| Done. |
[16 May 2006|08:54am] |
http://its-ephemeral.livejournal.com/
I'm done with Untrust. I won't delete it, because there is definitely some funny stuff here. The url above is my new journal. I may have added you already by the time you read this, but if not, just leave a comment and I'll be sure to.
|
|
| R2D2 |
[17 Jan 2006|11:48am] |
|
Beeeep, whirrrr.
|
|
| Silver Lining. |
[01 Dec 2005|02:26pm] |
"But we were born of risen apes, not fallen angels, and the apes were armed killers besides. And so what shall we wonder at? Our murders and massacres and missiles, and our irreconcilable regiments? Or our treaties whatever they may be worth; our symphonies however seldom they may be played; our peaceful acres, however frequently they may be converted into battlefields; our dreams however rarely they may be accomplished. The miracle of man is not how far he has sunk but how magnificently he has risen. We are known among the stars by our poems, not our corpses." -- Robert Ardrey
Possibly the most compelling passage I've ever read!
|
|
| At work. |
[25 Nov 2005|09:04pm] |
There's really nothing to say right now except that I let the most trivial things get to me.
It doesn't help that everyones' livejournal entries are dark/moody/depressing lately.
The fuck is wrong with you people?
|
|
| The Forgetting Curve. |
[16 Nov 2005|09:42pm] |
There was a researcher named Dr. Ebbinghaus who constructed a diagram which basically showed that once the human brain absorbed so much knowledge it would eventually start annexing old knowledge that was the least frequently used. The rate at which old knowledge was disposed of was directly dependant on the rate in which you receive new knowledge. The diagram was in the form of a wave, and he called it the "forgetting curve".
This curve scares me because I know exactly what he's talking about. And from this very curve stems my indecisive nature. If I begin to forget certain literary devices, or my vocabulary diminishes, I start hitting the books again. Then I forget my practical fireground procedures and emergency medical procedures, so I hang around work more often or I study my old EMS notes. Then I long to play FFXI so I binge on it for a while. Then I forget what a nicely mixed Jack and Coke tastes like so I hit the bar 5 out of 7 nights.
But I'm not angsting over my inconsistancy. It's the only thing consistant about me! I'm just mulling over the inefficiency of a mental hard drive. It seems like the only way to remember anything important and that which is vital to you, is to repeat it over and over, or incorporate it in every aspect of your life. Mention it when it isn't even necessary. The downside is that while you're homing in on the importance of said fragment of knowledge, you're theoretically forgetting something else. I've been at work after a bad call or at home after reading a book and wanting to make a journal entry so bad, but then I get preoccupied with something else and I totally lose my muse to write at all.
So the next time someone asks me why I'm not a professional writer by now, I'll just shake my head and say, "The Forgetting Curve."
|
|
| Vocabulary words. |
[26 Oct 2005|09:32pm] |
I'm not sure whether I should feel sad or disdainful that my messages to random strangers on myspace are often ignored. I lay in bed at night sometimes and try to envision myself rendered in third person. When I do this, I always establish that I am a dork. It is not unfounded, then, that people often neglect to reply to my incredibly dorky messages on myspace.
However, today a revelation occurred to me. People on myspace think I'm a robot! I type flawlessly, I don't typo very often if at all, and I punctuate correctly. I have an expansive vocabulary to boot and an incredibly obtuse sense of humor, the nuances of which either make you extremely annoyed of me or want to love me into the early morning hours. (I must inform you that I do possess the prowess to make love until the early hours of the morning, dorkiness notwithstanding) So because I don't type in garbled english or use slang or incorporate double negatives in each and every sentence of my message, I am a freak, a robot, an alien, an untenable refugee.
Fine!
I'll play along with this charade. Someone designate a name for me which will serve as my VIN#. It can be random letters or numbers. I am not your friend anymore. I'm a robot and I feel nothing.
And I decimate any furry creatures or tiny children that come within range.
(This post was the harmful byproduct of being severely bored at work.)
|
|
| Memoire. |
[29 Sep 2005|12:24pm] |
Today I emerged from my slumber with only three hours of rest behind me. How I felt was terrific.
