|Current music:||Malevolent Creation - Eve of the Apocalypse|
De er en kikkran suger is Norwegian for You are a cock sucker incase you were wondering.
This is an act against the will of man. To spend valuable time extensively reviewing and memorizing this meaningless information that man could give less then a shit about is wrong. Fuck you Horace Mann for creating the public school system and all the others who contributed to lousy means of education. What the fuck were you thinking when you decided that rote memorization is intelligence? This all goes along with my long running theory that public school is not to educate the youth, but to break them down and program them into the employee of the future. When you look at an office building you see a vast landscape of cubicals and one nice office at the end where the boss sits. The cubical workers are all the spineless little cunts in school who never stood up against the system and went along with it and always did their fucking work the honest way. When a teacher gave them something to do, they never questioned it, they just did it. But there is one person in every class who questions why. Why are you giving us this assignment? What is it's relevance? Who are you to be such a fucking dictator? While the school makes them out the be the trouble maker, this son of a bitch is the seed who sprouts into the boss. Once school has it's way with the others, they send them out into the world to get bossed around out there and fill out reports for shit they don't care about. It would be great to have a world with all leaders and no followers, but then who is going to do all the work? Slaves? Maybe. Everyone says the Egyptians were the most advanced race, way ahead of their time, but at the same time everyone is against slavery. I selfishly declare that I am okay with slavery as long as it's not me. But no matter what I think, no matter what kind of change I wish I could make, I'm still getting fucked by the system and have to get good grades to get into a good college to have a good life. I cut every corner possible along the way, so that helps. Here's a tip for you, honesty doesn't get you good grades. I flat out forgot about a homework assignment in Chem the other day. Of course it ends up being graded. Brennan thought she didn't hand out enough or something and us kids in the back of the room didn't get it. We agreed to lie and tell her we didn't get it so she gave us new sheets, gave us time to work on it in class, and we all got points for it. Honesty in that situation would've resulted in a zero. A big flat out zero. A zero that would have put a dent in my average which is low as it is already. If I ended up with a 79 or some shit like that in that class all because of that fucking homework assignment, I would have flipped out. But since I lied to her and got the points, I can sleep at night. I'm not evil though. Your morals within school are different everywhere else. I'll tell the truth to anyone but a teacher. I just don't care. Also, I cheat on nearly every test. Which is fine. The SATs go against everything you've ever learned and don't require any real knowledge or memorization. The SATs test to see if you can comprehend shit and understand it, problem solving. That is what school should be. If it was, I wouldn't feel the need to cheat. But I do because I don't really care for memorizing bullshit. Damn I don't write in this much anymore, I forgot what a stress reliever it is. I just ramble on and vent and later you fuckers can read this shit.
::Deleted paragraph about detailed murder fantasy::
Update: Progress on screenplay, still moving smoothly, I'm still liking the way it's going, the thought of filming this one is very exciting.
Today was Ryan Flamini day. It had all of the aspects of it. I felt like shit when I woke up and had an eggo and milk breakfast. A Ryan Flamini day is when something out of the ordinary happens and you are too busy thinking about yourself thinking back on that day later in life to fully grasp the moment as it happens. You just do alot of thinking basically, most days for me are Ryan Flamini days. Today's was a more gloomy one though. My dad's friend was diagnosed with some kind of cancer that isn't curable and he is basically just waiting to die. He didn't smoke, he exercised regularly, took care of himself, watched what he ate, he never bought food at work, always brought in his own and never shared, very crazy about being healthy, and he gets cancer. The man was a radiologist and worked his ass of because he hoped for early retirement. While this was very sad for my dad, it also was sort of like this wake up call that cancer and death is real and it could happen to anyone at any time, no matter how good you take care of yourself. He seems fine now, he's watching Brian Regan's stand up. But the past few days he hadn't been talking much, you could tell he was having a Ryan Flamini day. It just brings up the question without an answer, why are we here? Maybe my dad was looking as his life and seeing what he really wants to do or something and makes sure he does it. I don't know, I'm not good with controntation like that. He went out and bought this DVD recorder that copies VHS directly to DVD simply with the push of a button and he's copying all of our home movies to DVD. I came downstairs around six AM and he was sitting inches from the TV watching footage of him and his friends he shot in highschool. Maybe happiness is the key to life. Well, yeah, it probably is. Saying that is easy, it's the doing part that is hard. Who can walk around being happy 24 hours a day? I'm never really sad, and when my mood is kind of low I almost enjoy it because human emotion interests me. Why we act the way we do and what not. If someone says a few letters from the english alphabet in a certain pattern it is enough to break your heart, force tears out of your eyes, affect you so much. It's amazing. But reading about history, we don't have it too bad. Imagine living during one of the plagues and you wake up in the morning to smell the stench of death, look out your window and see a cart full of your neighbors who died that evening. Thousands of bodies thrown into the pit every week, people you knew, people you had a conversation with just