I'm Just Here So I Don't Get Fined
My last post humors me... a lot. Also, a lot of things have changed, while a lot remains the same. I mean, Jarin is still alive. Granted, he is 8 going on 16, however he is alive nevertheless. That word makes no sense.
I mentioned something about health, and ironically that is why I'm here (no, not really... it's that Jew Card). I remember the first time I was forced to put paper to pen. I was a Freshman, and it was Engrish at Tri-Center. I believe the teacher was Mr Burke. I had that silly book thing, and would watch where the magic star was placed. I had to write up to that point. At first I would get creative with writing the same words over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. I could not cut and paste like I just did for 74% of that text. I would right the same word, or whatever, however after a while, I got to getting into it. You were called JOHD because that is how it started. It was hell being forced to write. That would change. It's no coincidence that when plugged as the name of a video game character, JOHD was always a "healer" of sorts. That leads me to the round about way of why I am here. I think I already said that.
So my health plan has a way to make free money. One thing is to join a gang, er, Mission. They had a "write in a journal" as one of the non horrible things to do (because why the phuck would I cut out fat, sugar, or exercise when I can sit on my ass all day?) and I decided to pick that up. It states it can help with mood, stress, productivity, self-awareness, and wellness. The self-awareness intrigues me since my third to last bullet point last post (504 days ago, or as I like to call it 12,096 hours ago) mentioned this. I remember doing a lot of writing to the point it could stress me out or alter my mood, because I would be reminded of some of the bad things in life. I mean, I keep everything because everything will remind me of things I otherwise would forget, and if there is one thing I apparently do not like it is to forget things. What was I talking about? No seriously, I was answering a question and I don't remember.
Oh yeah, I get "paid" to write. Now, technically I can flip a switch and say I do it, like many others most likely do, however we know that's not how I roll. So the strange twist that is 12,097 hours of passage comes full circle... or half circle... or 68 degrees of dodecahedron. Writing is supposed to help mood, but I guess that is only if you don't go back and read it (that's what I was talking about).
Here it is, your moment of xeno...
I mentioned something about health, and ironically that is why I'm here (no, not really... it's that Jew Card). I remember the first time I was forced to put paper to pen. I was a Freshman, and it was Engrish at Tri-Center. I believe the teacher was Mr Burke. I had that silly book thing, and would watch where the magic star was placed. I had to write up to that point. At first I would get creative with writing the same words over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. I could not cut and paste like I just did for 74% of that text. I would right the same word, or whatever, however after a while, I got to getting into it. You were called JOHD because that is how it started. It was hell being forced to write. That would change. It's no coincidence that when plugged as the name of a video game character, JOHD was always a "healer" of sorts. That leads me to the round about way of why I am here. I think I already said that.
So my health plan has a way to make free money. One thing is to join a gang, er, Mission. They had a "write in a journal" as one of the non horrible things to do (because why the phuck would I cut out fat, sugar, or exercise when I can sit on my ass all day?) and I decided to pick that up. It states it can help with mood, stress, productivity, self-awareness, and wellness. The self-awareness intrigues me since my third to last bullet point last post (504 days ago, or as I like to call it 12,096 hours ago) mentioned this. I remember doing a lot of writing to the point it could stress me out or alter my mood, because I would be reminded of some of the bad things in life. I mean, I keep everything because everything will remind me of things I otherwise would forget, and if there is one thing I apparently do not like it is to forget things. What was I talking about? No seriously, I was answering a question and I don't remember.
Oh yeah, I get "paid" to write. Now, technically I can flip a switch and say I do it, like many others most likely do, however we know that's not how I roll. So the strange twist that is 12,097 hours of passage comes full circle... or half circle... or 68 degrees of dodecahedron. Writing is supposed to help mood, but I guess that is only if you don't go back and read it (that's what I was talking about).
Here it is, your moment of xeno...