Okay, okay. So perhaps I'm bitter. But the sounds of vicious lovemaking coming from the bedroom adjacent to mine tell me that I'm just a normal person, who is annoyed by the amount of noise her roommates feel they need to make during sex.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy sex as much as the next person, and most would think my adverse attitude toward what is going on in the next room is based solely on frustration.
Blah blah, single woman not getting laid. She's just mad because she's not getting any.
Nope, not the case. I am, however, irritated about the fact that I am basically shut in my room until they decide that they're done.
Oh my god.
Now they're talking about getting married.
Fuck my life, guys.
What's girl to do. They keep moving around, and I can only hope that means I can fucking piss.
It's been well over an hour.
>:[
-fin.
Tuesday, November 11
Monday, November 10
Another Cellphone Rant.
Get over it, Jane. You're probably never going to have your amazing Sidekick back.
I have to hand it to my parents. They know how to spoil a kid. Just this past week, my Mom and Pops handed my my brand new UX260, made by LG. Now, normally I would be very excited to receive a new cellphone, as I'm sure any self-respecting college student would. But why on Earth, would a company sell phones, that are being returned for technical problems, by the SAME customer, numerous times? You would think that this would lead to other customers, who have the same phone, to do the same. One person can not possibly receiving ALL of the faulty ones. I have returned this phone four times, since I first purchased it in August. Why, you wonder? The keyboard on the UX260 (The LG Rumor, according to Sprint) does not work more than five times, before it skips, and causes your cell phone to turn off. Wonderful. Someone give me a BlackBerry. A Razr, even! Anything to end my suffering.
No, I'm not finished.
This phone is just ugly. I will not apologize.
Friday, October 31
As a disclaimer, I am a shameless asshole, and I strongly dislike most people.
Take into consideration, mind you, that I am twenty-one year old college student. I have no place judging those in my age group.
But, there is one class of young person that I just cannot tolerate.
The "bro". The simple-minded feminized male that hangs out with 'the boys' more on a weekly basis, than I would hang out with my best friend in a year. It's sad, really. They come in large groups, and generally carry shitty characteristics such as bad pick-up lines, in their pockets.
For instance, while at a bar recently, I was assailed by a young man; approximately twenty-two, wearing a button-down shirt and khaki shorts.
Said young man did not appreciate the fact that I was not paying remote attention to him, so he attempted a new angle: the pick-up line.
Conversation went as follows:
Bro: "Have you seen any woodland creatures around here tonight?"
J: "Uhhh. Nope. Not as far as I recall."
(Seconds pass...)
J: "Why...?"
Bro: (thrusting his bulging forearms in my face,) "BECAUSE THESE ANACONDAS ARE HUNGRY!"
(Scores of laughter from his mates ensued, upon his receipt of my dumbfounded expression.)
C'mon. Ladies. Really? Do they think that by acting like common domesticated animals, they will succeed in charming today's sophisticated upper-crust women?
I doubt it.
Scumbags, beware.
We can see right through you, and we're smarter than you give us credit for.
Take into consideration, mind you, that I am twenty-one year old college student. I have no place judging those in my age group.
But, there is one class of young person that I just cannot tolerate.
The "bro". The simple-minded feminized male that hangs out with 'the boys' more on a weekly basis, than I would hang out with my best friend in a year. It's sad, really. They come in large groups, and generally carry shitty characteristics such as bad pick-up lines, in their pockets.
For instance, while at a bar recently, I was assailed by a young man; approximately twenty-two, wearing a button-down shirt and khaki shorts.
Said young man did not appreciate the fact that I was not paying remote attention to him, so he attempted a new angle: the pick-up line.
Conversation went as follows:
Bro: "Have you seen any woodland creatures around here tonight?"
J: "Uhhh. Nope. Not as far as I recall."
(Seconds pass...)
J: "Why...?"
Bro: (thrusting his bulging forearms in my face,) "BECAUSE THESE ANACONDAS ARE HUNGRY!"
(Scores of laughter from his mates ensued, upon his receipt of my dumbfounded expression.)
