Hey guys,
This last week has been pretty good, my classes have been going good and those who don’t particularly wash themselves have been giving me a wide berth; so the essentials are ticking along smoothly.
Though lately there have been some mentions that university reps are going to be visiting my school within the next few coming weeks, this made me both excited and nervous. Seeing as how this year has been pretty sinuous for the most part, whenever the reps do visit, I’ll probably just go with whatever happens.
It did get me thinking about how things are going to go next year for me. Even though this year just started, things are going satisfactorily mellifluous; so I’m going to permit myself several months of anxiety while I attempt to figure out my future in the meantime.
The original program that I’d applied for was a split program between the local college here, and Bishops University. While this seems financially sufficient and acceptable, I’ve been wondering lately if it really is. You see, saving two years worth of room and board money would benefit me in exceedingly good dollar amounts and I would wind up ahead in the future.
However, lately I have been internally debating as to whether the price of my sanity is truly worth several thousand dollars. Seeing as how my creativity is typically sprung out of my cynicism, it’s possible that the more senile I go, the better I may end up at this towards the end; my reluctance lies in my wearied state to test this theory.
I don’t know, the real dilemma here is that I feel like a lemming. Though not your average lemming mind you, a conflicted one; the worst kind of lemming. While all the other metaphorical lemmings are throwing themselves towards oblivion with such misplaced certainty, I am the lemming that cringes at the threshold. Torn with envy and nescience, it seems I am the lemming yearning to discover the hundreds unfathomable truths in the world, but only able to realize them once I’ve thrown myself to the wind, so to speak… Hm.
As assiduous as I am to my own flummoxed and pessimistic perception, at this point all I really want is a direction. Seeing as how the end of high school really is only the ‘Start line’ of the rest of my life, all I want is an appropriate track for the race. Herein lies the problem, I’m tired of being told where I should run, and what track would be best for me; I rather pick my own track and arrive at the finish line with scraped knees and a smoker’s cough.
With a renewed sense of alacrity, I’m going to plunge my way through all the paths available to me. I’m going to work hard and make my choices carefully, before I allow myself to give into my voluptuary tendencies.
While I spend this week dreaming up my next several revelations, I hope the bulk of you keep reading, cause I truly appreciate the feedback; for those of you who are by some miracle still giving a shit about how things are going for me, I’ll see you next week.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
insanity is progressive, too.
Hey guys,
This week has been pretty reticent for the most part; the debacle with my classes was eventually resolved. As for the prepubescent children that cultivate these classrooms however, very little progress has been made. The most interesting and useful thing I learned this week is that the most productive (based on the terms of contamination, sanitation, and my extreme fear that ugly may be contagious) way to keep clean, is to carry around a small bottle of hand sanitizer.
In case of emergencies, I keep a bottle of Febreeze in my locker. It’s quite the effect to see the way these children will scatter when any kind of foreign (some might say clean) smells reach their nostrils. In the brief moment that I hold onto my Febreeze bottle for dear life, they all seem to become very aware of the threat of sanitation, and dart in directions only to save themselves. It oddly reminded me of gazelles running away when another, more dangerous (or in this case, bathed) predator was discovered within their midst. Please use the animal channel at your own discretion, to understand this.
Enough of that, though, the classes I’m taking currently are Accounting, Business, and Retail & Marketing. When I read this schedule aloud, a lot of people seem to be under the misconception that I’m dimly interested in these classes. I’m not. I had originally applied for Psychology and Philosophy; neither of which was available. This explains my limited, but very chilling association with the voluptuous prepubescent(s) thus far.
Most of the classes are desultory enough, when their not shoving down morsels of meaningless fact and knowledge down our throats. It seemed ironic to me when I found out they later expected us to, in full sentences of course, regurgitate in proper form, all of these tidbits of bullshit we thought was hard enough to sit through the first time . In my case the contents of my insouciant stomach would empty themselves across my page, only to reveal a full name, and obscene drawings of the instigator (or teacher) behind the plot to bury us in our own bed of meaninglessness.