Before I commence with the most engaging journal entry you'll ever read, I must vent about a co-worker. He is an atrocious and morbidly obese individual; I'd guess he weighs about 475 pounds. However it is not his girth that offends so much as his bathroom etiquette. I have established a morning routine. I wake up, shower, shave, get dressed for work, and I take breakfast with me, usually a whole grain bagel and green tea, and I prepare breakfast at work. After I eat breakfast at work, I brush my teeth in, of all places, the bathroom. It is not unlikely that I would use the facilities while I'm proximal to the toilet. However, HOWEVER, what I usually behold and smell upon entering the bathroom is more horrific than any trauma scene I've ever worked. My amazingly portly co-worker has somehow managed to expel fecal matter at impossible trajectories, invading unsuspecting crevaces that were to remain otherwise clean and intended to make contact with other people on a normal basis. Realizing that achieving a trajectory of 90 degrees or better would be impossible, it is my educated guess that my co-worker makes bowel movements with such intensity that the "projectile" ricoshets off of the toilet water and adheres itself to these unheard of places. I severely hope his own sloven tendencies expedite his departure from this world.
I emerged from my slumber with only three hours of sleep accounted for because I was playing FFXI until the wee hours of the night. In truth I am infatuated with a malboro named Cassie in that game. I am shameless in this confession. Competition to claim her was indeed high, however my linkshell claimed and killed her, and it is the first time we have done so in probably three months. It was a pleasant experience. There is a cape that I want her to drop and she never does. For this I will call her emotionally disparaging names. I will not do so in this journal because that would demolish the moral integrity it is intended to uphold. Contrary to the amount of sleep I got, my physical status is impeccable. I lend this feeling to green tea and vitamins. I like green tea, and I like vitamins.
I finally established my goal for living. My lifetime goal is to live to be 100 years old, and possibly beyond that mark as well. The way to attain such an age is to fortify body and mind. In truth this serves a dual purpose and I am hesitant to admit that I am a genius for devising this plot. I admitted it, however, because my character is strong and without shame. I am going to research the roman numeral for "100", which I will have tattooed on my body. It will be a constant reminder of my goal and the state of well-being I must maintain to achieve it. I am Atheist and it only makes sense to prolong my life on earth because otherwise I will become a splendid fertilizer. Which makes me wonder; if the earth continues to absorb us and our knowledge along with us, would it ever willingly cease to exist amidst this edification? If I were getting smarter just by sitting around and doing nothing, surely I would not end my life. Unless of course there is a capacity to what you can know. That is beyond my comprehension, but I believe that according to this theory, the world would never end. Myself as a fertilizer would be quite an acquisition as my knowledge is both pleasing and humorous. I will be a quality person to absorb.
In unrelated news, I can totally understand how men become homosexual. Show me a girl who is capable of writing such a compelling journal entry and I will elope with her fervently. FERVENTLY!
End!!
|
|
| A story about phallus. |
[27 Apr 2005|05:18pm] |
I'm a guy. It is inevitable, then, that you consider that I have a penis. I find myself attractive and thus I feel others find me attractive, which expedites your journey to the conclusion that I posess a penis. It's there, and our relationship is just like any other man & penis relationship. I don't stick him in vile places, and as a result he doesn't break out in horrible rashes.
This is a story about how I have close friends who are subjected to me, the sexual me. It's not something in casual conversation that I often discuss, but I was just peeing, and for once I decided maybe my penis deserves a livejournal entry.
At a party, I got extremely drunk. This was a few years ago, and I'll not waste brainpower trying to give an approximation as to the exact date. I was drinking 40 oz. Bud Light. A classy beverage if ever there was one. Hatred was not with me that night. My body felt warm and loving and not capable of being disliked. My tongue was not acid tipped that night. This was the first night a close friend saw my penis.
