everyone else and do what I thought was right, but then turning around and trying to get me to just listen. A little hypocritical, right? So I asked why. As any of you who’ve ever asked why to someone who doesn’t feel like answering knows, that wasn’t exactly the smartest of plans.

So my whys began decreasing. What I began to say most often wasn’t ‘why’, but ‘okay’. I understand. Okay. I got it. I’ll do what you say. As you wish. Whatever you say. That last one sounds a little flippant, doesn’t it? That’s probably because it is. I guess part of me still wanted to ask why, but I became afraid. Afraid that if I started asking why, I wouldn’t like what happened. So my ‘whys’ started disappearing. Slowly, slowly, until I only asked why as often as was acceptable and ended up saying ‘okay’ a lot more often. I guess I never really could get rid of that drive, as I’d stop asking ‘why’ and started asking “what if?” Not much better for everyone else, but there was less chance for hostility and more to figure out how things worked. I started asking after school or looking things up online. And my “what if’s” were really “why can’t we do this?”… Everything started twisting around, I think. It became a game of politics and bureaucracy at a place where I was trying to learn about math and science. I think that’s why I can’t stand being taught things. I just can’t keep interested. Piano, Guitar, drawing, writing, art, singing, acting… It all became ‘do this’. I think I found that strange.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that the ‘why’ shouldn’t disappear. I wish mine hadn’t. I feel like more often than not, I’m not saying what I think, I’m merely catering to the people around me and what they think I should be saying. “Class Spokesman” or what have you. I guess that’s okay… but why? Right?


The second kind of why is a bit weirder. Why did I make this blog?

Well, why not?

That’s really my answer to it. I wanted one and I didn’t see any harm to having one. Some place to dump my thoughts, some place to let things just exist. I’m hoping that this doesn’t become a problem. I know that it’s possible for some people to be offended or not understand what I’m saying. Maybe they’ll get defensive. I don’t really know, but for right now, I think it’s fine to just let it be said. [To my one reader, thanks for not spreading this around].

“Sing like you think no one’s listening” 

Existentialism On Prom Night by Straylight Run

I want to write, so I’m going to write. I’ll always be writing. I’ll always be drawing. I’ll always be singing. And I hope that when someone asks me “why”, they’ll understand when I say “why not?” I guess I’m a little tired of writing right now, so this is a bit of a shorter answer, but there you go.

Part of this, I realized, was ‘why do I have these categories’. I don’t really know. I feel like whatever I post might as well go in all three categories, considering the type of things I’m putting on this blog. I think it might have been a mistake on my part to try and create categories beforehand and try and fit my writing to those or even presume that my writing would fall neatly like I wanted it to. I made a ‘big picture’ thing ‘SnowFlakes’ and something more about introspection and something more about me specifically ‘Eye of the Storm’, but those are overlapping in my posts. There’s a lot of ‘whys’ running through my head right now. Why did I make things like this, why am I explaining this, why am I up late writing… Why? Eh. Why not. And so back we go, forwards to the rest of this entry: I think I may have to revise all my categories later and things will just fall into place. And if not, you get a giant cluster of things. Is that really so bad? We’ll have to see.

Also, why is the font different on the display as compared to the actual writing page. That makes me unhappy. It should be noted that I am pretty hypocritical, so keep that in mind.


There was a third kind of why I was thinking about as I was writing this post. Earlier today, I was watching this youtube video about a Thai life insurance ad called “Silence of Life” [you can find it here]. When I showed it to my mom, she was asking me “Why do you watch this sort of stuff? Why do people even post these kinds of videos?” I was a little stumped. There was a lot of answers to that one and I guess my mind immediately jumped to something I had posted somewhere else that day about comparisons. It used the logical proof of the Raven [I forget if it was Hermes’ or Archimedes’ or what, but according to this, it’s Hempel’s Ravens]. The version I remember is there is some uncatchable raven. It flies so fast it simply can not be caught. Ravens are black. Thus, if you gather up everything that is not black [everything that is white, in the example],  and put it in one area, whatever is left must have the raven in it. What I said was [“For example, you can only say something is ‘blue’ by either comparing it to other ‘blue’ things you’ve seen, or by comparing it to all the things you know that are not ‘blue’.” This was making an analogy to my understanding of the way drunk people post replies and my conversation with another person on how he acts when he’s drunk and conclusions he and I had both drawn.] That’s basically inclusive of the idea of Hempel’s ravens. The idea behind that is a paradox, but my reasoning invoked only the first two statements. “1. All Ravens are black.”  This implies, “2. Everything that is not black is not a raven.” [Source: Wikipedia, some copied word for word]

When talking to my mom, I somehow drew this comparison to the idea of happiness and sadness. In a way, I was citing the age old idea that there can not be light without darkness. You can not know happiness without knowing sadness, and so on. To my mom, I replied this [and I paraphrase]: I think that happiness can only be understood by comparing it to one of two things. You can either compare it to happiness you already know about [oh look, shades of blue], or you can compare it to everything else you know is not what you’re talking about [well, it’s not red, green, purple, yellow, violet, fuchsia, or any of the other colors I know, and that only leaves this ‘blue’ thing I’ve never seen, so I guess it has to be blue?]. I told my mom it was a reminder. To remind myself that not everything is fine in the world. That there is sadness just as there is happiness. That there are two sides to everything. Sometimes even more. There are grays and blacks and whites…

I didn’t know the answer to that question then. I don’t think I know now. I just know it’s important. In the end, the thing I told my mom most resolutely was this: “I think it’s important.” What I really meant was this:

“Why not?”

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