It feels gratifying though, to go through so many hilarious routines and conflicts in the real world everyday. The same mixed emotions towards the children that I hate; Pity, that their mothers never taught them how to properly take showers. And Envy, oddly enough, the way they readily swallow whatever is defecated in front of them. It’s done in such a seemingly painless manner (no gag reflexes required) it makes me wonder if it might just be easier to accept that the world is full bullshit and ugly people, and to move on.
Like everything else though, it’s easier said than done. I’ve had the pleasure to meet a few individuals, who seem to, in a very mellow fashion, understand the same internal conflict this represents. They however have it figured out; they seem to have bought (or smoked) some kind of internal switch or mechanism, that can enable the user to simply not care at times, filled with nothing but glee, insouciance, and a large appetite, or the ‘munchies’. Though at the time they may not withhold the brain power to express these emotions, their intent is clear; while they look furtive and are easily overlooked, these people are the ones who have smoked their way through several years of bullshit.
Alas, I seem to possess enough logorrhea that no matter how many times I gain perspective on these kinds of things, they still seem to come out in the same jumbled and defibrillated tone. However, my acknowledgement towards the choice of these things and choosing the lesser of these two evils (silently rather than publicly) has got to count for something.
So while I wait for karma or some unknown force for compensation of the last 4 years of my life, I’m going to attend my classes and do what I’m told. To keep up with the progression of my insanity though, I’ll write again next week.
This week has been pretty reticent for the most part; the debacle with my classes was eventually resolved. As for the prepubescent children that cultivate these classrooms however, very little progress has been made. The most interesting and useful thing I learned this week is that the most productive (based on the terms of contamination, sanitation, and my extreme fear that ugly may be contagious) way to keep clean, is to carry around a small bottle of hand sanitizer.
In case of emergencies, I keep a bottle of Febreeze in my locker. It’s quite the effect to see the way these children will scatter when any kind of foreign (some might say clean) smells reach their nostrils. In the brief moment that I hold onto my Febreeze bottle for dear life, they all seem to become very aware of the threat of sanitation, and dart in directions only to save themselves. It oddly reminded me of gazelles running away when another, more dangerous (or in this case, bathed) predator was discovered within their midst. Please use the animal channel at your own discretion, to understand this.
Enough of that, though, the classes I’m taking currently are Accounting, Business, and Retail & Marketing. When I read this schedule aloud, a lot of people seem to be under the misconception that I’m dimly interested in these classes. I’m not. I had originally applied for Psychology and Philosophy; neither of which was available. This explains my limited, but very chilling association with the voluptuous prepubescent(s) thus far.
Most of the classes are desultory enough, when their not shoving down morsels of meaningless fact and knowledge down our throats. It seemed ironic to me when I found out they later expected us to, in full sentences of course, regurgitate in proper form, all of these tidbits of bullshit we thought was hard enough to sit through the first time . In my case the contents of my insouciant stomach would empty themselves across my page, only to reveal a full name, and obscene drawings of the instigator (or teacher) behind the plot to bury us in our own bed of meaninglessness.
It feels gratifying though, to go through so many hilarious routines and conflicts in the real world everyday. The same mixed emotions towards the children that I hate; Pity, that their mothers never taught them how to properly take showers. And Envy, oddly enough, the way they readily swallow whatever is defecated in front of them. It’s done in such a seemingly painless manner (no gag reflexes required) it makes me wonder if it might just be easier to accept that the world is full bullshit and ugly people, and to move on.
Like everything else though, it’s easier said than done. I’ve had the pleasure to meet a few individuals, who seem to, in a very mellow fashion, understand the same internal conflict this represents. They however have it figured out; they seem to have bought (or smoked) some kind of internal switch or mechanism, that can enable the user to simply not care at times, filled with nothing but glee, insouciance, and a large appetite, or the ‘munchies’. Though at the time they may not withhold the brain power to express these emotions, their intent is clear; while they look furtive and are easily overlooked, these people are the ones who have smoked their way through several years of bullshit.
Alas, I seem to possess enough logorrhea that no matter how many times I gain perspective on these kinds of things, they still seem to come out in the same jumbled and defibrillated tone. However, my acknowledgement towards the choice of these things and choosing the lesser of these two evils (silently rather than publicly) has got to count for something.
