If history repeats itself then someone else has already been sitting in a big leather chair, feet propped up on the bed with the tunes of CCR and Boston playing on the stereo, reading through the vast number of blogs available on the internet. All while watching the time tick slowly by. The pillow looking rather inviting, though no sleep was had. Visions of delta, epsilon, and integrals spread like wildfire in the dry forest of a brain, slightly fogged either by the smoke or the lack of sleep. The calculus book propped open by the notebook of knowledge soon to be forgotten. So many notebooks have come and gone. So many of them gone unnoticed, and unmentioned. Though once containing information of the utmost importance, now forced to a life of decomposing solitude. With any luck, given a new life, given a second chance, the joy of renewal.
The neverending drone of a fan and the glow of the flourescent lights giving the false sense of sun and a warm yet cool breeze. A long yawn returns the wandering mind to reality, only to be distracted by a new thought and a possible solution. So many circuits with the potential to entertain, lie silent themselves. The nervous excitement building ever so rapidly. The climax to come in only hours. The euphoric rush of a deadline. Blood pumping, heart rate increasing, the groggy mind constantly scheduling and planning. The allotment for sleep growing ever smaller. The rest of their world lies fast asleep.
Living a life from the third person perspective is an intriguing point of view. Take video games as an example. The lights and sounds combine to show a potential target and the crosshairs of a sight. This is the first person perspective. If turned to third would that make it seem less personal? Would that make the killing more ideal in the mind of the FCC?? Would saying that HE shot them make it all better?? or would they just realize that HE is in fact I?
When I was 14 we got a hamster. It's name was Buckwheat, to pay tribute to the hamster of Mrs. Phillips 6th grade class. The excitement had to be building for some time, then the day finally arrived. To the pet store we scurried in search of a new friend and a new form of entertainment. Playing God with the life of a seemingly insignificant rodent. The plans to take the best of care, to have the rodent that lives forever! Such high hopes you have when you're younger. Though one decision would prove to be fatal, but for who is yet to be determined. The Pet store was riddled with hamsters in all shapes and sizes, though I must say, most were indubitably hamster shaped. The color is essentially the only decision to make, this is so much like our society to base a decision solely on outward appearance isn't it? Though you may be thinking it, that is not the decision that would prove fatal, no, not at all. Prying throught the former confines of our soon to be liberated furry friend, we stumbled upon the most amazing of things. A book. Everything you would ever want to know about your furry friend, summed up into 40 pages. Imagine a book written about humans including emotion summed up into 40 pages. The thought of it makes me chuckle, to think that something could be happy living in a plastic box, being told when to eat, sleep and drink. Oh the joy of running endlessly on a wheel rotating upon an axis and going absolutely nowhere. Though I must admit that at times I wish I were in that position. The lack of intelligence is no issue, the idea of emotion limited solely to survival instincts. Everything we needed was purchased with a dog sniffing us. The hamster bible, the expensive cedar bedding, the food, the cage, everything you could possibly need to recreate whatever is a hamsters natural habitat. Perhaps evolution has created hamsters to have such a one track mind that they have no issues with running essentially on a treadmill for lengths of time for entertainment. Maybe they just feel fat. Maybe the hamster society really is more like a mini America. It's a melting pot based on color scheme. The decision to get the cedar bedding versus getting the cheaper pine bedding was a simply one. The cedar was more expensive, smelled better, and therefore must be superior to the pine bedding. Incidentally this was the fatal decision. As it turns out, some small rodents are highly allergic to the chemicals that are put onto the "natural" cedar bedding to make it smell so good. This is a little note that should probably be publicised somewhere. Much like the warning "may cause eye irritation" that I hope is displayed on the side of a can of mace. Well, as the story goes, Buckwheat, as I diagnosed it, got an upper respiratory infection and essentially suffocated. After the burial ceremony under the big lilac bush in the back yard, the flowers just seemed to smell better that year. Even a bit like cedar if you ask me.
Since I wrote the line about he mace, I've been thinking. Maybe my big break in life can be developing a new kind of mace, there must be some sort of monopoly on that stuff. I mean honestly how many companies can actually manufacture liquid pepper. And why is the definition of mace: A trademark used for an aerosol used to immobilize an attacker temporarily. Why can't it be used to immobilize a friend?? Does it only work on people who are attacking you?? Back to my big break in life, I think I'll make an aerosol habanero spray. For those of you who don't know anything about peppers, especially habanero's. Go to your local grocery store and check them out in the produce section, make sure you try one as you would a grape or a strawberry. Just bite right in, they're delicious. I could advertise as it being "more effective than the leading pepper spray". I would probably have to work on the wording of that a bit, since it technically would be a pepper spray. But I digress.
I started writing 45 minutes ago with the hopes to come across with a more intelligent and subtle humor. I don't think I've succeded in doing that, however, I do have a sudden urge to see how much pepper spray actually hurts.
I think of things like that a fair amount. Such as, when I was at work, I don't remember what we were talking about, but it included the idea that the person I was talking to wouldn't do something even if we held a gun to their head, they said we'd have to shoot them. I thought for a moment, not too long though. The only response I had, which is pretty typical for me, was "we may have to set that up some time." Well, my job here is done, I've successfully wasted a good portion of your day, and that makes me happy. Hopefully this will tide you demading people over for a while.
