Reality

I'm not truly a person to care about many things. I'd like to start this off with my foolish advice. There are many people in the world that choose to basically kill themselves than face reality. For example, this woman told me a story as I sat across for her, waiting for a few friends. I chose to express my thoughts in a monosylabic expression of interest. I used words like "Oh," "Yeah," and "Man." I shouldn't call it apathy as much. I would call it not really giving a shit by a non-verbal display of sincerity. Everyone passed by as she told me her story. Everyone paced until they realised how stupid her stories were. Stupi is a general term. In actuallity, her stories were dull manefistations of what she believed was happening to her. Her child was deathly ill, her boyfriend supposedly had the hots for a freshman, and she was going to drop out of the same school for a second time. God, how I hate my mornings.

Most people would give her advice. I'd hit her with my car. I'd start my car, back it up far enough to gain a high-speed rate, and floor it. That's how I'd treat depression. I want to offer a service, nearly free of charge. A client would call me and tell me their problem and location. I'd drive my car to where they were, and commit intentional vehicular manslaughter; we could call it "treatment." Obviously they would pay for my gas. She would pay me extra because of the emotional involvement. It's like a doctor performing surgery on a patient they had to listen to as they complained about their normal life situations.

She starts telling me how her baby is a few pounds overweight. She's seven-months pregnant, she drinks, she smokes; she's lucky her baby won't come out looking like a genetic mutant. Oprah would have a field day. "There is talk of a movie coming out this June. The summer's first smash hit. It is called My Baby, The Alien." I know the title is a little less than intriguing, but the tabloids would eat it up. Christina Ricci would be perfect for the role; she looks like a badger, too.

Yay! Very good Daryan! ^ ^ I liked it alot. I'm clapping just so you know...well I will be as soon as I finish typing this messege...which will be right about....NOW! ^ ^

this is a question for me and my friends sitting next to me
how much for this treatment?

It's just in the story. I'm not being serious.


These are my thoughts. This is how I see the world. This is how I get when I'm pissed off. I really want her to shut-up. If she was truly how I wanted her to be; the gross overstatement of her flaws would interest me. This is how I become 'friends' with people. This is how I keep myself sitting through hours of grueling disinterest. This is how I keep myself from becoming the next Seung-Hui Cho or George Jo Hennard. I smile, nod, and wash away my personality. Due to everyone else's actions, I must be a kind enough human to actually listen.

As I sit listening, I pick apart what she says: Every enunciation, every concept, and every annoying blurb. It's easier to listen to bullshit when you're secretly making fun of it. "Chris keeps telling me to tell the doctor what's wrong with the baby, but I don't know what's wrong with the baby. I keep getting sick and then I have to deal with my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. She keeps telling everyone that I'm a terrible mother and she doesn't know nothing." Each shittly spoken sentence makes me cringe. You can't correct people anymore. They think you're an asshole. They're probably right.

Twenty minutes later, I realize I haven't listened to one thing she has said. I remember that my cell phone has a record feature. I'm recording this nonsense. I want someone to hear her and understand the blah blah blah in her voice. I'll send it to some random person. Screw it. I'll send it to everyone on my phone. I'll get her picture and text under it, "What the hell is she saying? All opinions are welcome."

She's still talking to me. She has all of these problems because instead of solving them, she sits on a bench and tells random people how much her life sucks. These are problems that can be solved, although she has the reasoning skills of a pigeon. Eat, annoy, eat, have babies, aand eat--All she needs is a pair of wings. All I need is a loaf of bread. I could toss the bread at her feet and pray she doesn't invite her friends.

Thank God. She walked away in the middle of her sentence. I think. Actually, she waddled, the big, stupid goose. Once again, I'm alone on the bench. Maybe I'll just stand up, wait for a car, and just jump in front of it. That sounds pretty cool. "Man hit by vehicle in front of school, misses class." I could go to class. Maybe I'll think of something to do today. I walk in to our semi-average school and wait. I say semi-average because it doubles as a conveinience store. There's a Pharmacy/Conveinience store located right across the street. What fun it is trying to get out.

*Is sitting on a chair listening to him tell the story*
And then what and then what! ^ ^
Please continue! :kawaii:

keep going!

