subject
This livejournal is left wanting for content. I feel somehow obliged to post in this journal that is allocated to my journalising in this 0 and 1 place of ... communication, in much the same way I feel obliged to give over as much of myself as I can to specific people in my life to ensure that they are feeling as comfortable as possible (but this is a story for another paragraph, unless I forget to put in that paragraph, in which case it will probably be a story for another paragraph... just not in this entry O: ).
That paragraph was rather strange, I feel some sort of return to form. By return to form, I mean writing sentences that don't qualify as sentences that only seem to make sense to me at the time of writing and not at the time of not writing, be it before or after the time of writing to either me or any other audience the journal may attract.
All of that was two sentences.
That paragraph was one sentence long. What am I going to do now? I don't know. I am listening to one of the 1600 podcast episodes that I downloaded it. An interesting point, don't boycot a store with policies you don't agree with, steal from them. Or should you? What is more damaging to something you do not agree with, not supporting them with your money, or not allowing other people to support them with their money by denying those other customers access to stock by taking it yourself without paying for it? But if you do that, will the sentiment be overshadowed by the salience of the act of the theft in the first place? Any message you have will be masked by the stench of your devious act against the evil corporation.
There is only one solution for this problem. You should kill yourself. The quickest way to reduce all your problems and all those affronts to your sensibilities to nothing is for you to take yourself out of the equation. If you die then there will be no possibility of them interacting with you. However, if there is an afterlife and if you kill them and then kill yourself, you may be stuck with them for longer than you anticipated. Maybe you will be stuck with people worse, but that is the price you pay.
I have a question, it is a seemingly serious question (my therapist says I can only come up with the answer for myself, so maybe I won't bother asking you the question. Yeah, I'll go with that).
So I woke up today after just under two hours of nap time; the night before being spent on reading TV Tropes and health discrepancies research while downloading podcasts in the background. It came to my attention that I wanted to go to sleep again. I was terrified of going to university as it would put me back in my place again. I would no longer be Shaun the vaguely defined (if at all) black smoke monster of ambiguity. I would undergo metamorphosis into Shaun the disgruntled Psychology student who is making no progress on his Honours thesis because he has no motivation to complete his degree as he already has a degree and even though he can't seem to get a job with that one it is something better than not having a degree and it is another pointless milestone reached in one particular pathway through life.
So without knowing what the point of that paragraph was, I ate breakfast, held a cat against its will and then got into a form of transport which took me to another form of transport which then took me to another form of transport which then took me to the University where I spent the free time I had downloading audio books and watching videos on the internet.
I then went to a class and dreaded assessment time because they seem to think that they can measure someone's worth based on their performance on an essay. They seem to believe that ability is quantified in a numerical measure. That was the basis of my acceptance into honours last year and that was what shocked my supervisor when she saw me struggling with the work ahead. I had the marks, I should be able to continue. Obviously not.
I don't seem particularly invested in my honours project and I also seem to quite hate myself.
So self is being able to see yourself and abstract it into a story.
There is no closure to this entry. That really depends on whether there was any sense of cohesiveness about the whole thing for there to be any sense of expectation built up into the audience it is intended for, for there to be any sense of disappointment in the fact there is no proper end to the entry. I suppose this little tangent would in some way mutate into some sort of bizarre end to a not quite interesting or conventional entry. I don't think this entry should have an audience. No one should read this. It is a bizarre and perverse thing, really, showing off your worries and such similar stuffs to the relative strangers that populate the internet. However, we continue to produce content, like pies, being fed to hungry whales... People will read and comment.
I don't receive many comments.
I suppose that would be some sort of confirmatory evidence that this really should have no audience because it is not an audience's business what I feel about the piece of paper I take notes on so I can structure my essay that I will later print out at Uni because of last minute changes I made to it when I decided I was in some way wrong about the way I structured the thing. Nor should they read it; and they don't.
