swim little fishies, swim, swim!
it’s odd, isn’t it, how different people crave or abhor attention.
there’s some (well, most, actually) who want it. they almost need it, to the point where they’re actively crying out, demanding it from others in their own special way:
- “read my journal/blog/story/poem/article, please, I beg of you, I need to be understood“
- “listen to me whine about my day, it’s been such a craptastic one, because somehow it will make be feel better”
- “look at me, look at what I’ve done, look at what I’ve made, help me further my goal to be noticed by the world”
of course, i really don’t think anyone’s ever actually said that…that would be really pushing the limits of needy and annoying beyond the highest reaches of anything humanely possible. *shudder*
there’s those who hide themselves away from the world, only leave the home for sanitary or survival reasons, grow their hair out to hide their face, never say a word when there’s more than two people who aren’t their closest friends or immediate family around, etc… well, to be fair, those people usually eventually get landed with a file with their name on it with a giant “mentally unstable” stamp and a prescription for happy pills, so they really don’t lend much stock to any argument that’s about “normal people”.
and me, where do I stand? Ah yes, poor little me, who has a blog that pretty much no one reads, who rarely speaks when not spoken to, blah blah blah. when I look at this blog’s stats and see that “someone” has looked at it recently, do I actually get excited that someone had noticed me? or is that rapid beat in my chest really the feeling of loss of freedom to write whatever I damn well please because no one would read it anyway? but if I really wanted to just write whatever I wanted without being judged, would I not just keep it to myself, locked away in a solitary .docx file on my hard drive, and not on the internet? am I just desperately trying to convince myself that I’m not really an attention-whore like all the rest of the “pathetic” and “needy” and “annoying” people out there? am I, in cold harsh reality, just forcing myself into this little shell that my innermost self really doesn’t want to be in, which is subsequently making myself even more miserable by bottling it allllll up?
bleh.
then again, it’s the attention whores that get places, isn’t it? it’s those who post their creative writings everywhere who get noticed by the suits, and get published. it’s those who apply over, and over, and over again for a spot in a showcase or gallery whose art gets purchased by randoms who “just like the colour”. it’s those who break into Prince’s house with a demo CD who eventually get recorded. it’s those who shove their resumes and headshots under every door in the city who get hired. it’s those who kiss up to the boss and brag about every single little accomplishment who get promoted. you won’t get published, won’t get cast, won’t get hired, won’t get noticed if you just sulk in the soda shop day in, day out, wistfully looking out the window and wondering if a famous agent will walk in an notice you on a fluke.
success doesn’t come to you, you’ve got to go to it.
but how much before it’s too much? sure, by not talking about your band to anyone who’ll listen, you might miss out on some key opportunities and connections. then again, when do you get to the point that you’re missing out on connections anyway because you talk about your band so much that everyone’s stopped listening and fails to notice when you do something really special? aye, there’s the rub.
it’s all luck isn’t it? it’s all just luck, and charisma, and money, and blackmail, and sheer nature-vs-nurture-given talent. that’s it, isn’t it? it’s the difference between Stephenie Meyer and Cassandra Clare and Cecily Von Ziegesar and the lady who sits at home basically spitting out fantasy-fulfillment-based novels. it’s the difference between Ayn Rynd and Kierkegaard and Hitler (Mein Kampf-era) and that weird kid who sits at the back of the Poli-Sci classroom muttering to himself, scribbling into notebooks and always spouting off obnoxiously unnecessary observations. it’s the difference between Annie Leibovitz and Ansel Adams and that guy with the chunky glasses who seems permanently fused to his Canon Rebel XS. it’s the difference between the girls in the American Apparel ads and Miley Cyrus and Paris Hilton and the girls who post so many pictures of themselves on facebook it’s astounding the server hasn’t crashed yet.
it’s a really depressing world we live in, isn’t it?
Genius Thought of the Day
My philosophy: Maybe if I keep on swearing at it, it’ll just go away.
Right now?
It’s 2:30 in the morning, and I can’t sleep.
What am I thinking?
“He’s the Edward Cullen to my puke”, that’s what I’m bloody well thinking.
Clean the fishtank
there’s so many things we could say, and all together too many things we do say
there’s a sense of debate here, a moral one, about rights
of course, all are entitled to say what they wish
and i suppose, in conjunction, they’re allowed to be heard
but what of the listeners?
do they have a right to not hear what they don’t need?
do they have a right to silence, and peace?
does some poor, weary soul’s desire for their partner to “just shut up and leave me alone” infringe on the speaker’s right to be heard?
does the peace-seeker deserve guilt for refusing to hear what others have to say?
or does the speaker deserve admonishment for infringing on the listener’s right to fulfill his desire for silence?
or is this all just nonsense, and I am to feel guilty for presenting this text into a world that doesn’t need it?
Examination Instructions for Students:
Skip.
Ditch.
Flee.
Of course, I speak only in the longing and hypothetical manner of the wanna-be rebel. After all…skipping my exams?! *Gasp*…what would my mother say…
But really, why do we even have these stupid things in high school? (Uni exams, I’m told, are a totally different affair) Why force students at the end of the year to do no more than re-learn everything they’ve already forgotten?