I was compelled to show him to a room full of people, Chris and Johnny included. Johnny's deftness was remarkable, to say the least. He covered his eyes before my smaller me was fully exposed. Chris was the hapless friend who saw my smaller me. He saw him swing, and bounce, and then become a tucked away penis once again, upon my own volition, mind you. Not because Chris implored that I do so. I think because of this, he has been in constant denial and in reality he enjoyed it. Since then we've remarked upon the incident sparingly. It was my penis, and if it was ever ruled out that I didn't have one, the occupants of the room that night can now safely confirm that I do have one.
Johnny did not evade the second encounter. Again I was drunk, but this time I was exuberant and still warm. Never have I been a cold drunk and subjected my penis to social behavior. Johnny was lounging in an armchair, listless in his drunkenness and not really fraternizing at that moment. To Travis, I loudly exclaimed, "RAGE!" I then grabbed my smaller me, who for some reason was hard and strong, and I rammed him into Johnny's shoulder. The air between Johnny and I became congested with misunderstanding. He furrowed his brows but I was without shame that night. I informed him of what just struck him. Grimly, he accepted this, and we've spoke of it in passing ever since. This was the second time a close friend encountered my penis.
Alcohol assisted me in kissing Tony one night as well, during a session of spin the bottle. Chris declined kissing me, and Tony did not. I kissed a guy, and there was nothing monumental about it. I contemplated letting him touch my penis, but I suppressed the notion, for sure knowing he would decline and possibly arch a brow at me in a fashion that would make me bear shame. Moving right along.
My phone has a camera in it. One day I was marvelling at my erect penis and decided to use my incredibly convenient cameraphone to capture my penis, in pristine posture, taking in sunlight and fighting gravity in its stead. The picture was then uploaded to my webspace. I disseminated this picture to an area where I knew Travis would find it. He found it, and was indifferent towards me for a day perhaps. We then became great friends with that final line crossed. This was the third time a close friend encountered my penis, and on the internet, it was a liberating experience. But my penis no longer felt special, being viewable. I could so easily send the picture to a friend and another thread of dignity and regality would be stripped from my penis. I deleted the picture after Travis saw it.
Those are my adventures as it relates to my penis. Every day, or almost every day, I let him know that he is loved. I take care of him, I shave designs around him. He is mine and not yours. Although it is possible that you have one of your own. Capable of moving worlds and creating remarkable escapades, the penis is a beacon of both misunderstanding and humor, of pride and of humility.
|
|
| Last. |
[27 Apr 2005|02:59pm] |
I'm ready to write. Today I've been given the equipment and fuel, and as always I have the forum to convey my voice. Alas I've obligated myself to drinks and the muse will probably elude me by the time I return to my computer.
I'll take my pen with me.
If I could give my life for dragons to exist in this world, would I? I'm stuck in this quandary. Am I insane for even considering the option of killing myself so that dragons can thrive?
Slow down brain, slow down.
|
|
| There's a delicate love song in this. |
[27 Apr 2005|08:40am] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Every Time I Die - Romeo A Go-Go |
] |
Post enough away messages for a fire, and eventually you get fire.
( LJ cut (you're spared) )
I made all photos 800 x 600 for XTREME ARTICULATION. The fire started somehow, it started at some time, and personally, it doesn't intrigue me at all. As JR says, I'm a "Jake". I pull hose to the fire, I fight fire, I go home. I don't pump, I don't investigate, and I don't tell people what to do. Jakes for the most part are happy with their position.
"Jake" is a northern firefighting term, made by Italian firefighters in NY. Northern departments have tremendous community pride, especially in New York and Massachusetts. It really makes me envious. Locals in the fire department jurisdictions in said areas always refer to the departments as "my department" and not "the department". Just really cool. A lot of respect, and as a result a lot of effort put forth on the fire department's side as reciprocation for that appreciation. Here, no one really appreciates us too much, although occasionally they do. That's fine, I'll do my job the same regardless.
We were on that fire scene from 6:30 Am til 1:30 PM, so 7 hours. Long enough to still be tired as hell, especially after cleaning and loading 200 feet of 5 inch hose with only three people back at the fire house. And then we ran three calls during the night, so I amassed 3.5 hours of sleep. Strange day.
