To all the Adams of the world, thank you for standing by me when I leaned on you.
This bitchslap goes out to this unrelated party that thinks he's the shit and can accomplish everything. Please, be quiet. You have no idea what you're saying and you have no sense of scope and reality. I wish someone would just put you in your place. Not because you're hoping, but because you're spouting shit. No shit, ever.
So my new mate goes, so you're not bi right? I'm like, no, sorry. He's all like I had this thing where I thought I was bi the whole time... Now I don't even think about it, I'm preoccupied with work and such. I'm like right right okay I see...
Uhh this dreamcatcher is fading... Something about a group of guys, at least me, Rishi, and Joker, body boarding or something down snow into an unsnow area, muddy and sunny and the like... Something about two big secret agents in black chasing us and us running away... I dived into the sand and started flapping about, trying to sink into the sand and hide. Then I sprint for this building at the edge of the desert and hide... Hide, run around, past perusing the TV and the fonts with the remote control, controling only oh so many channels (e.g. VH1 and MTV and BET all showing the same thing)... Running in the bathroom, cowering, something... Then I walk out and find Rishi... He's all like they got captured. E-mailed me. Coded me. Trying to decipher the code. Trying to escape cutting the bonds with peppers... So I tell him about the building, how cool it is because it has Official stuff in it... Diesel.
Then I mentally switch to one of our secret spy brothers, the one with the peppers... I imagine him bound up, and using parts of dried peppers from mess hall to break his rope...
Yeah, foreseeing the future with dreams... Right...
My time, your time... I've already forgetten that what gave me great joy obviously came at a price... Not a terrible price, but certainly a price in which my present self will never understand the fruits of my labor. We have to trust. That's what it's about. To be completely blind and just go...
That and I'm back where I like to be, sans that special frosting ness that made my life truly all that much better. A new outlet to obsess and be engulfed in the infinite joy that it brought me... I can only hope that it can happen again. But hoping leads to disappointment. But pessimism isn't the way either. And talking is a sign of weakness. And not talking is a sign of juveniality. I'm at a loss. I want everything back. I want everything my way. I want to do a good job. I really do. But worlds are warping, commitments are breaking and everything's beginning to collapse. I need it out of my system. I need it in my system... It's a drug. It's a vice. You want a sacrifice? I could sacrifice you.
I want the frosting. I want to enjoy. Tell me to have fun. I want to do it. I want to do it all... Because it hurts.... Uhh, hurts so good? I don't know anymore. Who knows. Who knows anything anymore...?
What makes us close is that we cry together. I feel your pain, you feel mine. We chill, console, and laugh at the world together. That's why we're close.
What makes us close, I don't know. I really don't feel all that close. It's more of an official motion. But that motion, in all that it represents, should mean that we, too, can cry and laugh together. We're not close, but I want us to be. I want to cry with you.
I was reading my psych book and it was all like studying such and such "blindness caused by damage" etc etc... I thought it said studying such and such "blindness by causing damage"... At that point, I was like, wow, that's kinda wrong, causing damage to people's eyes for the sake of study... Pfft, I'm blind.
Write as you speak, or speak as you write? Does all good writing make good speech? Are all speeches good writing?
One, we're always right. Always. Two, follow rule number one. Three, something yada don't break rule number two. Four, get the door (it rhymes). Five, trust us.
Maybe it's something quantum. I can't have fun if people are concerned about me having fun. I'll have fun when you're having fun and I'll go take care of myself. That's so retarded. I can have unfun everywhere. Please, don't ask me. Ever. It just doesn't help. Neither you nor I will ever be satisfied with my answer. And that's not what we want.
Good art is like a science. Sometimes, it's all about the technique and masterful execution...
Good science is like an art. Sometimes, it's all about how elegant a theory is or how universal its philosophy is.
Cry me a river, build me a bridge, and get over it.
Eww, there goes my roommate, finally saying his peace, mentioning his total lack of sleep for the past two days because I stay up and do work. Well who's fault is it that you're taking up my study space by watching Jerry Springer? Hmm... Learn to sleep like a rock, just like me. I mean, I refuse to be sensitive to his needs because he's just a big jerk off. If he ever said anything substantial to me, then maybe, just maybe he'd deserve a quiet room. But no, I have shit to do and I will get it done by any means possible. Besides, I love being nocturnal. You're just dumb. You always sleep. Always. So, just shut the hell up and let me do my business. If you want me to chill at the house, fine, I'm there, just shut the hell up.
That and he makes weird noises in his sleep and never EVER keeps the room clean. EVER.