So I guess all I'm trying to say here is. If I can find the person who was already in this situation, maybe they can take the calc final for me. If that confuses you, refer back to the very first sentence. Well, I'm out, at 3:53 am this is Ryan signing off...
Have a nice summer!
The neverending drone of a fan and the glow of the flourescent lights giving the false sense of sun and a warm yet cool breeze. A long yawn returns the wandering mind to reality, only to be distracted by a new thought and a possible solution. So many circuits with the potential to entertain, lie silent themselves. The nervous excitement building ever so rapidly. The climax to come in only hours. The euphoric rush of a deadline. Blood pumping, heart rate increasing, the groggy mind constantly scheduling and planning. The allotment for sleep growing ever smaller. The rest of their world lies fast asleep.
Living a life from the third person perspective is an intriguing point of view. Take video games as an example. The lights and sounds combine to show a potential target and the crosshairs of a sight. This is the first person perspective. If turned to third would that make it seem less personal? Would that make the killing more ideal in the mind of the FCC?? Would saying that HE shot them make it all better?? or would they just realize that HE is in fact I?
When I was 14 we got a hamster. It's name was Buckwheat, to pay tribute to the hamster of Mrs. Phillips 6th grade class. The excitement had to be building for some time, then the day finally arrived. To the pet store we scurried in search of a new friend and a new form of entertainment. Playing God with the life of a seemingly insignificant rodent. The plans to take the best of care, to have the rodent that lives forever! Such high hopes you have when you're younger. Though one decision would prove to be fatal, but for who is yet to be determined. The Pet store was riddled with hamsters in all shapes and sizes, though I must say, most were indubitably hamster shaped. The color is essentially the only decision to make, this is so much like our society to base a decision solely on outward appearance isn't it? Though you may be thinking it, that is not the decision that would prove fatal, no, not at all. Prying throught the former confines of our soon to be liberated furry friend, we stumbled upon the most amazing of things. A book. Everything you would ever want to know about your furry friend, summed up into 40 pages. Imagine a book written about humans including emotion summed up into 40 pages. The thought of it makes me chuckle, to think that something could be happy living in a plastic box, being told when to eat, sleep and drink. Oh the joy of running endlessly on a wheel rotating upon an axis and going absolutely nowhere. Though I must admit that at times I wish I were in that position. The lack of intelligence is no issue, the idea of emotion limited solely to survival instincts. Everything we needed was purchased with a dog sniffing us. The hamster bible, the expensive cedar bedding, the food, the cage, everything you could possibly need to recreate whatever is a hamsters natural habitat. Perhaps evolution has created hamsters to have such a one track mind that they have no issues with running essentially on a treadmill for lengths of time for entertainment. Maybe they just feel fat. Maybe the hamster society really is more like a mini America. It's a melting pot based on color scheme. The decision to get the cedar bedding versus getting the cheaper pine bedding was a simply one. The cedar was more expensive, smelled better, and therefore must be superior to the pine bedding. Incidentally this was the fatal decision. As it turns out, some small rodents are highly allergic to the chemicals that are put onto the "natural" cedar bedding to make it smell so good. This is a little note that should probably be publicised somewhere. Much like the warning "may cause eye irritation" that I hope is displayed on the side of a can of mace. Well, as the story goes, Buckwheat, as I diagnosed it, got an upper respiratory infection and essentially suffocated. After the burial ceremony under the big lilac bush in the back yard, the flowers just seemed to smell better that year. Even a bit like cedar if you ask me.
Since I wrote the line about he mace, I've been thinking. Maybe my big break in life can be developing a new kind of mace, there must be some sort of monopoly on that stuff. I mean honestly how many companies can actually manufacture liquid pepper. And why is the definition of mace: A trademark used for an aerosol used to immobilize an attacker temporarily. Why can't it be used to immobilize a friend?? Does it only work on people who are attacking you?? Back to my big break in life, I think I'll make an aerosol habanero spray. For those of you who don't know anything about peppers, especially habanero's. Go to your local grocery store and check them out in the produce section, make sure you try one as you would a grape or a strawberry. Just bite right in, they're delicious. I could advertise as it being "more effective than the leading pepper spray". I would probably have to work on the wording of that a bit, since it technically would be a pepper spray. But I digress.
I started writing 45 minutes ago with the hopes to come across with a more intelligent and subtle humor. I don't think I've succeded in doing that, however, I do have a sudden urge to see how much pepper spray actually hurts.
I think of things like that a fair amount. Such as, when I was at work, I don't remember what we were talking about, but it included the idea that the person I was talking to wouldn't do something even if we held a gun to their head, they said we'd have to shoot them. I thought for a moment, not too long though. The only response I had, which is pretty typical for me, was "we may have to set that up some time." Well, my job here is done, I've successfully wasted a good portion of your day, and that makes me happy. Hopefully this will tide you demading people over for a while.
So I guess all I'm trying to say here is. If I can find the person who was already in this situation, maybe they can take the calc final for me. If that confuses you, refer back to the very first sentence. Well, I'm out, at 3:53 am this is Ryan signing off...
Have a nice summer!
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