To all the ignorant fuckers on the skytrain!!

I can understand having pleasant conversation between friends while riding on public transit, I do it frequently.

The one thing that seems to be forgotten more frequently, especially at night, is that it is PUBLIC transportation, and it's easy to offend those people around that have no other choice other then to be forced to grind teeth in the agony of baring witness to the meaningless ramble about lame hockey talk.

Who in their right minds actually idolize people fro playing hockey so much that they feel the need to yell, swear, shout, holler, and argue about what player is better then the next, and what team is better then another. These public transport cocks that hold the airwaves hostage are losing the sense of where they are and the ideas of respect for the rest of the world goes out the window. The topics of the sport utterly upset me to no end, who actually needs to hear about the salary of the referees??!! Who cares who has more injuries or anything?!?! If I was a religious man, I would pray to whatever god that I believed in to help these hairy backed drunken gorillas to man up, grow a pair, remove the mental tampon, and learn how to act in public and to learn about some kind of an intellectual topic aside from sports and the size of one another's sticks.

There is the potential to lead through the strong degree of opinion and strong views, but the goals are diluted.

I know this entry is short, but enough has been said.

Wear your own clothes, not someone else's name. Fuck off!


Joshua FACT!
NNP!
cynicaldigestion.blogspot.com

The effects of the oblivious heart??

There are very few things that should hold any degrees of impression on the well being and happiness of ones self. Some are necessary and a few are optional.

Shelter, clothing, food, water, self love and external affection.

The only thing that should have a variable outcome and therefore the highest amount of pressure is external affection. There are two parties involved to be able to achieve that as a fifth element of happiness thus making the inevitable variable.

The major problem with this, is that it becomes such an acceptable topic of thought and discussion when one is unhappy with their current situation, however, it remains a totalitarian topic of 'the ultimate taboo' to discus the real sense of emotion. One can easily say "I didn't like her" or "She flaked out on me", "I'm not into a relationship right now". On the contrast, it would seem that one can not and should not make a proclamation of desire to the opposition of needs. One can't say "I have love, but no one to give it to".

Due to the social political nature of class, judgment, outward appearance, and social rankings of the city I reside in, it becomes even more of a punishable offense to admit such feelings or needs as a man. A straight male, as I am, has an even tougher time trying to maintain dignity and pride, while being expected to 'bottle it up'. We are supposed to be a progressive society, and yet its more then frowned upon to express oneself to a woman that is in line for modern courting, it will inevitably be a cause for rejection if the balance of flirt to expression is thrown off in the slightest.

A man can admit to 'liking' a girl, or even 'loving' a girl, but the big social no-no is to announce that one is looking for love and not just a lay. The double standard is the anti-idealistic principle that we men with feelings have to live with. Women can openly talk about and admit their want for happiness through mutual love between a man and a woman, but a man can only lust for practicing the fine art of unwed fornication.

Is it so wrong to rate 'pillow talk' higher on the scales of pleasure over and above 'knocking boots'?

How can a man find love if he's forbidden to look?


Joshua FACT!
NNP!
cynicaldigestion.blogspot.com

A small token into the mind of Mr. FACT on a day to day experience.

I'm really ADHD'ing out and it's a little freaky. Everything is pissing my off.

I don't know... It's like some kind of a mild OCD tangent... I'm really pissing me off. Just relax and think of something happy?? I try, and then get flooded... I'm trying to just calm the fuck down. I should blog or something, maybe. I guess here is my answer to that thought. Sometimes writing helps, but I'm so fuckin' antsy that I don't know if I could sit through that. Plus the more freaked out I get, the more geeked out I get with an obsession for perfect linguistics. It might just push the tangent over board.

It's all good. Don't blog. Go for a walk.

Have you ever seen 'The Aviator'? It's got Leonardo De Caprio in it. He's an OCD aircraft inventor, and he goes all crazy with the compulsiveness and then eventually the obsession kicks in so much that he looses the ability to function socially for long lengths of time. I don't quite feel crazy to that extent, however; I do feel a little bit like a wired meth head right now. It's almost like that same grind, the pacing, the insanity, the nervousness, the heightened speed of thought, hyper aware of the surroundings and all the other parts that come along with. I've only been sleeping like 2 hours a night for about a week, not because I'm not tired, but because I just can't fuckin' relax. Sorry to be all weird and shit, but I think that some degree of interaction is keeping me distracted from the bouncing leg and fidgeting.

Have you tried cleaning??

Yes, everything is spotless... I'm only sorry I guess because I'm really not used of reaching out for a 'rock of solidarity'. Usually I am that rock for so many others, always being leaned on and never really needing to lean. Or at least that's what it seems like. It's more likely that I really should be leaning a little more then what I have been though. You know, just a little bit here and there, keeping me from flipping my lid so much.
My jaw hurts from clenching so much, I smell horrible from sweating so much. My hair is dirty and my clothes are gross. I've seen better days.

Have a shower. A cold one.

Is that what would help from mething out? Some people have described the two as a very similar experience. Maybe it is, I really don't know. All that I have to understand their mentality is being told that it can be the same over stimulated and under-stimulated parts of the brain that are effected in a similar manner. I think the hardest part in all of this is knowing that aside from medication, there is nothing that I can really do. It makes me feel like I'm actually a crazy person. Amanda was always able to sooth the embarrassment in reminding me that I'm not crazy, and that it's just an imbalance. I don't know if that actually makes me feel any more secure or not.

If this is similar to meth, I really can't understand why anyone would want this though. I feel it as a curse, not a blessing. And some people actually take Ritalin to get high... What the fuck is that?!?! I've taken it a couple times when I was a little kid, and I hated it. it kept me feeling so numb to the world, so bland to everything, over relaxed and lazy to the extent of being nothing but blank. I know that isn't what happens to a regular person, but I would rather be crazy then put under some kind of a chemical restraint.

All I know is that I need to keep myself distracted and keep my mind stimulated and challenged, occupied and not vacant. I need to keep the tangent to a minimum. Usually sleep deprivation helps as an alternative means to medication, however this time is a little more intense then the usual course of the temporary flair of loony bin insanity. I have to remember that this is nothing but a flair up, and not the way that it always is.
The idea is that hopefully through some kind of communicative means of mental release and vocalization, there should be the post effect of natural calming and relaxation. The one, of many things, that I refuse to pursue is medication, therefore, No Ritalin, No medication, No negotiations. Not only is altering my present state of mind completely against all of my personal morals and boundaries, I means that I would also have to go talk to a shrink about all my ‘issues’, their derivatives, my past, my present, my outlook on the future. It means that I would have to spend some lengthy amount of time on a lame ass couch sweating my hyper self-awareness out to a random doctor who would undoubtedly sit in his chair, ask probing questions, exclaim “Mmmmhmmmm” quite often, and ultimately offer no advice beyond a prescription pad and a pen.

I know that there will be change one day, but I don’t know if I could handle it when it gets here….



Joshua FACT
www.factandfiction.ca
NNP!