Unrelated: any person that uses the phrase "hunter-gatherer society" needs to be shot, quickly.
I dreamt... Yusuke-ing... Mang. In Laurel.
Maybe I still don't "get it". If someone was like Hey Mark blah blah blatant web design rule breaker blah blah something something Homer go crazy, I'd still be very, very angry and be like NO FUCKER YOU'RE WRONG, WRONG WRONG WRONG. Uncontrolled I tell you... That's the bad part about having a fire, sometimes. Wild and uncontrolled it is.
Edit: But oh, I remember... Telling someone that they're wrong or arguing with them wouldn't be very Taoist... Then again, in self defense (ahh, I just can't let it go, I need the last word...) you shouldn't really be preaching to the choir... But who knew. The answer, as painful as it is to admit... Suck it up. I guess. Deep sigh wonk wonk.
Actions speak louder than words blah blah wonk wonk communication problem minus two points fearing for my life ding blah.
Mark, go get milk.
Here's the part where I don't say anything, because anything I say just makes it worse, apparently.
Edit: A Taoist answer to make me feel better. If something feels wrong, no matter what kind of flow it is, it probably is wrong. So, even if you feel that putting your hand in fire is the right thing to do, but it hurts, you probably shouldn't do it. So I should probably stop talking in the hopes of making something better. Forget About Me, I Love You. Wow, this is so much harder than I thought. But, amazing. Thanks, Frank.
Do you use them for good, or for awesome? [Tim's profile]
Speak when spoken to, dark one!
I just had the most apocalyptic dreamcatcher to date... Oh well. It's like my Mom was banging on the door to inform me of the days errands, and then I feel back asleep, so here goes...
I think we were on the beach just enjoying ourselves. We were about to embark on some journey, and then someone's like we have to go. Then a guy's like if we don't go, we have to keep this fire alive, or something subtle like that. So he begins to sacrifice pages from a journal that would be vital on this journey. We're like no no, don't do that, so we shove some other pages of another book into the fire. Okay, so we're on a little slant or something on the beach next to what would then become Cypress, on some sticks and such. The fire is there, it grows a little, then it catches on the sticks near people's legs. It's funny, it burns for a while, then we get up and notice and we're like WTF, fire. One guy stamps out the fire to his left and is like wow, fire. Then, the mini fire to the right is bubbling or something and getting bigger. At this point, someone points out how that fire is growing unnaturally. Then, this sandy hill part has a landslide with the fire, and all I can see is a river of white foam just sliding away from the beach. The part of the beach where we sat was eroding. That was pretty fzcked up but it just kept happening. It was like a catalyst. Slowly, more parts of the beach just started foaming and falling into the ocean. Then it became diesel, making sweeping motions and just totally fzcking everything up. Then it started taking people away, and I think the weather began to match the mood of the situation too.
So there it is, people getting swept away. I wondered if I should dive in and help them, but that would be against some kind of rule of lifesaving. Can't save a life if you can't save yourself. Anyway, the situation eventually escalates into involving cars running on the remaining beach trying to catch people floating away. It's terrible, and so is the weather. For a while, I was amazed at how easily the cars handled themselves in water, like amphibians. I whisper to the person next to me, hey, maybe it's like the beach is relatively shallow (there's cars were mentally huge). People are saved, something happens, and all the water on the beach is gone. And it's not like a beach beach, it's like a big indent in the world, which the beginning of the beach a moderately large vertical drop. So it's like a rut. The world was no longer tropical, but a Warcraft black with all of its features showing. The discussion eventually evolved into what happened, with the entire beach just drained away from as far as the eye can notice, minus the background, like a vanishing point on those crackled desert planes. It turns into we're on second floor cypress, and someone on twelfth fzcked up the water, causing this huge ass deluge. Something like that. Confirmation was thirteenth floors expensive supply of water, or something.
Somehow, we get inside, and the one person I could pull out of the dream is Al. So I'm standing next to Al and more crap happens. It's like the end of the world. The sky glowed summore and down came this slow moving rock, glowing green, like an asteroid, bam, and it hit. There was supposed to be a shockwave of something, but I couldn't feel it from. All I saw was a shockwave of gray matter. I couldn't get a good view, because the windows in the building were up high. Everyone was looking up. So I see a corner ledge to my right and want to go up there. So Al literally boosts my fat ass so I can see. And then when I'm up there, I can see more asteroid type jobs, just gray and not glowing, striking the Earth. At this point everyone is panicking and we decided to get out of there. Actually, a little bit around that time, Cypress started to rumble a bit and it began to collapse or sink down. As it did, I kept mumbling the current state of the building like second floor Cypress is now the ground floor! Somewhere near my I got an image of floor plans that looked like key chains in a souveneir store, as if staring at those key chains would help us get out. Then Al said something about that's how Kahn did it back in the Marines. So, we were running for our lives, Cypress tipping over and collapsing and doing whatever it did. But I do remember clutching Al's hand for dear life, as if it was the only thing I had and couldn't afford to lose.