hours before they dropped dead. Imagine that scenario in today's modern society. You goto school and people who are absent are absent forever. They're just gone. Well, maybe with some people that's a good thing. But what if those friends you meet at your locker between periods, or the kid you joke around with in class just drops dead. You would feel so empty. Everyone grows so accoustumed to it they don't even mourn any more. It's just perpetual gloom, no bliss nor misery. It is like the Limbo floor of Hell. Limbo is one of the only tolerable places in Hell, I wouldn't mind going there for vacation for a week. So yes, today was a Ryan Flamini day. I walked to the bus stop listening to Her Ghost in the Fog because that's my snow walk to the bus stop tradition. My mom wouldn't let me out of the house without four layers on. She made me wear an undershirt, shirt, sweatshirt, jacket, and gloves. It would just be the end of the world if the wind happens to blow while I stand at the bus stop for a minute or two. I felt like Randy or whatever the younger brother's name is on A Christmas Story when the mom puts on his ridiculous outfit for school. It didn't bother me though, if all it takes to shut my mom up is to put on some extra clothes, I'll do it. While I was walking I was just thinking about my dad, just wondering what has been going on inside his head and also what has been going on inside of his friend's head. He could quit work and spend the next how ever many days, weeks, months on a world tour taking cruises and everything, but would he enjoy it? It would probably be one of the most saddening experience of his life. I also wonder what is going through his family's mind. It's weird because I normally don't care when someone dies. Well it's different when you know somebody. Bobby Palermo, a month or so before he died, told me not to be upset when he dies. He said he didn't want a funeral, he wanted everyone to throw a party because he didn't want to see us sad on account of him. Bobby's philosophy was that happiness/laughter is the key to life and he stood by his word. He was going to have fun and he didn't care what the fuck got in his way. When he was cheating on one of his 9 wives, he got the girl pregnent. One day he made his wife babysit for the girl he was cheating on's child. Once he started putting up baby pictures they got divorced. You can see why he had so many wifes. He got kicked out of the military for pushing his drill sargeant down a flight of steps, he lost alot of jobs from mouthing off, he did drugs, and you are probably getting the wrong impression of him. He was a hard worker, worked for his money, but had fun while doing it. The one thing flaw with him not really giving a shit about alot of stuff was he never really got working on his biography. Everyone wanted him to because his life is so damn interesting and hilarious, he started on it and didn't get far. Maybe between all of my relatives I could peice his life together and get some sort of writing about him down. Yadda yadda I always say that being remembered is immortality and if you have a book or anything like that people of any time can read it. Look at this shit we read in British Lit. written in like 1100 AD. Some guy is on a boat in a storm and he is writing something down and all these years later we are reading what that fucker wrote. That's cool for some reason, maybe it's just me.
Well I guess this means my temporary state of blankness has worn off. For a week or two I was like a zombie and just came home from school and passed out in front of the TV and only woke up to eat. Things are going to be good, this weekend isn't going to be too bad, the midterms aren't going to be too bad, and the SATs which are next Saturday aren't going to be too bad, and once this is all over I will feel like Tim Robbins in the Shawshank Redemption when he breaks out of the prison and crawls out into the rain and raises his arms for the sake of freedom. Winter will fade away into spring and the world will come alive again. I just have to keep my sanity a bit longer and everything will be all right.
Before I go, I must share this feeling with you. I can feel a change coming, it's coming! The 50s had Elvis, the 60s had the Beatles, the 70s had Zeppelin/Floyd, the 80s had Metallica, the 90s had Nirvana. All of these decades had a band that changed the path of music for the better. Look at where we stand today in the 00s fuck decade. Pop singers and boy bands have turned into softcore porn, rap has reached a new low, the talentless punk is what makes it mainstream, and there are all these retro bands trying to bring back what once was. Give it up, it's over. You are like a cat in a blender, just crawl out. Don't try to make it fasionable to be cat smoothy. Did that even make sense? Anyway, music today is all about the image, all for fucking MTV who doesn't even play videos anymore. At least Millie Vanilli was honest and gave back the grammy for being a fraud, but what about all these current criminals? I'd like to point out the fact I speak only of American mainstream because Europe is where it's at right now with all of great bands coming out of Finland, Sweden, Norway, Germany, UK, etc. But America, something is coming, it has to. Rap is going to die out like disco once they run out of ways to say "get money, fuck hoes, kill niggas, do drugs." They already are running out with all this 'to the window to the wall' bullshit. Mainstream punk, well, who are we kidding, it's not punk. Punk is misfits, iggy pop, sex pistols, etc. This All American Rejects, Simple Plan, The Used, Good Charlotte bullshit just isn't punk. Punk died with the spirit of the 70s,80s, and 90s. Maybe there was no apocalyptic nuclear holocaust when the ball dropped and the date read 2000, but as far as music is concerned, there was. All this shit now is the mutants and soon something will come to blow those fuckers away and once again define a decade of music and create timeless works of art rather than 'this weeks hit.' I wonder how much longer it will be for the change?
Okay, I'm done. ::let's out a great sigh of relief, a stretch, and a yawn:: Yep. I feel normal again which is good. Bye bye people who read this.
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