There’s a five alarm fire and I just remembered my desire. I wanna go into the sky and keep going higher.
Y’all don’t even know how bad I want this.
When I was a preteen I climbed a tree and reached for the stars. It took the firemen like an hour to talk me down but I saved on time by falling out of the tree instead. I may have spent six or seven years in intensive care and had my Sega Genesis taken away for part of that period but it was totally worth it to live the dream for just a moment.
Having spent most of my late childhood/early teens in the hospital without even so much as a day pass left me unable to cope with the social pressures of high school. When I wasn’t busy being thrown into every object imaginable (Glass beaker displays were the worst!) I spent my days looking forward to the night so I could stare at the stars. I just wanted to be among the stars sooooooooo hard it hurt me deeply.
Now where was I . . .
Oh right! I’m being burned alive in this fire! I think this will have to be the end of the post as I am now dead. Cheers!
I imagine that having a pet squirrel would be amazing. Like, wouldn’t it be really ticklish and weird if they climbed all over you? And what if you could train them to grab you small things off the top shelf and stuff? That’d be fantastic.
Today while on a break from my office job I decided to forego buying an album and bought sunscreen instead. After half an hour or so it hit me. When did I start having mature priorities in life? Why am I only thinking of this now at the age of 26? When was the moment in your life that you realized the same for yourself if you’ve done so yet?
Okay, now that I have an opening paragraph long enough to mess with the WordPress/Facebook previews, let’s get something going here. Something a little more exciting if I may . . .
Let me tell you about something that’s going to happen tomorrow that I’m not actually aware of yet.
In the near future I’m going to go completely stir-crazy. You see, I’ll be in the kitchen when . . . Ha ha, just kidding. I’m not that terrible of a writer.
It’s a little hazy but in my near future I see myself in a shabby, worn out three piece suit as if I just wore it through a fierce battle. I apparently become rich somehow. A wrecked hummer can be found parked in the middle of a casino lobby. Whether that has anything to do with me I’m not sure, but I’m being blamed for it anyway. I get beat up and thrown into jail. I escape. Making my way to a secluded forest north of a small town in a rural area of a central Canadian province, I use my money to become their king.
Using the resources of my small town I gather my loyal subjects together and we take over a smaller town. Then I pool the two towns together and take over a town that’s slightly smaller than the combination of those two towns. I repeat this until I become the Prime Minister. Then after a long struggle I finally manage to outlaw spiders while still having time for a sweet photo op before bed.
When this happens I’ll post pics as proof.
Memos are not a thing that I do well. I am so sorry.
However, I was informed that I no longer hate potatoes. And it’s kind of true! I will eat mashed potatoes when they’re soaked in like a million pounds of butter or gravy. I spent my high school/college years hyping up my hatred of potatoes.
Having seen more than my share of both in my time, I’ve recently started pondering the effects of those kinds of uninformed opinions and the effects they have on a person.
Empty praise is the result of good intentions, but as we all know good intentions by themselves rarely ever lead to anything that’s actually . . . Good. Being told that you have a talent that you don’t actually possess can cause you to waste your time pursuing something that you no interest or marketable talent in which could lead to a feeling of a life led running in the wrong direction. However, sometimes some arguably undeserved praise early on in the pursuit of your goal can give you the drive to keep going. Sometimes the key to success is simply being too stupid to know when to give up as the old saying goes.
Baseless criticism is extremely, extremely common. Just post your works onto any online forum made for people to judge works of your medium and you’ll learn the hard way within hours. If that doesn’t effect your self-esteem at least a little bit then you’re a stronger person than I. This sort of thing drives many people away from doing what they love. With that said though if absolutely nobody thinks you have a particular talent that you believe that you have . . . There’s a chance that they may be right.
Personally I pay more attention to my critics than those who praise me. Sure, part of it may be personal insecurities, but sometimes it’s just easier to sift through endless criticisms for something that’s well-written and informative than to ponder who’s praising me because they feel that they should for whatever reason, y’know? Not that I don’t enjoy genuine praise of course!
So recently I mentioned how I grew up in a small fishing village and moved to a city right after high school. After over seven years I’ve adjusted fairly well but every once in a while something still blows my mind. Over the years I was all like “Woah” when:
– I found out that bus monitors are a thing. People get paid to supervise children on school buses? I thought the driver was supposed the supervisor as well ha ha.
– On that note, some schools have an in-house police officer!? Dude. When I was in high school it was a huge deal when someone got busted for having weed in their locker that one time.
– So I was living with a couple friends a couple years ago and as I was walking down the hallway to our 8th floor apartment, it hit me. This single building has a larger population than my hometown.
– Wait, jaywalking laws are actually enforced? Huh.
– OH MAN THERE’S MORE THAN TWO PIZZA PLACES/BARS/ANYTHING WHAT IS THIS?
– Not everybody sits around a campfire every weekend and drinks while talking about some other time they were sitting around a campfire while drinking. Neat.
– Seeing three Tim Horton’s on the same street within a city block of each other. I’d love to have a business so successful that I can open that many stores so close together with all of them being profitable.
Growing up in a small fishing village with limited internet access, I hadn’t even really seen the internet until I started going to the library at the age of 14 at the next town over. Parental attitudes toward the whole internet thing led to our home not having any internet access until I was . . . 16? Almost 17? Point is, I didn’t grow up in any sort of online culture. As a side note the e-mail address on the right portion of this site is my very first e-mail address. Seriously, as a 25 year-old I assure you I didn’t come up with that recently ha ha.
Fast forwarding to about a couple years later I move to the Halifax region (The biggest ‘urban’ area in Nova Scotia.) to start college. With my student loan I bought my first laptop and signed up for my own internet connection. Unfiltered usage of the internet without any supervision!? It blew my small town mind! So many “artistic films” about “love” to be seen!
When I wasn’t busy boosting local Kleenex® sales (Brand is important here!) I was playing this shitty little online game called U-Dominion. It was basically a cheap MMORPG that was entirely about moving a little guy around a grid of squares, fighting enemies entirely with auto-battle and grinding out levels so you can continue doing this on different grids. The game itself was even more of a grindfest than most games in the genre but it had an always-on global chat. I’m pretty sure most people came to view it as a chat room with a simple game rather than the other way around.
Eventually I start talking to this one particular person in-game and she ask for my MSN (RIP MSN.). After adding her she starts to tell me a sob story about how shitty her life is in Russia. She seemed to require constant consolation but I was naive and felt like playing the hero so I went along with it. She (or even he, I’ll never know) eventually sent me some pictures of some Russian model and claimed it was her. Even then I knew that wasn’t the case but I felt pity that (s)he would have to lie like that for a self-esteem boost instead of suspecting that something was up.
Eventually out of the blue one day this person started going on about how they wanted to hurt him(her)self and craved physical attention. I almost, almost followed along but then stopped and thought about it for a minute. Having a sudden realization I ask if she was turned on by the thought of someone rescuing her from various crises. (S)he confirmed that was the case. Whelp, I hadn’t encountered anything like that before, and my 18 year old small village mind was blown yet again. After stating that I didn’t want anything more to do with this and that I was never talking to this person again I got all sorts of death/hacking threats.
And that’s when I learned (Surprisingly fast given my upbringing.) that I should never, ever trust anything on the Internet.
tl;dr: Stop sharing crazy factoids on Facebook without at least checking Snopes first. People lie on the internet for fun.
And now I use the internet as an excuse to draw bees on things.