So blaw, we're outside and things are different. The sky is white and blue and the world is normal. But we're still in a rush. We're running past a quaint area of New York near the subway system, but the tiles on the walls were mostly white and blue. Like a very comfortable neighborhood, but still running through it with all. Then, one of the big tile walls had a Psi and an Upsilon on it with brown and yellow tiles. I'm like wow, and Al's like yeah we're right there and my name is one of the first on the list. It's as if the Psi U on the subway was supposed to denote how close the house would be if you took that line. So we run summore and we end up in Redwood.
I said Cypress before, but that's just a mental placeholder. This really was a warped version of Redwood though. And I'm with random peers (no more Al specific though) running up and down the stairs of Redwood. Mentally, it was all stairs. I'm like, where are we going? Lacrosse Joel's room, someone said. Apparently going to Joel's room involved going all the way up to seventh or eighth floor and then going all the way back down, because you can't go directly. So I'm getting antsy and I'm like damn it's the end of the world. I don't know what else to do but call Bergen County Adam. So I dial for Adam while running up the stairs and going through rooms, just following people to Joel's room. Adam doesn't answer the phone, but some girl does. I'm like, do you guys have some disasters where you are? She's like no but for you guys at NJIT it's just official business, like things were written off and not natural disasters. I told her all I could about what happened to Cypress and what was going on, basically retelling the story over the phone. And then when I'm done, I'm like, "If you see Adam, tell him I love him very much. I'll probably see you later. No, I will see you later!" and that was my phone call.
So we reach Joel's room and I think I wanted to call someone else. Then someone's like Mark you better speak up aloud this time, so I could retell the whole story to Redwood residents that weren't in the know. Then, Joel starts talking about his digs while everyone's there, specifically to Frank. And, as bad as it sounds, but for the sake of honesty and record, they were talking about jerking off on the floor and how nasty it was. He was like yeah and then we have to pull up the rugs and replace them. Egh. Then Frank's like all you need for the one eyed salute (that's the phrase I mentally used), all you need is some alternative technique...
And that's the end of my apocalyptic dreamcatcher. Yeah... Amazing, I know.
When you finally have something you've longed for since forever, you get complacent. And if you're ever aware of that feeling in itself, you know it isn't a good thing. To be ever satisfied is to die. And that's why I think this unwavering desire for whatever... It's so worth it, especially when what you want is to close and so far away at the same time. This extreme want, it drives you to the brink of insanity... It warps your reality and makes you focus on one thing and one thing only, for your entire being is consumed in this one thought. It's almost right in a sense, to have the world perceived in no other way. It is right, in fact, because that's all you see. All They see is the fire in your eyes, the undying spirit to do something, to have something, to cherish and know that it's yours... Somewhere, you secretly hope to never see the day where you're satisfied. That's the day the desire fades and your being is reduced to nothing. So here's to knowing what you want, what you love, and what you don't have...
There are some things in this world that for every day beforehand, I wished I could have. And now that I have it or am with it, I try to humble myself and want more, for it would be the only way I know how to properly respect it. You deserve my love and attention, and I don't want that to die.
Guys, we say, Happy Valentine's Day, not, Happy VD!
Haha, it's that thing I do when I feel all skank because I slept around... Yeah, I scored, haha (key reminder: no, I didn't really score, I'm just kidding).
This morning, it wasn't really a shameful walk... True, I woke up wherever, but I did a little skippity hop to breakfast. You know, something all nice and cheery that it's a freakin cold day, I woke up early, and now I'm gonna consume something nutricious. So there I am, all donned up in my uniform and pin shininess and I take my walk down that little asphault runway to Hazell. What do I do on my way there? Become super dramatic, slow my pace as if people that mattered were awake and watching, and mentally began to complain about how alone I am... That's terrible, isn't it?
Alone aside, how's about going down to where they were, seeing the most ghetto thing possible, and just being like, hey, I wouldn't have it any other way. That's the way it is I guess. Slammed with a little project, stacking on the time, the "credits", the obligations, the relations, the stress... But, I seriously think, I wouldn't have it any other way... Had I done something else 8:30 Wednesday night, I would have cried and whined my way through what could have been the shittiest semester ever. To Rich we say better to agonize than regret. At least with agony, you know what you're dealing with.