By now, I’m sure even the most out-of-the-loop adult has caught on; teens are a bunch of slackers and idiots. In this lifetime, nothing short of food, money, or material goods will motivate us, least of all the presence of a massive test spanning the entire course looming at the end of every semester. What, is this enough to convince us that, as well as pursuing extra-curriculars, maintaining decent grades in all classes, and maybe keeping up a social life, we’re supposed to keep up a constant routine of reviewing not just new course material, oh no, but all the crapola we’ve learned previously? Ummm…no
Are they supposed to make sure that we’ve actually mastered the concepts taught to us over 5 months? If so, then what is the point of all the regular tests during the actual semester?
Are they either a final check to ensure that the students receive a passing grade only when deserved, or a last-ditch attempt to pull up marks? Either way, it’s a total failure. If you actually take the time to examine the math, 30% isn’t going to do much to any final grade, unless the student is already precariously teetering at the brink of failure (this applies even more strongly for those courses where the 30% is split between the exam and an ISU, therefore causing the exam to be worth only a measly 15%).
Though, administrators of school boards everywhere, if you happen to be reading this, I take into account that the present system is what it “best” for us, I’m sure, and in no way do I present a challenge to effect any changes such as, say, making exams worth half of the final mark, or anything. Just commenting on what seems like futility from my POV…
So, to encapsulate…why? Because honestly, there is precious little worse than going over an entire semester’s worth of Physics, Biology, Calculus and Vectors in less than a week.
Hmm…mayhaps there is a conspiracy afoot? Yes, that’s it! As is plain to all, teenagers are clearly the bane of all existence. So why not get rid of them once and for all? Simply assign them all a task so tedious and arduous that the only result will be the mass head-desking of a large majority, thus resulting in at least half of them dead, or at least rendered brain-dead, and the world will be rid of them forever!
Ah, you see, but this fiendish plot shall not work! Teenagers, now hear this! Screw exams, toss your textbooks up in the air, and go frolic in the wheat fields!
Or, at least, you guys can go do that…I still have some studying to do if I want to avoid death by furious mother…
It’s 12:30 in the morning…and I’m hyperventilating
Okay, so this here’s been a pretty deserted corner of the internet for a looong time…I mean, I’ve been typing crap on here on a semi-regular basis, for at least half a year (whew, that’s a LONG time!), and there’s never been more than 12 views in a single day, every blue moon or so, and that’s just because I posted it onto a website that cycles randomly through blogs, just for kicks. For Christ’s sake, I’ve even only ever mentioned this place to my friends in passing when explaining how I got a free shirt from Threadless (which is why I happen to be advertising to RetailMeNot.com to the right there)! I’ve pretty much become accustomed to the near-isolation, the freedom to write whatever I want without being judged, to goof off, change styles, experiment, all in, pretty much, the isolation of my own soul (see here)
But just now, I popped into my stats out of boredom, to find that I’ve somehow amassed 28 views in a day? And really, considering that it doesn’t add up to what the detailed statement says (only accounts for about 11 of ‘em), I’ve gotta believe that WordPress is glitching in some way…right? It’s all just a massive mistake! Or…is it maybe possible that people actually care what I have to say? Oh my… *sniff*
I’d like to thank my parents, and my mentors…
Right, back to reality.
So anyway, I’m getting freaked out by this semi-massive spike (which it really is, if you look at the graphical representation of the past few days), since what’s accompanying it…is…nothing! Not that I’m complaining (I mean, pageviews themselves are supposed to be a good thing, right?), but 28 (alleged) views, a count that doesn’t add up, and no comments, no mentions on my deviantart…nothing to explain who, or what, is responsible for this sudden spike in pageviews!
And I would like to stress, I am, in no way, demanding comments like a spoiled little princess. Simply, I would like an explanation. I would like to ask…if you are reading this, how in h**l’s name did you manage to get here? Why? And, *ahem* what do you think?
Je parle plusieurs langues – m’aimez!
Why do we find foreign languages, nay, foreignity, so romantic?
Some of my facebook friends plop french phrases into their status updates and poems on a semi-regular basis. Notably, the ones who seem to be cultivating a rep as “artsy”, and the ones who *ahem* I believe have chosen to not take french classes in school past the point where it was obligatory…
I’ve noticed that one of my MSN contacts (you know, the ones you have, but never talk to…or is that just me?) has a small string of Asian characters in his screen name, but from what I know about him, I would have given him a 1 in 20 chance of actually knowing an Asian language (but if he’s actually interested in learning, then kudos!).
My friends who have taken Spanish frequently burst randomly into it, like an inside joke, just one spanning their entire knowledge of a language. Oh, and one of them also incorporates her “expertise” of French and Italian in there too.
I’ve heard (though not actually experienced) that some “more serious” anime fans disparage of the silly “fan-girls” who frequently squeal in Japanese whatever four words they’ve picked up from Sailor Moon and Pokemon (watched only for the cuteness of the critters, of course…).