So while I wait for karma or some unknown force for compensation of the last 4 years of my life, I’m going to attend my classes and do what I’m told. To keep up with the progression of my insanity though, I’ll write again next week.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
back, for the first time
Hey, so this is officially my first blogspot post.
I guess it's kind of exciting doing this, but not really. When I decided I'd bother signing up on blogspot, I thought I could hold myself to a commitment of 1 blog a week. Though this seems reasonable, it's probably not going to happen.
Seeing as how I'm okay with a bit of 'vanity', I'll humor myself with my some very feeble attempts at writing anything passable as a 'blog'. Hopefully in the process a few of you will enjoy, or at least be entertained by how quickly this will go awry.
Now that we have the 'why' I suppose I could briefly skim over the remaining grievances that has led me to all of you today. I'm about 18 years old, returning to high school for 1 semester before I decide which direction seems most suitable for me to throw my life towards.
I guess I'm leaning strenuously in the direction of the department of English education, or creative writing. Though I'm fairly confident none of you would have guessed this, considering all the wit I'm able to conjure up for a blog probably resembles something like a 4-year old learning how to write in cursive. Except the child's attempt would be least funny to some, and would probably have at least some originality; whereas I'm just careless in my acceptance towards my very, very mediocre writing.
Oh, and my name's Dave. I guess it's kind of ineluctable that you'll all find I live in Cornwall, Ontario. So there it is.
Seeing as how I'm writing a bit more that I want to at this point, I'll try to bowlderize
how horrendous the first week back to high school has been. I walked back into the doors that seem to, without failure, steal the very essence away from my soul every time I go through them; this happend on Tuesday, September the 8th. It was nearly refreshing to see so many familiar faces I hadn't seen in so long, but the notion was quickly countered in the discovery of so many new faces that seemed to very slowly and consciously, drain my faith in the small concept for the evolution of humanity.
However, besides how ugly the kids were, the classes were miraculously worse. My first week was spent for the most part in the guidance office, attempting to remedy the disaster that was my schedule. It seems to have been take care of, and it's safe to say I probably won't learn one thing meaningful to myself this semester.
I guess it's always good to hope though, so I'll let you know how that goes next week.
I guess it's kind of exciting doing this, but not really. When I decided I'd bother signing up on blogspot, I thought I could hold myself to a commitment of 1 blog a week. Though this seems reasonable, it's probably not going to happen.
Seeing as how I'm okay with a bit of 'vanity', I'll humor myself with my some very feeble attempts at writing anything passable as a 'blog'. Hopefully in the process a few of you will enjoy, or at least be entertained by how quickly this will go awry.
Now that we have the 'why' I suppose I could briefly skim over the remaining grievances that has led me to all of you today. I'm about 18 years old, returning to high school for 1 semester before I decide which direction seems most suitable for me to throw my life towards.
I guess I'm leaning strenuously in the direction of the department of English education, or creative writing. Though I'm fairly confident none of you would have guessed this, considering all the wit I'm able to conjure up for a blog probably resembles something like a 4-year old learning how to write in cursive. Except the child's attempt would be least funny to some, and would probably have at least some originality; whereas I'm just careless in my acceptance towards my very, very mediocre writing.
Oh, and my name's Dave. I guess it's kind of ineluctable that you'll all find I live in Cornwall, Ontario. So there it is.
Seeing as how I'm writing a bit more that I want to at this point, I'll try to bowlderize
how horrendous the first week back to high school has been. I walked back into the doors that seem to, without failure, steal the very essence away from my soul every time I go through them; this happend on Tuesday, September the 8th. It was nearly refreshing to see so many familiar faces I hadn't seen in so long, but the notion was quickly countered in the discovery of so many new faces that seemed to very slowly and consciously, drain my faith in the small concept for the evolution of humanity.
However, besides how ugly the kids were, the classes were miraculously worse. My first week was spent for the most part in the guidance office, attempting to remedy the disaster that was my schedule. It seems to have been take care of, and it's safe to say I probably won't learn one thing meaningful to myself this semester.
I guess it's always good to hope though, so I'll let you know how that goes next week.
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