But, I stress, as one important man once pointed out, more obligations just means less hours spent wasting time. And I won't even go into this whole Just Do It attitude, because I think that's kinda shitty. It's still very proactive. So here I am saying just be, do or do not. Things just are. So let's flow, aight?
The important thing to remember is that I spent my time wisely and enjoyed myself... Now, however, is high time to enjoy a hot pocket and keep studying... It never ends, does it...
Last night, I did what was natural to me. I embraced what I loved, and I embraced it faithfully.
I split a reco where it mattered. Tasted pretty good too. (I'll only ever be rotating and eating things that people recommend. That is, cheesesteak wrap, tuna melt, disco fries, and now this parmigian thing...)
I reported back to my friends who deserved my attention... Who still accept and enjoy my return to them, should I follow up on it.
And i lazily crashed my cares away with the comfort of a new friend... Doing that whole head to toe thing on the couch.
But however I spent my time or where ever I slept, it was the most natural course of action I could offer myself.
I choose how to spend my time.
Watching the snow dust blow away or the pattern of the grass flow is a very neat thing to see. Almost as neat as the sun rays piercing through the clouds.
Transitive verb, definition three. To place in a position of trusting dependence.
Blah blah wonk wonk world revolves around me.
Now the world does revolve around you. Happy, now?
Even moderation needs moderation.
Some dragons breathe fire. Phoenixes are... Well, phoenixes are made of fire. Let's "experience the warmth" (hah, I can't believe I managed to fit that in) and burn time.
Where cliff jumping is like hot juice.
Good things happen. Bad things happen. Things... They just happen. And you just have to go with it.
In other news, cliff jumping rapidly becoming the leading cause for irresponsibilty... Upon further investigation via autospy (haha), victims were found to be sexually charged or emotionally attached prior to jumping ship. Go figure.
I'd stop the sun from setting for you. I'd stop time for you. I would command the oceans to be still and the stars to stop from twinkling, all for you. I'd do all of that and more, only if I could. But I'm no Superman. I can't do any of that. But I wish I could. You deserve everything, everything I can give and then some. Because when time stops, and the world is still, all I see is you, and I'm complete.
Wow, Mark, you're really emo. // What? I don't even know what that means.
It's unfair and I'm selfish. That's all there is to it. But I think there's a little bit of room for complaining. Just a little. And you should know that. But I'll never hold it against you, because I can't. But it'd be so much better if you could be psychic right now and at least know how I feel. (Feeling, a very emo thing, no?)
You don't know, but I want you to know. I want you to know, badly. Because once you know, at least we'll be on the same page.
Edit: Taoist. Akin to a flowing river that just crashes into a wall... Terrible. It'll continue flowing, but I mean, c'mon, crashing on a wall, repeatedly? Not fun. Not fun at all, dude.
I hate it when there are network spikes on campus. It makes my computer act all retarded, and then when I regain control, I'm greeted by doors slamming and bells ringing repeatedly because one whole section of my buddy list is going offline at the same time. Fantabulous. DING!
Phrase. When the success of one activity becomes misinterpreted as a contingency for life-long success. Example. Playing Mega Man III. // I can't get passed this pit. Jay gave me a cheat code, and that wasn't good enough. He put in two codes, and even then I died. // Wow, Mark. You fail at life.
I"ll actually defend Cobol. It's not sexy, but it works. [CIS Professor]
My philosophy, my education, and what I'd one day very much like to call my rocksteady.
Sometimes, the cheese stands alone. It's a painful yet necessary situation... What is there left to do but sit there and cheese out for a little.
If everyone in the world would be a little selfless, that would increase everyone's overall utility. Or benefit. Something. That's still a very simple and powerful concept to understand... Faith and trust in the face of darkness. You don't know what's going to happen. You can't control what's going to happen. Life just is. You're either going to ride the wave and enjoy or be bitter and wipe out...
I'm... Not worrying. I can't. There's no room too. I've got a bright future ahead of me, a semester full of productivity, and a nice, artistic outlet to keep me in check. No need to worry. They wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. So why not play copy machine and not worry as well.
Rich kept trying to console me using the word "love", which was kinda annoying, but it was meant well... Thanks, yo.