C'mon. Ladies. Really? Do they think that by acting like common domesticated animals, they will succeed in charming today's sophisticated upper-crust women?
I doubt it.
Scumbags, beware.
We can see right through you, and we're smarter than you give us credit for.
Thursday, October 30
Dope. Dirt. Brother. Nixon. Judas. In other words, heroine.
I have never tried it. I never will.
But it is amongst my generation like a plague. I have gone no where on my travels and not heard of its use. I do in fact, have several friends that are former heroine users. There is every chance, that they are still using.
What is this black tar plague that has infected America's youth? To the government, it is under watchful eye. But the population itself? Not nearly to the degree that it should be.
Now, I am not hating on the substance itself. Just the destructive side-effects that I have seen come from its use. Ironically, I can think of no 'good' things about the drug, perhaps except, the high itself.
But is it really even enjoyable? The sources I have spoken to say so, but I am inclined to disagree.
Perhaps this is a subject I am not fit to speak on, but as an advocate for freedom as a term, I am going to share my thoughts, regardless.
In my limited experience with users, I have heard only awful horror stories of the come-down; the biting period after use that makes one feel as though he is dying a slow, painful death. But, perhaps dramatist points of view are necessary to prevent its use by others. I am not to be the one who makes that decision.
This rant deserves a disclaimer:
Every day, I am surrounded by people in my age group, who are just trying to survive, one day at a time. They are not to be judged, or thought ill of. They are people, like myself, and you who is reading this.
Never for a moment think that you are above someone suffering from addiction, or experimenting with drugs. They are human beings, just trying to survive as you are. Not every facet of life is the same, but we are all equal; human beings by design.
I have never tried it. I never will.
But it is amongst my generation like a plague. I have gone no where on my travels and not heard of its use. I do in fact, have several friends that are former heroine users. There is every chance, that they are still using.
What is this black tar plague that has infected America's youth? To the government, it is under watchful eye. But the population itself? Not nearly to the degree that it should be.
Now, I am not hating on the substance itself. Just the destructive side-effects that I have seen come from its use. Ironically, I can think of no 'good' things about the drug, perhaps except, the high itself.
But is it really even enjoyable? The sources I have spoken to say so, but I am inclined to disagree.
Perhaps this is a subject I am not fit to speak on, but as an advocate for freedom as a term, I am going to share my thoughts, regardless.
In my limited experience with users, I have heard only awful horror stories of the come-down; the biting period after use that makes one feel as though he is dying a slow, painful death. But, perhaps dramatist points of view are necessary to prevent its use by others. I am not to be the one who makes that decision.
This rant deserves a disclaimer:
Every day, I am surrounded by people in my age group, who are just trying to survive, one day at a time. They are not to be judged, or thought ill of. They are people, like myself, and you who is reading this.
Never for a moment think that you are above someone suffering from addiction, or experimenting with drugs. They are human beings, just trying to survive as you are. Not every facet of life is the same, but we are all equal; human beings by design.
Monday, September 15
New Home, New Drug War: A Generation in Trouble
Ah, what can I say about Portland, Maine? I could begin with the beautiful Old Port architecture, or the nifty cobblestone-style streets. I could describe the intriguing people that hang out on the local common, playing unusual instruments and smoking cigarettes. But I feel as though this would do no justice to those that are merely trying to get by in this fair sea-side city. I feel as though I would not be paying homage to the struggle that the vacationing tourists never see.
I have spent many interesting nights in Portland. On side streets, in dark hallways and darker rooms. I have seen a nightlife that many will never understand, and though I am not always in agreement, I have never judged. It is impossible to understand why people make the decisions that they do, but why be the deciding factor in an equation that isn’t yours? I have made my choices, and I wish to not be judged by them. There is addiction. There is sexuality. There is so much reality in the youth of this place; there is so much passion that is yet undiscovered. We are a city that is full of life.