But why? Showing off knowledge of another language in this for is certainly not about utility, not when this so-called “knowledge” is only limited to a few characters and phrases. In fact, limited language has almost become a culture in itself, the way these teens around me are using it.
And a very limited knowledge it is! No matter what the language, or who the speaker, I seem to be catching only the same snatches over and over again. Really, they are inside jokes…used for a reaction, used for praise, used so that every time they appear, the speakers and those privy to the humour can giggle together. See, but that’s the thing…those snatches of other languages, those mouths forming themselves into the same foreign shapes over and over until they’re no longer foreign, are only the tip of the iceberg, and yet they’re left at that. As long as they know what a word or two means, they’re good, they know enough to show off, and there’s no more need to learn.
Sure, the romanticism of foreign cultures is no stranger to the world; kimono-inspired shirts, pinatas, and various foods have all been introduced to my little western corner of the world, amongst other things. But think about it; how many times have you swung at a paper-mache figure at a party, or smirked briefly over that fact that it was the fifth of may, and you were eating salsa, and simply left it at that? How many times have you done anything directly associated with another culture, and felt proud, worldly, and cultured, despite the briefness of your “plunging into another world”?
Construe it one way, and one could almost interpret those proud flashes, those brief giggles, an insult to the culture itself. That those people feel that kimonos, geisha (who are not prostitutes!), cherry blossoms, and “sugoi-ne!” are all that need to be explored of Japanese culture before being entitled to that feeling of satisfaction. And why not, exactly? The Japanese are a people with a vast and interesting culture, or are these pinky-dippers just too lazy?
Furthermore, it’s not even that useful, the what these people know. Pray tell, what’s the use of knowing how to say “love does not last forever” in French, like, ever? Sure, maybe I pretty much only know how to express my name and ask where the bathroom is in Spanish (a fact which I’m not proud of), but at least I can be proud that should I ever find myself unexpectedly in Spain, I will never have an overly full bladder.
So, then, why? Do other cultures find themselves as enraptured and captivated by a limited knowledge of the American Way? Why encourage that stems from laziness and self-importance, and ends in other people’s annoyance? On the other hand, do these other people even have a right to be annoyed, for are the pinky-dippers, in reality, more intelligent and worldly?
Mwahaha…
♪ Nooooboody’s reading this, nobody’s reading this! ♪
Ahh, my own private corner of the universe…how calming. How reassuring. How very, very nice.
I mean, I can totally write things like “My stomach just gurgled!”, or claim that I wrote the entire screenplay for Slumdog Millionaire and no one would care! (Although I probably shouldn’t, in case this comes up as evidence in court someday…)
Sweeeet…
I wanna shout!
See, these days, I’ve been on a kick, entitled the “I-hate-annoying-attention-seekers kick”.
You know the type…every sentence out of their mouth is “Guess what I did?”, “You know what really annoys me?”, “I hate/love my…”, etc. The new creeper-style Facebook is always updating itself with status changes, every photo tagged with their picture immediately gets commented with “OMG, look at me! I’m so…”. The ones that make you listen to every new song on their iPod, and complain loudly when the songs being played anywhere else are not to their liking.
Truth is, they’re everywhere, especially in this new age of Twittering, blogging, and Facebook-ing, and especially since I am a teenager, who hangs out with other teenagers. And really, who am I to complain about them? Heck, the fact that I’m even typing this shows quite plainly that I am one.
But it bugs me how much the desire to attract attention runs our lives. We buy and wear shiny new clothes (brand names optional), post our creations and innermost thoughts on the internet, audition for reality shows, all chasing that subconscious desire that someone out there will notice you, want to know you, and be interested in everything you are. In fact, in some people, I could swear that I’m even starting to see them only as pathetic soul walking around with giant “WATCH ME!” sandwich boards.
Which is precicely why I am terrified of becoming one of “them” (I know, us-vs-them mentality, not good, yada yada yada). I’m so terrified that on my way to school one day in a new outfit, I was considering to myself that I only wore that thing to get compliments, and that I was in massive denial when I tried to assure myself that I didn’t.
See?! I just told the internet something that nobody probably cares about! Ugh. I want so desperately to post idiosyncrasies in my Facebook status, post notes detailing anything about my day that I remember, force my musical tastes on the world However, if I do, I know very well that I will complete my transformation into one of them.
But, nonetheless, I can find solace that I update this blog so rarely with stuff of no interest to anyone else that no one reads it. I mean, occasionally, I get one or two page views, but barring that, that means that nobody’s reading this! I am can say whatever the heck I want! Hahahahaha! Plus, knowing that nobody reads this, I can delude myself into thinking that I’m not doing this as a cry for attention. Yay~!
So, I can do what I want to do, say what I want to say, and as long as I don’t infringe on any rights, I’m in the clear! I will post my worthless, pointless thoughts, all on this here blog, safe in my cocoon of knowledge that I can get it out of my system, and not become another drooling, raving, desperate-for-attention zombie.
Cheers!