And onto flow, we reach the funeral service of my Tita Emily who recently passed away. In my mind, all I could envision was a river of life where all the people in the room were the pebbles and rocks that formed the river bed. My cousins and such are very beautiful and handsome people, and one of them took this diesel picture of our aunt. She looked so happy and beautiful. Anyway, I was all swept up by the emotion in the room. I imagined this river of life, with all us rocks, missing a rock... A really big rock, and that was Tita Emily. Every time this priest would say her name or every time I gazed at the picture, I'd cry a little more and mumble, that's not right... It wasn't right that I didn't fully appreciate her company when I had the chance to. It wasn't right that a life like that could be plucked from the mortal coil so easily. It wasn't right that my uncle had to walk the Earth sort of alone now, lacking a person to whom he committed his life.
On faith, being in the church and randomly going through Catholic motions made me realize how much I missed being in church or how pseudo fun it was. I'm not a hardcore Christian, nor do I appreciate the views of super Christians, but at the same time, a little Catholicism, I wouldn't have it any other way. If I had kids, I'd force them to grow up Catholic. Not because I'm restricting their choice, but because I want them to have that unepiphany. I want them to know that they want or don't want Christianity. There are some points in life (like the movie Independence Day) where even the most non-religious person will collapse and wish faith upon them. That's what it is. Another form of faith in the face of darkness, and there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with being Christian. So, today was also a reaffirmation of all the good things I liked about the church, like the music. So if I manage to snag any people that religiously go to church on Sundays, I would very much like to tag along one day.
And onto foundation... My uncle is a tough guy. I don't know him super well, but that didn't stop him from being a great family man. Before his speech (which was well written), he scanned the room, looking everyone in the eye. It was very powerful. And so on and so forth, I noticed this one particular thing before that, even. When everyone got lazy and sat down after receiving communion, he remained kneeling, in the best possible position. Upright, Catholic, perfect. And I though, wow, either he's a good Catholic, or that's the least he could do to repay his wife for a lifetime of happiness. There he stood, the only man in the entire church with the right to complain. I don't know how good he is at repairing voids, but it's difficult to fill that of your soulmate. Either way, I admire my uncle now more than ever for putting up a good front, keeping everyone entertained and happy at a time when a lot of people would just collapse.
I'm glad I cried it out of my system... It was very much a cry if others kinda thing... But that's okay, because we cried together and laughed together.
After a little chitty chitty bang bang with Memo, I finally got a mental grasp of my situation over setting up the laundry. It's just like a game of Tactics. No matter how sucky the odds or the party, the computer will always make a sound and calculated decision, as should I. So what if the world burns or my shirt colar isn't perfectly straight. Things like this happen, and you just have to roll with the punches. So. Look at my eyes. They're rolling. =) Nah, nah, I'm good. I feel so much better now.
I didn't really talk to them much. // Well, gee, looking back on that statement, I bet you know that's a bad thing...
Hah, all my negative energy is being channeled into what I didn't want to happen... I guess that's my punishment. Bleh. Might as well go with it. Go you, finally.
If I say that something "can't" happen, it will and then shatter my future. If I don't say anything and take a completely passive stance to the situation, then I'll be swept away by whatever force comes my way. In that way, I can't ever be wrong, only because the flow dictated as such. So, here's to blind faith and trust in the face of darkness.
So, it's like you hate everyone you have sex with? // Umm, yeah, I guess so. // Mental note, don't have sex with Mark. // Hey, wait, what the fzck?
Incompetence. Effort. Rejection. Failure.
Apparently some people aren't good at following directions or getting shit done. To rush is to go out on all stops for other people and make this advertisement experience of yours as seamless, friendly, and easy as possible. That includes, but is not limited to, rushing in the off season, getting to places on time, and actually giving a shit.
Wow, so you're a sock person? // Yes, I hate my feet. I feel so naked. I even have sex with my socks on. // Wha? No way. -- I have sex with my socks on, too. -- What? You're both weird.
I can see something romantic and be like, wow, I'd want that. And then I can think about all the baggage and crap that goes into a relationship, so I'm like no. Then, I realize what I already have and just with that the world would be a little bit more receptive of my neediness and just give back. At least I don't think I'm asking for much.
That and... I don't really know how to approach a room switch, or any of the random crap that will happen to me this semester. But I'm using the word "organic" as a defense to waiting to worry about it until the time comes. I hope that's what living in the now entails. Why worry now. Why overplan. Why set yourself up for failure and disappointment. Let's just say I thought about it, okay?
Pro, closer to friends. Con, no longer a member of the freshman floor. Pro, a productive graduation in the social ladder. Con, no more hot RAs. Pro, quieter floor. Con, quieter floor. Pro, suitemates that matter. Con, neutral roommate. Pro, no more annoying roommate. Con, no one to secretly make fun of and make myself feel superior. Pro, no more annoying PA to address to. Con, no more solitary shelter from reality. Pro, the enjoyment of my own room. Con, the enjoyment of my own room. Pro, friends available more often. Con, moving and effort required. Pro, I wanted it to happen some time. Con, it's only three fourths good. Pro, geekish roommate. Con, prankster. Pro, I got what I wished for. Con, I got what I wished for.
