hundreds of millions of

subject: more ramblings-on
style: rambling-on
source: Do I really have to ?

In stead of a quote, you can try this video that approaches what I am saying.

It is hard being the minority, because even when you know you are right, and even when there are tens of millions of other sane, intelligent people who know you are right, you always have to wonder how there can be hundreds of millions of people who claim to know beyond all doubt that you are wrong.

I have realized that, being at a new place where nobody really knows me, people talk to me, and they let me talk to them. Knowing no better, they assume that I have something important to say and that I have a right to say it. They are unaware of my reputation; they are completely oblivious of who I really am. It is an amazing sensation. I suppose I should enjoy it while it lasts.

I keep wondering when I will finally stop saying I should do things and instead actually do them. Nothing is holding me back now but my self, my cryptic habits, and my inherent insanity.

I ask myself now when I will decide to figure out what is wrong with me, and whether I should try to fix it. I think I am afraid that, by clearing all the "undesirable" traits out of my system, I will at the same time be obliviating all the unique nuances that set me apart from all the normal, socially acceptable people.

Having watched the season premiere of House, I am appalled at the sort of thing the shrinks are trying to teach him, the ways they are trying to "help" him. This Nolan guy, he is telling House that he should stop being miserable and influential and start being happy and worthless. I for one would much prefer the former. He actually tells House he needs to go to this work party, and learn how to be just like everyone else, how to make small talk and be sociable and likeable and boring. The nerve ! The impudence !

God, how I hate people. And I hate how my natural impulse was to begin that statement with the word "god," and how somehow that necessarily refers to the unoriginally-named christian God, and how I still can't think of any other interjection in the whole of the English language (or any other language, for that matter) that I could use to begin that sentence and still convey the same emotion.

I have to stay away from people at all costs, because the sole thought that satisfies my conscience in view of the world is the knowledge that I am better than them, that I do not comply to these social constructs, the unmalleable standards of acceptability. Looking at how stupid people are, the only thought that keeps me sane is the knowledge that I am not a part of all this, that I am above it, except in the worst of times. If I somehow became like the rest of them, I would cry. You don't know me well enough to be reading this if you don't know how much that means.

I play an online game. One. And I contribute actively to its forum. Unbelievably, there are people on this forum I actually like. One in particular. She uses proper mechanics in her writing: she knows how to spell, how to speak, how to capitalize, without fail. Her grammar is impeccable. She is intelligent, talented, artistic, motivated, hard-working, tech-savvy. She gets it. She is intrigued by all the right things, all the most intriguing aspects of life. But I do not actually know her. On one hand, it inspires me to know that, somewhere out there, there really do exist persons who matter, to themselves and to others who matter. On the other, it depresses me that it is damn near impossible to actually meet one of them.

I might do some things. I shall try to write more. But for whom ? It is hard to write when there is nobody around to read it, and I do not have the genetic capacity to read it to anyone (as I would love to do, at a poetry jam, and as theoretically I would be very good at doing). It is hard to write for nobody but myself. It is depressing, and tedious, and melancholy. I already know what is going to happen at all times. Nevertheless, I shall try to write more. And soon I will talk at you about gender, I think. Sociology rules. Fcuk.

[finished five 'til midnight.]

[Next night edit :]

Series premiere of Flashforward. A few comments I would like to make.

1) This is going to make me constantly wonder to myself, "what would happen if I fell unconscious at this very moment ?" It sort of makes you second-guess your decisions at all times. The game.

2) I really hope they don't try to portray that guy-who-stayed-conscious as necessarily evil, and start accusing him (or her ?) as having caused the whole thing. I can totally see them trying to pull that off. Just the fact that he wasn't affected, that he stayed awake, does not mean he perpetrated the affair. It could mean simply that he is somehow immune to the phenomenon, genetically or psychologically. In fact, this is much more likely. Because if it affected the whole world, how could it not have touched one guy who was standing right out there in the open ? Damn, the poor guy must have been freaked out of his wits.

3) Please don't make this a religious ordeal. FOX, I will stop trusting you altogether if you have one more character say this was Mr. God's doing. Good ol' God.

4) On a similar note, it depresses me that when someone looks up at the sky, you instantly assume they are looking toward God and his Heaven and whatnot. Even the nonreligious people do it; it is always my first impression; it has been deeply and heavily socialized into our brains. When someone looks up at the sky, we should instantly think they are pondering the vastness of the universe, or marveling at the intricacies of the night sky, or considering the expansive beauty of the cosmic design. Not Mr. God's plan. Good ol' God.