What is a mistake when you are trying to make the basics come together? What is one more trial when you’re used to battling the system? I am enlightened watching those around me. I have watched my friends feed themselves drugs and booze, just waiting for the break in monotony. It is a reality. It is an escape that some choose, and though I am not a participant, I can understand the need. I have my vices. I can admit that. This being yet another reason behind my lack of judgment. Where is the stopping point for this degradation? When will my generation be accepted as a party of knowledgeable American citizens? We have perspective, and can clearly see what the future will hold if we don’t act quickly. The American public takes how much notice of our strengths? None. Clearly, American youth, we are on our own.
But what CAN we do to fight what our government has set before us? What can we do to argue the rights that were set before us, over two hundred years ago? What will bring us from the shadows of drug abuse and alcoholism to the forefront of modernism? We can vote. We can educate ourselves on the government that will be put into place in two thousand nine. What I see when I look around me often times lessens my hope for a generation. I am sometimes disappointed in the bleak outlook that many of my peers today possess. But what can be done to encourage them? It is easier than ever for us as a symbiotic unit to act in favor of our rights, yet so many turn down those simple opportunities. We have driven ourselves to think that we are a dying age; a generation lost to war, starvation, disease, and economical struggle. The media has been of no help, and the government has not given us hope. Both facets of American culture were, unfortunately, designed to do things that are seemingly impossible at this time. This is why action is most necessary now: we as youth have been handed a diplomatic disaster, and it will be the responsibility of my age group to clean up the mess. We must take interest, before we are left to fall.
Yes, I may seem nearly militant, and I assure you that no disaster is in the making. I am merely concerned for those around me who have not been granted the chance to think for themselves. Those who are not able to stand up for what will be left to them and theirs. It is our time for action. It is time for a nation of future leaders to rise and grasp what it is being handed, before time runs out.
Think on these things.
I have spent many interesting nights in Portland. On side streets, in dark hallways and darker rooms. I have seen a nightlife that many will never understand, and though I am not always in agreement, I have never judged. It is impossible to understand why people make the decisions that they do, but why be the deciding factor in an equation that isn’t yours? I have made my choices, and I wish to not be judged by them. There is addiction. There is sexuality. There is so much reality in the youth of this place; there is so much passion that is yet undiscovered. We are a city that is full of life.
What is a mistake when you are trying to make the basics come together? What is one more trial when you’re used to battling the system? I am enlightened watching those around me. I have watched my friends feed themselves drugs and booze, just waiting for the break in monotony. It is a reality. It is an escape that some choose, and though I am not a participant, I can understand the need. I have my vices. I can admit that. This being yet another reason behind my lack of judgment. Where is the stopping point for this degradation? When will my generation be accepted as a party of knowledgeable American citizens? We have perspective, and can clearly see what the future will hold if we don’t act quickly. The American public takes how much notice of our strengths? None. Clearly, American youth, we are on our own.
But what CAN we do to fight what our government has set before us? What can we do to argue the rights that were set before us, over two hundred years ago? What will bring us from the shadows of drug abuse and alcoholism to the forefront of modernism? We can vote. We can educate ourselves on the government that will be put into place in two thousand nine. What I see when I look around me often times lessens my hope for a generation. I am sometimes disappointed in the bleak outlook that many of my peers today possess. But what can be done to encourage them? It is easier than ever for us as a symbiotic unit to act in favor of our rights, yet so many turn down those simple opportunities. We have driven ourselves to think that we are a dying age; a generation lost to war, starvation, disease, and economical struggle. The media has been of no help, and the government has not given us hope. Both facets of American culture were, unfortunately, designed to do things that are seemingly impossible at this time. This is why action is most necessary now: we as youth have been handed a diplomatic disaster, and it will be the responsibility of my age group to clean up the mess. We must take interest, before we are left to fall.
Yes, I may seem nearly militant, and I assure you that no disaster is in the making. I am merely concerned for those around me who have not been granted the chance to think for themselves. Those who are not able to stand up for what will be left to them and theirs. It is our time for action. It is time for a nation of future leaders to rise and grasp what it is being handed, before time runs out.
Think on these things.
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About Me
- oh, devil.
- i am young, though every sunrise brings another aching muscle, another sore joint. i am wise, though every mistake holds consequences, and every hurt makes room for emptiness. I will one day rise; face myself, and let knowledge run rampant.