I am now five minutes late to my computer class. It is my second of three computer classes today. I hate being in these classes. But, I'm here. What the hell is an electronic database? What the hell is a query-wizard? What the hell am I doing here? I want to become a store manager. That's what I would say if a reporter came to our school. I'll tell you what they don't put in articles. They don't put the fact that 75% of community college students were once addicts, psychiatric hospital patients, and your basic run-on-the-mill loser. They put down the pipe one day and said, "I want to be successful." This isn't what we see in billboards, television, commercials, and brochures. They don't show the truth behind education. They also fail to mention the lack of assistance they will provide when you are in need of help.

I need a paper that I've seen too many times in my lifetime. "Your Name Here has completed the required number of course hours and attained the required number of course credits and has attained Your Degree Here. Signature of Scholastic Director. Date. A sticker of a moose giving thumbs up." I always liked the word "proficient." I would be given papers in elementary school with stickers and an "above-proficient" level grade. The ego-boost made me feel great. The problem is I expected the same smiley-faced grading system in high school. What a big rim-job that became. High school grading systems were opinion based. Buy your teacher something, give tem a back rub, and laugh when they tell a joke. I'm terrible at this. I gave my teacher a chocolate bar that had almonds in it because I wanted a better grade on my literature final. She had an allergic reaction, went into anaphylactic shock, and gave me a high D on my paper. At least it had a plus on it. It was her fault, she knew there were almonds in it, and I had no idea she was allergic. She was really allergic. About two months in the hospital allergic. She still managed to finish grading my paper in the hospital, though.

wow more!!

*Frowns still sitting in the chair*
That's a mean teacher...
*Smiles*
Pwease continue! ^ ^

I believe that Bipolar Disorder is too easily diagnosed anymore. With almost six million adults being affected by it--what the hell happened to self control. In reality it seems that everyone in the universe has forms of Bipolar Disorder; this includes animals, plants, and aliens. I have been around a plethora of people claiming having this disorder. I'm not saying they don't. Actually, I am saying they don't. They have no idea what they have. If you feel something is different in yourself, grasp the concept of factors. Different situations cause different moods in everybody. You feel happy. You feel sad. You want to punch that guy who called you gay for no reason. The thing with having a mood disorder is not that you simply think these situations out; you run a collection of disturbing images, terrible thoughts, hateful feelings, grateful feelings, joyful thoughts, euphoria, beautiful ideas, and love all at the same time. What you hate, you love three seconds later.

An example of this feeling:

You meet a person, introduce yourself, and have a conversation equal to that of any Tarantino film.

While speaking, you are killing this person in your head.

You are thinking about marrying this person, having kids, and dying in their arms.

You cannot stop thinking about how Matt Leblanc hasn't been in any good shows lately.

Think about the number of different disorders that could be associated with these feelings. They seem psychotic, but there is a difference. The thoughts are uncontrollable, but the related actions are controlled.

(It's a good thing I'm not really 5 years old. Because if I was then I wouldn't have understood all those big words! Lol ^ ^)

*Starts bouncing up and down*
More more! ^ ^ Nami likes! ^ ^

more more!!

It's unfortunate how many people begin crimes. I want to become a District Attorney, better known as a Prosecution Attorney. I want to prove how many people commit crimes. I want to prove how some that were set up get an acquital, as the true person who commited terrible crimes rot in prison. I don't care what most people think. Rules are basically Elementary-based Law.

(Sorry it was shorter than expected. ><)

^ ^ Yay! you know my uncle is a district attourny...he says it's a complicated job at times....> . >
Anyways~ WRITE MORE! ^ ^

more more more

> . > Hey he stopped writing more...maybe...we sacared him away... TT . TT Nami wants more story...!

i guess were scary XD or maybe it's just you >.> XP

Eff off Kaito!

(How dare you spam my topic... XD)

The most amusing thing to me is that people can do so much for someone and a high percentage of the chance is that they'll only get a thank you. But today, I rarely hear those two simple words. Why can't you just say it? It's only two words. People can be very ungrateful. I try to do things for people, but I only recieve a thank you from three people. That is from my two greatest friends, and a girl who is very polite. Those are the only people in my school I wish to help nowadays. Teachers would also be included, but they rarely ask for my help.
It's truly amazing that some people choose death instead of trying to solve problems. I don't approve of suicide, it's too clichè anymore. People have been shooting themselves lately. I know what it states in the Second Amendment, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't say anything about the right to bear arms against yourself.

(Short chapter, I know.)