And speaking of wishes... I told Jay, the first time I wished for something, I got it. I said I wanted to meet a person that was as dumb as me. But now that I'm in some semi-regret mode, I say that I should have been more specific. So I'm like, Jay, should I wish for something again and be more specific or just not say anything?
In order to know what something is, you have to know what it isn't. Most of us are presented with a default setting. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But in the case that it didn't work, why is that? How did you know? Did you have an epiphany that, oh, this isn't for me, so something else might be it. You had a negative epiphany, or an unepiphany. You then knew what you didn't want which led you to what you did want. So, what of all those people who stuck with the default setting? Are they happy? Do they actually know what they're doing, or life just is? Is it suggested that they too should have the unepiphany of The Other? A challenge in beliefs in the guise of a reaffirmation.
Fuck you, Insult Victim. Mehr! (that's the sound of disapproval...)
Carry a big stick.
You know how every class has a weird kid? Well, the weird kid in question has a tendency to laugh, like really hard at things that are mildly amusing. But, as it saddens me to say, I was guilty twice of the same action in the same class with the same kid. I felt terrible. Guilty of? Laughing too hard. Sometimes, there are just things that strike you as super funny, but the rest of the world is like eh. I bust out twice, only in the hopes of finding others collapsing with me. With my one open eye amidst the hilarity, I find looks of disappointment. "What are you doing, man?" "Damn, it wasn't even that funny." "Yo, you're hella weird." "Fuckin' poser." It just doesn't stop. So I wrote a memo like don't do this again. And I did. That made me super upset, laughing like an idiot again. I didn't learn anything.
Come to think of it, I'm fantastic and not learning anything. Isn't that right, guys...
This sweater means a lot to me.
This sweater means a lot to me because the first time I wore it, I was in great company. That and it makes me look like a sexy bitch.
This sweater means a lot to me because I'm biting someone's style, but imitation is the best form of flattery.
So there we go. Rocking clothes by association.
I saw the twins outside... Each of them had a different hairstyle. One out and flowy, the other straight up pony tail. Maybe they were tired of being the same. Heh, all the while, I was thinking, "Kiss! C'mon, kiss! Do it!"
Mmm... Lacrosse...
I think an awesome part about flow and variable weighted choices in AI are gradients... Things don't have to be this or that. You can be a little bit of both, and that's okay. Sure, there's the whole reductionist action, but that's only when necessary. You don't have limit or classify yourself. Just be you. It's all good.
Oh my God... Worst dreamcatcher ever... I totally assed out on the couch in Jay's room...
I was trying to have some time to myself, getting rid of all the bullshit on my AFS account when a wave of sleep just overtook me... I put my head down and semi-realized that I was going to crash sleep sometime soon. I got up and decided to go to Jay's room and watch him play Warcraft. But I knew what I really wanted was to curl up into a ball just like Jay and sleep in the couch. I didn't think it would happen, but it did. So there I sat, half sleeping, talking to Jay about who knows what. A little later, he's like close the door if you... I mumble, okay, or something...
Then in the middle of this experience, I imagine what seems to be Matt coming over and wondering why I'm here. I mumble something about not being able to stay, and he's like no, stay, and stuffs the middle pillow upon me and forces me back to sleep.
Then, I dreamt about being late to a secondary honors retreat and meeting my friend Greg (I was like I Love You Dude since I hadn't seen him in forever, since school actually... yuck...) at where ever I was. So many images, not enough time... It's just all fading away...
As my consciousness was returning to me, I recognized Matt's presence, Jay's absence, and futility of my day had I completely let the sleep take over my body. I try pulling myself out of the couch to no avail. On the second time, I sprang up, apologized profusely to Matt, and slank back to my room, ready to wash my infected eyes and blog about it incoherently...
I totally assed out on the couch in Jay's room...
EDIT: I remember one part of dreaming... I was in Cypress, about to take the elevator to the fifth floor. Both elevators were racing down, so I was like wow, I have a choice. Some people flooded into the right one, and I was about to follow, but something made me go into the left one. It made one final twitching motion as I looked at it before I stepped in with some people. I look at the panel for the floor buttons and everything is stripped away. All I saw was buttons for floors 4, 5, 12, and 13. Freaky, even moreso that in a square layout that's not possible. Anyway, I'm like right on, fifth floor, this elevator might specialize in limiting floors and traffic flow (it's a feature, not a bug, like the Paris Hotel in Las Vegas). We take an uncomfortably fast ride up to the fifth and the door opens. The floor based door is all like Do Not Force Open or something. I'm like wtf, I need to get off on the fifth. The people seemed to be waiting impatiently for me to get off, as if it was possible. Then, I realized that one of these people was mentally designated The Elevator Guy, so he helped me off by gently pushing the gate out of the way. Oh, gently.