Which then brings me back to my initial point of this being a waste of access to space that someone else could be publishing their thoughts with; it seems whether I update or not, I am still a waste of this space. I am just not that interesting. Not interesting enough for a wide audience. I am doomed to failure as one of many many uninteresting outlets of awkwardly spun, yet vaguely homogenous waste that floods the internet.
With that I take my leave
That paragraph was rather strange, I feel some sort of return to form. By return to form, I mean writing sentences that don't qualify as sentences that only seem to make sense to me at the time of writing and not at the time of not writing, be it before or after the time of writing to either me or any other audience the journal may attract.
All of that was two sentences.
That paragraph was one sentence long. What am I going to do now? I don't know. I am listening to one of the 1600 podcast episodes that I downloaded it. An interesting point, don't boycot a store with policies you don't agree with, steal from them. Or should you? What is more damaging to something you do not agree with, not supporting them with your money, or not allowing other people to support them with their money by denying those other customers access to stock by taking it yourself without paying for it? But if you do that, will the sentiment be overshadowed by the salience of the act of the theft in the first place? Any message you have will be masked by the stench of your devious act against the evil corporation.
There is only one solution for this problem. You should kill yourself. The quickest way to reduce all your problems and all those affronts to your sensibilities to nothing is for you to take yourself out of the equation. If you die then there will be no possibility of them interacting with you. However, if there is an afterlife and if you kill them and then kill yourself, you may be stuck with them for longer than you anticipated. Maybe you will be stuck with people worse, but that is the price you pay.
I have a question, it is a seemingly serious question (my therapist says I can only come up with the answer for myself, so maybe I won't bother asking you the question. Yeah, I'll go with that).
So I woke up today after just under two hours of nap time; the night before being spent on reading TV Tropes and health discrepancies research while downloading podcasts in the background. It came to my attention that I wanted to go to sleep again. I was terrified of going to university as it would put me back in my place again. I would no longer be Shaun the vaguely defined (if at all) black smoke monster of ambiguity. I would undergo metamorphosis into Shaun the disgruntled Psychology student who is making no progress on his Honours thesis because he has no motivation to complete his degree as he already has a degree and even though he can't seem to get a job with that one it is something better than not having a degree and it is another pointless milestone reached in one particular pathway through life.
So without knowing what the point of that paragraph was, I ate breakfast, held a cat against its will and then got into a form of transport which took me to another form of transport which then took me to another form of transport which then took me to the University where I spent the free time I had downloading audio books and watching videos on the internet.
I then went to a class and dreaded assessment time because they seem to think that they can measure someone's worth based on their performance on an essay. They seem to believe that ability is quantified in a numerical measure. That was the basis of my acceptance into honours last year and that was what shocked my supervisor when she saw me struggling with the work ahead. I had the marks, I should be able to continue. Obviously not.
I don't seem particularly invested in my honours project and I also seem to quite hate myself.
So self is being able to see yourself and abstract it into a story.
There is no closure to this entry. That really depends on whether there was any sense of cohesiveness about the whole thing for there to be any sense of expectation built up into the audience it is intended for, for there to be any sense of disappointment in the fact there is no proper end to the entry. I suppose this little tangent would in some way mutate into some sort of bizarre end to a not quite interesting or conventional entry. I don't think this entry should have an audience. No one should read this. It is a bizarre and perverse thing, really, showing off your worries and such similar stuffs to the relative strangers that populate the internet. However, we continue to produce content, like pies, being fed to hungry whales... People will read and comment.
I don't receive many comments.
I suppose that would be some sort of confirmatory evidence that this really should have no audience because it is not an audience's business what I feel about the piece of paper I take notes on so I can structure my essay that I will later print out at Uni because of last minute changes I made to it when I decided I was in some way wrong about the way I structured the thing. Nor should they read it; and they don't.
Which then brings me back to my initial point of this being a waste of access to space that someone else could be publishing their thoughts with; it seems whether I update or not, I am still a waste of this space. I am just not that interesting. Not interesting enough for a wide audience. I am doomed to failure as one of many many uninteresting outlets of awkwardly spun, yet vaguely homogenous waste that floods the internet.
With that I take my leave