Gonna nap now, and do some errands when I wake up. Hopefully I'll have time and motivation to work out. =] Later.
|
|
| Of course. |
[23 Apr 2005|06:16am] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Poison The Well - Ghostchant |
] |
Of course I woke up all during the night. It's hard not to when lightning splits your dwelling in two.
Of course once when I woke up, at 3AM, I drank almost a gallon of milk, ate a slice of cheese, and drank/ate some chocolate pudding.
Of course I had a dairy hangover when I did wake up.
Of course I had a dream where I was flirting with a ladyboy on myspace who I KNEW had cocknballs but I hit on shim anyway, and we scheduled to meet each other after I sent shim an animated .GIF of my stripping out of my turnout gear. ._.
Of course when I woke up and shaved, it hurt and burned really bad. HATRED.
OF COURSE I'M GOING TO WORK NOW.
OF COURSE I WANT A HOUSE FIRE TODAY, SO FIERCE THAT IT MAKES ME QUESTION WHY I DO THIS JOB. ONE THAT REALLY SCARES ME AND MAKES ME VALUE THE LITTLE THINGS I OFTEN TAKE FOR GRANTED.
Of course, we bridged our paths. Travis talked to Krista and vice versa. The world is complete.
|
|
| SOME PEOPLE DON'T HEAR IT ENOUGH. |
[21 Apr 2005|08:43am] |
TO EVERYONE ON MY FRIENDS LIST AND ALL THOSE ANONYMOUS FOLKS WHO'VE PUT UP WITH MY NONSENSICAL, MELODRAMATIC HORSE-SHIT FOR SO LONG, I OFFER YOU THE PRIZE FOR YOUR VIGOR.
NOTE THAT NEITHER OF THOSE FAGGOTS ARE ME, BUT WHAT THEY GESTURE SYMBOLIZES HOW I CURRENTLY FEEL ABOUT THOSE WHO FREQUENT MY BLOG.
HAVE A SAFE, SUPER EXCELLENT DAY. I'M GOING TO SHOWER NOW AND PONDER THE LESSER THINGS IN LIFE.
|
|
| WILD & CRAZY ENTRY LOL!!!! |
[20 Apr 2005|06:10am] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Thrice - Deadbolt |
] |
DIDN'T SLEEP VERY WELL LAST NIGHT. FOR THE MOST PART, I HAD THIS NIGHTMARE WHERE I KILLED DANIELLE'S NEW LITTLE DOG WITH MY BARE HANDS. I BASICALLY JUST THROTTLED ITS NECK TIL IT DIED FROM IT. WELL I SPENT THE DURATION OF THE NIGHTMARE TRYING TO COVER UP THE MURDER, AND I WAS WRITING THE LENGTHY APOLOGY LETTER. I SWEAR I WAS WRITING FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE HOURS, AND IT'S REALLY A BUMMER THAT I WASTED DREAMSPACE JUST SITTING ON MY ASS, WRITING. I COULD'VE BEEN FIGHITNG DRAGONS.
LET IT BE KNOWN THAT WHEN I AM IN A FESTIVE, JOYOUSLY APATHETIC MOOD, I SHALL WRITE IN CAPS. WHEN I PLAY INFANTRY, I ONLY TYPE IN CAPITALS EVER, TO SYMBOLIZE THAT I SIMPLY WON'T TAKE THAT GAME SERIOUSLY.
PRODUCTIVE CONVERSATION ABOUT RELIGION AND ABOUT LIFE WAS HAD WITH TONY YESTERDAY, AND IT IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED TO UNLEASH HAPPINESS & SMILES.
I REALLY LIKE DRINKING WHOLE MILK, BUT I'M AFRIAD IT'S LIKE THE MOST UNHEALTY THING EVER TO DRINK. QUITE DISTURBING HOW IT HAS FAT IN IT. DRINKING FAT? TANTALIZING.
I'M OFF TO WORK. I CUT MYSELF A FEW TIMES SHAVING SO I THOUGHT ABOUT CALLING IN BUT I'LL JUST TAKE IT LIKE A TROOPER. PEACE.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
untrust's journal