So blaw, I'm on my floor and I realize why the elevators are different. Cypress, as mentally stable as it was, became a hotel or something, complete with white banisters, a large void over the stairs, and just long, long hallways. The difference in the elevator was this big ass chasm in front of me... Like the floor caved in and it was under construction. So, the elevators mattered. I was like, fuck, I'm on the wrong side. I guess I'll just walk the hallway and go down a flight and use that runway and come back up the other aside. More stuff happens, I see Krysthian and all these other random people...
And then here's the important part of the story. Other crap happens and then I'm in a house that resembles the house of my cousin in Queens. I knew I was in Their company, so the setting was fine. I didn't know what was quite going on... Everyone was available, but they were away... Anyway, so this girl walks into the house and into where I am and I'm like okay, I should be aware. Stranger danger. Who's this girl. Maybe she's a friend of the house. So I move on. I mentally burn more time and I see this old guy. He freaks me out. Typical scary old Caucasian man with long white hair. In rags and such. Chillin with this average young college girl. So now I'm freaking out. This is totally an intrusion and I don't know who either of these people are. At that point, I didn't know what to do. I cried. And I don't mean tear, but I cried for help. I actually gave multiple helpless cries for the only person I could think of at the moment... To save me. Comfort me. Tell me who the hell these people are. Or get them away from me. I was loud. So among the people far away, one of them goes, dude, I think he's calling you.... So This Person comes down, explains to me that everything is okay, and then just dashes away as I try to apologize for interrupting the flow of the house...
And then that's all I can remember. Again.
Only geeks use the word recurse. Why? Because they know of the recursive nature of things. But the thing is, recurse isn't a word. And word creation, as shown by hacker-style vocabulary, is a nifty thing indeed. Recur is a word. And recurse isn't. But people use it anyway.
If I was a teacher, and I was feeling kinda sedistic, I'd totally enforce the following rule, you know, just to instill a little pace into the test taking: whoever finishes last gets an automatic F. Haha, so fannur.
That's right boys and girls, anime as a class offered at NYU. Mmm, tasty.
The feral glyph mocked the baseline with its open loop descender.
The spelling of the title is probably all wrong, but that's okay. I love Latin. Anyway, I did ever go over how cool the last name Roux was? Pronounced "roo" ... Diesel. Well, Dave, seems like you've got a one up on all of us in the last name department...
Oh and I like Slashdot humor. I really. And one of the meta-bits that I just recently noticed is all the spin-offs of Anonymous Coward, Slashdot's flagship user name for anonymous posts. One day, I'll Make A List. And it will be funny.
These Greek people sure were smart... I mean, are there any modern day philosophers? Or Rennaissance men who dabble in a little bit of physics and philosophy? Anyway, good quote, yoinked from Jay's prof: "It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it" (Aristotle). It's just like a layer of abstraction for a Java virtual machine... Ooo, I used the phrase virtual machine...
Someone was trynig to be cheap and tack letters onto the word "pray" in our game of Literari. So, he tried praypit and prayice. Pray Pit sounds cool. It's like an Undead Warcraft III building. And Pray Ice just sounds like a cool game move. Like a cheap desperation move.
Yo, that's so hot. The phrase "pray ice" isn't so out-and-about on Google... Sounds like a new section for HTMLism. 'Cause it's so Engrish.
Straight from the profile of a Warcraft addict: now playing Warcrack 3.
What is it called when certain endeavors (mainly web-based projects) can't sustain their own rapid success? One would think that in some circles and philosophies, up is just up, up, and away. Well, I guess in the world of constant proportionality, all that uppiness has to come out of somewhere. Hat tip to video game music sites, Anime Theme's struggle, and the original 5K...
To paraphrase the Family Guy: Oh my god, it finally happened! He's become so large he collapsed in on himself like a neutron star! (I definitely don't watch enough Family Guy...)
The literati is the educated class, or in our case, the NJIT Honors College. Intelligentsia, if you will. There has been some recent developments, however, that threaten the stability of the institution and the sanity of its members. The bane that falls upon us is the Yahoo! game, Literati. It all started with this one Filipino chick... It was her fault. Haha wonk wonk. Anyway, she basically reintroduced the game to our circle and now we're all playing it. Freakin'... And she cheats too. No one can get two bingos (scrabbles) in one game. That's unheard of. Meh. Mark bitter. Mark very bitter. Hehehe...
