If there's one thing I hate, it's kids. They're noisy, insubordinate, and annoying as hell. When I was a kid, when you screamed, there was probably a reason behind it. Like being on fire. Or being eaten by a ravenous pack of dire wolves. Those are good times to scream. Not... "there's wind!" *blood-curdling shriek*

or "That tree is producing oxygen!"

actual reasons... What I find most annoying is I can't (being the adult I am) go out and scream and be just as idiotic as they are.


Biology is eating up my life. I spent the weekend working on two reports I had due, and had no time to work on my algebra homework. Now I can't remember how to do it, and I have class in an hour.



I'm considering redesigning this page to actually be useful. Right now it's basically an online diary that has little to no use to anyone including myself.


Drunken Ramblings

I wrote this when I was drunk. It makes absolutely no sense. It's an attempt to write a term paper.

the attempts of this paper are to delve into the mind of a man without, that is to say a man for which no home is welcome, no peace is stayes, and also which man is completely and utterly beside himself in excess of alchoholic consumption. Though it shall please the reader to know the individual who is writing this paper, is in fact, quite smashed, the purpose of which shall be contained within this lecture.



Today I sat and thought on what it means to have asperger's. That credence to the malady which has so wound it's destiny over my very existence. At first I had not thought of this, but in my seclusion, thoughts slowly drifted towards painful times in my past, times of shame and suffering. As I thought about it, I began to understand what the issues that I'm facing actually are. It allowed me introspection that I would not have thought possible without the shield of the name, and the understanding of what that name meant. As I thought and wondered, I asked myself questions about certain events, and replaced myself with a child. For all my understanding, some part of me is still young, and I do not believe certain parts of me can change. Though I resigned myself to understand that I am who I am, despite what the spectres of my past might say, I still feel on some level that I was wronged; though hate does not strongly flow through me. As such, I am wont to reveal too much on my blog. I have heard the stories and lamentations of those too bold with their words with persons unknown, and I have no such desire to open myself to be impaled in such a way. Still though, I want to share... well not fear so much anymore, but painful truth. It is painful because I can not put blame on another, using anger to shield myself from it. Nor can I look at myself and hate myself either, for it is not exactly my and mine which caused such strife. Nor is it society, where so often misunderstanding is the bane of innocence.

As I sit and watch the newscast, I see things here and there, and wonder. This judgement they have cast, was it right? If a child had stubbed his or her toe and cried, would they slap it? Why is so much pity cast on the weak and expectations set that all others are one? Is it right?

What is the truth that they see, that justifies their judgements? How far do they see the ripples that have been made by blowing on the water. I see it, because I know it. I know the torrent that can result of laughter made to a wall, with the vibrations echoing all about. But there is no connection for them. Or they simply deny responsibility as an oath of duty. This brings up so many thoughts and feelings, that I do not believe I have the space on this blog to acquit it with.


one-line wisdom

knowledge is the tool, wisdom is the method.


Time and Memory

I miss the rolling green of kentucky, even though we did not live in a remote area, still there was the sense that humans were merely attempting to control a wild thing. Here now it seems the opposite, where humans are attempting to create an illusion of wildness, but it is very obvious and bothers me. I cannot help, when I stand out to survey the place that I now live, the feeling of falsehood in the very ground where I stand. Maybe it is now that my room is so far from the ground that I feel disconnected, or simply my distaste for my current situation. I think, sometimes, when we are unhappy with our current place, that we seek the past. This is of course an illusion. In time we seek to remove those things in our memory which cause us displeasure, and replace them with things that brought us joy. Such is the mystery of time, and how we percieve it. Of course to hear the old men speak, it would seem that gold errupted from geysers in the earth, and courteousness and kindness were the theme of the day. I don't believe that there is such a thing as a simpler time. In truth, we change, and our perceptions change, but humans remain just that; human. We are subject to our own flaws and failings, and more often than not, slaves of emotion and memory. Adversity will always exist wherever we may be, but then again, so do we.