But, there's the exception to this rule, and that is during vacations and weekends when I'm awake and very tired. Usually, in these cases, I'm sitting at my computer, thinking how bored I am, and listening to whatever happens to be in the winamp playlist. (At the moment, it's Radiohead's "Paranoid Android") So, here I am, and I wonder about how everything is going. What I'm gonna do in a year or so, who I'm going to know. What I'm going to be like. What I want to do. That kind of stuff. Also running through my head is nostalgic stuff. I'll hear a song by some band or group I heard about from a friend I met at some summer camp, and go back to thinking how much I'd like to be there doing whatever I was doing again. (This occurred earlier today, as triggered by a listening to Oasis' "Don't look back in anger." This particular song, as I have realized has significant memories of camp during the 2000 summer.)
So anyway, here I am now, writing about what prompts me to write. I suppose it's time for a new topic. How about... My amazing social skills. Or not. A mere observation that bears relevance to the poetry presentation I had to give today... Walt Whitman's poem "Song of the open road" has a couple of stanzas explaining how the open road is free of societal custom and tradition, and because of this, true friendship and brotherhood among men can be achieved. This is because in society, we are restricted by the norms of society, expected to be within some level of conformity or be ostracized as some sort of weirdo. The thing is, I think he's right. We may not believe it, but I think that at all times, we are trying to be one of the crowd, unless of course you're some sort of recluse weirdo. But wait, a weirdo to me, however, to others, they may not be viewed the same way. I assume they are a weirdo because they, unlike me, do not necessarily seek the company of others. This isn't even society, so much as a toned down version of xenophobia. Well, not really, more just that people don't like people who are differnt from them. Is that not what is in part behind the issue of racism, and other forms of discrimination?
I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. But do I ever really know? I mean... I've got a quote somewhere from some great philosopher character, but I'll paraphrase. Basically, it says that we know the senses can be decieved, but how do we know when? For that matter, how do we know not always? And if always, what difference does it make? Does my view change if I know that my life is merely the figments of some insane computer's imagination? I mean, whoa. This is, like, deep thought.
Ok, well, while the thought is still fresh in my mind, I will also consider the bit about how do we know when we're being decieved. For example, how do you, the reader, know that I'm not some psychopath with an extremely elaborate imagination creating a fictitious account of the world from the point of view of some kid? Well, for those that know me, too often is it made clear that I'm authoring this, however to some random schmoe who finds me from some web directory or search engine, I could be anybody. In AIM, how do I know who is who? I don't. How do the people talking to me know who I am? They don't. I think the anonymity is entirely fascinating. So anyway, what prompted the sudden mention of anonymity was some reading I was doing earlier... here it is. It's an interesting view of some varying levels on anonymousness. Sort of.
Well. I think I've done enough babbling. Maybe, if I want to, I could be up early enough to see some cartoons. They're quality stuff. Well. Some of them at least. Like Transformers! Yeah, those guys were awesome for a while. Before they got SUCKY that is. Also, did you know that in the first Transformer's movie (maybe it was the 2nd, I can't remember) they actually had to cut some scenes to prevent getting an R rating? I'm telling you. Cartoons, they're gruesome. And we expose the world's youth to them all to often. Walt Disney may in fact be the tool of the devil. I don't have any actual thought process to back that particular statement up. But still. We'll never know, will we?