Oh and about this semester's threatening cloud lining... Three votes welcome, three votes no... And two votes Hey Mark, what are ya doing this semester... That, friends, may be the fall of a literati. Or the creation of one, I dunno.
Chalk one up for safe sleeping in a 007 world. So far, that makes four. The house, Oak, Rich's room, and this. I bet if you tally up all the times I've slept elsewhere, it'd definitely be greater than the time spent in my own room. Hmm...
Imagine, being was in my CIS 350H class all bitter that I didn't know anyone. Then I was forced to work with strangers in a group. How annoying.
Skip to my interest in specific types of anime. Jump to finding a person sharing such anime. Then transcend the elevators only to find three of four people you've already met and the fourth being your provider. The first is your very, very close friend (brother, if you will), the second a mentor, and the third now a peer in this semester's Econ class. Amazing.
But that isn't it! That isn't what makes this a small world. It's the fact that two group members from 350 are also good friends of the Found Four. That's a small world! Unbelievable!
Although... According to some people... It doesn't take much to induce Small World Syndrome. All you have to do is be Filipino and live in Jersey City. Hmm... Syndromes... Mmm, so tasty. Just like the Greener Side Syndrome.
Think, for a moment, what you did with your life since the semester began. Got it? Good. Now, imagine doing that same set of activites, only nine times over, effectively ten times in total. Would you be satisfied with how you're living your life? Well, you better. The semester is already at least 10%. Depressing, isn't it? I think of it as progress. Justin tells me so every morning. Tada!
I can't wait for the spring sun to enjoy its stay over the Newark skyline, so I could drown in its glory. I love sunlight.
I found something... Akin to Oaking... It sucks up my time... And here I am. Terrible. Just terrible.
It happies me so that I remember two distinct occasions when I was sleeping somewhere other than my bed that I told myself, Hey, I feel completely comfortable being here. The first was very recent, which nets like a thousand brownie points. The second was a while back, the morning after Project Graduation. Safety indeed. That means a lot to me, to the hosts of wherever I slept. I mean, like, how is that? When you sleep, you're completely vulnerable to weird things happening to you at night. But to truly just let go and have the night overtake you in a place that you don't call home is an awesome thing. Well, it's more of the people that you slept with rather than the place itself. Not sleep with, but enjoy the company of a tiresome day and let go of your cares together. That's diesel. I wish I could say the same for a third place where I've slept dozens of times (bearing merit to the Walk of Shame, as Big Mike pointed out...). The only reason I don't include it now (well, technically I am) is because I don't ever remember telling myself that I was safe... Well, now that I think of it, this third place could be split up into two physical places, but the principle of the thing is the same. I was completely happy sleeping elsewhere. I guess was I just so gosh darn lazy to appreciate it at the time. Wonderful people, these friends. Wonderful beds they have.
Countless psychological studies have shown that people in the throes of this hormonal storm are more than usually divorced from reality, particularly when it comes to making assessments about the person they love. They are -- famously -- blind to the other's faults and often wildly over-optimistic about the future of the relationship. Looked at coldly, romantic love is a chemically induced form of madness and a terrible basis for social organization, as the divorce rate in the Western world demonstrates. [76, Mapping the Mind, Carter, 1998]
That's what I keep telling myself, but it never happens. We have this thing, called seasons, where we're in the winter "season". I have two heavier jackets in my closet, but I insist on wearing my hoodie. Even in the face of the biting cold, I'm like no, the hoodie must be worn. What craziness. I don't bundle up usually. Just a t-shirt and the hoodie. However diesel the hoodie, my lack of sufficient layers probably merits the cold I have now. I feel all shitty, stuffy, and sneezy.
So were at the Olive Garden and a dish broke. Or, at least, we heard the sound of a dish break. So Joy's like, Opah! I'm like, wtf? We just say oooooo all the time... But opah works too. So next time we're all in the cafe, say opah. Fun times. We're Greek, or something.
Just how well of an organic game am I playing? I mean, even if I say I'm focused on studying, it's very difficult to ignore nearby threats. Threats so close that they exceed the ignorance threshold and just become a part of your world. Are you are blissfully swept away by said force and the world seems okay for a while... There will be road blocks. There will be bonuses. I guess I just have to be mindful of what my overarching purpose is. To study this semester. Study. Study. Maybe hang out. But only because the social pressure is unbearable. But study. Study. Study.