Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Introducing: The What-The-Fuck-Just-Came-Over-Me syndrome (
Foolus Infatuous), a very common malady among individuals of all ages.
Disease exists primarily as an infectious dementia among the confidence-challenged, and has an extremely high transmission rate. Exposure to affected individuals is highly toxic and should be avoided where necessary.
Early symptoms include involuntary spasms of crotch muscles, specifically the area surrounding the reproductive organs, as well as uncontrollable thoughts of highly provocative and/or erotic situations. Overall increased neural activity will also usually lead to stimulated sweat glands and partial loss of control over the laryngeal muscles, more commonly known as the 'voice box'.
If left untreated, the disease will progress into the second stage, where the most pronounced ailment is the excess production of dopamine in the brain, producing what is commonly referred to in layman's terms as the 'FUBAR Fantasies'. The subject will increasingly lose the ability to distinguish between reality and fiction - sleep deprivation, loss of appetite and the utter inability to concentrate on anything other than the afore-mentioned provocative scenarios are some of the more common manifestations.
Again, if treatment is still not administered, the disease will progress to the final and terminal stage, where the chances of complete recovery are drastically reduced. Besides the continual worsening of any present symptoms, the subject's attempts at relieving his/her symptoms will most often include acting out the 'FUBAR Fantasies' upon the targeted individual, whereupon the most common effects will include severe mental trauma, both socially and psychologically. In extreme cases, physical injury, most commonly to the facial area, will result as well.
The majority of afflicted individuals, however, will instead attempt to suppress such actions, which will instead result in greater long-term damage to the aft sections of the visual cortex, specifically the areas concerning human ideals of 'hope' and 'fulfilment'.
As this disease is extremely debilitating if treatment is not begun in the initial stages, prompt detection is of paramount importance. As symptomatic treatment is largely inefficient, existing methodology points to a more fundamental altering of the subject's psyche: treatment consists primarily of distracting the subject with suitable pursuits. The most popular options include the use of electronic visual stimuli, more commonly known as 'games' or 'television', as well as extensive derogatory remarks aimed at dissuading further pursuit of the subject's obsession, aka 'sour grapes bitching', or more commonly abbreviated as 'bitching'.
If all else fails, the final solution lies in the judicious use of alcoholic drinks to induce a state a sensory deprivation, which will inevitably be followed by a period of involuntary oral ejection, or in slang terms, 'worshipping the porcelain god'. Completion of treatment will include the visualisation of the subject's object of fantasy with every round of discharge from the mouth, until the subject is cured of all obsession. If necessary, repeat treatment the following day to ensure full and complete recovery, so as to forestall any possible relapse.
Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
11:23 PM
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Sunday, May 14, 2006
Here goes:
I AM: an amaglam of many things.
I WANT: for everyone to realise their one most powerful dream.
I FEAR: rejection and loneliness.
I HEAR: a voice telling me everything's going to be OK.
I WISH: I could say say the things I want to say, when I mean to.
I HATE: being hypocritical and superficial.
I MISS: being innocent.
I WONDER: what might have been if things had been different
I REGRET: rushing in where angels fear to tread.
I AM NOT: ever letting my personal demons take control again.
I DANCE: with two left feet.
I SING: well enough to serenade someone who doesn't need serenading.
I CRY: very rarely.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: sure that what I do is for the best.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: flimsily, not an arts and craft person.
I WRITE: to express myself. Words are my craft.
I CONFUSE: those who don't really know me.
I NEED: to learn to let go.
I SHOULD: trust in God more.
I START: by being myself.
I FINISH: by weathering whatever life can throw at me, and becoming stronger in the process.
I LOVE: being single right now.
I REMEMBER: I once ran along East Coast at 4am in the morning screaming like a madman because of a forfeit.
Whoever wants to do this, please be my guest =)
Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
5:25 PM
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Monday, May 08, 2006
Wahahaha. Talk about a silent but deadly killer.
Together with Hous Bin Pharteen and I-Bin Pharteen, we shall rule the world with our atomic flatulence!
Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
12:48 AM
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Friday, May 05, 2006
Enter password.
*******
Password accepted - please wait...
Access encrypted data - opening...
1 transmission detected. Run? Yes/No
Uplinking to live feed...
[Start Transmission]
My name is unimportant. I am whoever anyone might think I am. I am but the sum equation of the perceptions of everyone around me, and yet at the same time I am more - I represent the memories of my life, the memories of my twenty-three years.
Looking back over my life, I wonder if I could have, should have done certain things differently. Was I so caught up in the advancement of that which I held to be important that the people and events that have come into my life were inconsequential by comparison?
Perhaps I might have made some small adjustment, some small change here and there that would in no way have strayed my path forward, but have dramatically improved the lives of those dear to me. Some minute compromise that would have, just perhaps, turned things out differently. But then the fallacy of it becomes apparent to me, as is the entire futility of fighting against our own pre-determined paths.
Was there any way to keep her close?
The logic, the reason behind it. She and I could not stay together as friends, never mind as more than that. My very presence was hurting her, despite what she or I might pretend otherwise, and perhaps it was my own fault more than hers, but everytime she saw me she could not help but be reminded of past hurts.
I had to be brutal to be kind. I had to tell her to go away, and bear her hate forever, because I know that I would rather see her happy again, sometime in the future, than never. So she could forget about me totally and move on with her life, just as I am doing with mine.
I wasn't proud of this decision. To this day, it pains me deeply, but it was something I had to do.
Still, I wonder if there was any other way to do it, any other way that would have involved less hurt to both parties. Might I have told her more gently, more frankly, asked for her co-operation? The idea seemed attractive, until I realised that like the proverbial story about a wound that heals best when it is treated with salt, an intense pain must be borne, for a time, to ensure the path to a better future - both our futures - remains unhindered.
My one regret was that when I had that one chance in the palm of my hand, I failed to cherish it. Speculation what might have come to pass had things been... different is useless, and yet I find myself wandering along those forbidden paths of thought.
Perhaps in a great many years to come, we'll meet again. But of course, I'll have moved far away by then. Events are out of my hands right now, and as the future rolls towards us, I pray that I will know what next to do.
Letting go is the hardest thing to do.
Perhaps someday I'll truly understand the meaning of that.
[End Transmission]
Format disk - execute.
Delete all files/folders? Yes/No
Formatting... complete.
Erase logfile - execute.
Erase cache - execute.
Shutdown system... done.
Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
10:28 AM
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Monday, May 01, 2006

Peace & Pooches.
Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
12:44 PM
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