Open Scribbles

So there was a brief portion where I wasp laying some updated version of Infinite Crisis  but the map was updated to be like Halcyon Fold from Vainglory . I was playing Vampire Batman or something. Okay. So the rest of the dream (or at least the parts I remember) consisted of me surfing Reddit and getting criticized for videos of my life. One was talking about how the Koh's didn't really love me. That I disgusted them, that they enjoyed me with a sense of twisted curiosity, as if I was amusing in my atrocities, but that I otherwise offended them with my existence. And the other was I was talking to somebody (I don't really remember who but I think it was a girl -- strange how it's always girls) and we were arguing about how to pronounce the name "Lydia". And I kept telling her it was "LID-ee-uh" but she kept saying "No I don't think so, it's 'li-dee-UH'", and I was like "No, I know someone named Lydia, it...

I was on vacation in some hotel of sorts. The first floor was recreation, the second floor for both living and recreation, but the third was for living. I lived on the third floor with four(?) other girls. I don’t remember their names (I think some were K-pop stars since I was listening to Gee all of last night) but I remember one was named Nicole. So my party and I had some issues with our neighbors downstairs. They were all adult, drunkards, and incredibly snobby. I thought they lived on the second floor but, to my dismay, they lived on the third floor with us. Our butler had forgotten to mark the option for “M.E.” when reserving the rooms, so these unappealing adults unfortunately lived in the same room as us. I have no idea what M.E. stands for.  There was some dude who I confronted because there was this special grey-canned alcohol in a vending machine/cooler thing. I don’t remember the significance of the alcohol or the man.  I also remember watching the girl...

I’m going to start recording my dreams. To denote how well I remember the dream, I will use a scale of 1 to 3, 1 being I only remember one or two details, 2 being I know the general idea, 3 being I almost remember the entirety of the dream. I dreamt about ice skating with Marian. I told her I had a friend who’s a figure skater, that she just puts her foot down and it’s like “woah!” Marian laughed in response. I could feel the biting wind on my cheeks, but otherwise I was comfortably warm. The lake we were skating on was familiar, like a cross between Rocket Ice and HoneyRock’s lake.

So I play League of Legends and StarCraft right? Well, today I spent some time with someone who plays both. He's a cool dude, but there's one thing that stuck out to me: He's a redneck. (Which you already knew from the title of this post.) And sure, he somewhat justified the connotation the word "redneck" entails. But there's something that complex and innately human that the connotation "redneck" holds (as is with all slurs/derogatory terms). Sure, he wrestles, does martial arts, fought a lot, drank beer, smoked, lived in Texas, drove diesel trucks, and if you're stupid enough to threaten him he will pulverize you, but he's a nice kid just getting through life. He's devoted in his work and sticks up for the people he cares for. And, of course, this redneck plays League and SC2. I don't know. It's just that every time I talk to people in person, hear their voice, listen to the way they talk, their experiences, I realize how ...

If love is sacrifice, then parents sure as hell love their children. They sacrifice so much! But then do kids love their parents? They can’t really sacrifice anything. Maybe when they save a lollipop or something for someone. Maybe children who lose people early suffer the most because, even though they love them, they have nothing to sacrifice for them. I’m beginning to think the most prevalent way for children to express love to their parents  — the only way for them to sacrifice — is to obey them.

Fishing So I went sport fishing two days ago. In six hours, we caught one sixty-pound spearfish. It was not particularly entertaining. The fish itself was stunning. It is supremely difficult to describe how beautiful this fish was. It almost spanned the entire width of the ship deck; its streamlined form, a physical realization of my male swimmer’s fantasy, covered with almost invisible, delicious cobalt scales, flashed brilliantly under the afternoon sun, even as the fisherman stabbed it with a hook and viscously slung it into the underbelly of the boat. And the fisherman apathetically spilled trunks of ice over the majestic creature, and the fish gasped and thrashed in a hopeless battle for survival, beating the vessel with a sorrowful vengeance; and as the fisherman sealed and locked the door to the frigid slaughterhouse below, the boat shook with the desperate death-throes of the magnificent animal, pining to get out, to escape and swim free, knowing it would never again se...

Fantastic Mr. Fox In the movie for Fantastic Mr. Fox, Mrs. Fox is wed to a professional thief. But a thief is a somewhat respectable profession in the animal world, apparently, or at least it isn’t illegal. I’m guessing this is because he steals from the big guys, the humans, and he has no reason to steal from his brethren woodlanders. And the farmers try to destroy the animals. So I’m wondering, is Fantastic Mr. Fox an allegory for society or something? idek Vampires What if vampires were actually just sadists who feed off of other people’s misery? Like that’s their entire origin story.

Blog Okay. So first things first: this blog. So Marian told me to do this blog and I did it, but I didn't really realize what for. I originally planned it to be a little publishing area for myself, but then I realized that purpose doesn't make sense since nobody comes here anyways. So I guess this will become a sort of thought journal. I already have a thought journal (sort of) but I think this blog would suit the purpose of writing random thoughts much better. I usually would talk to Christy about the things I would write in here, but I find that after talking to her I don't really feel the need to write anymore. But I want these thoughts to be physically written down so I can revisit and reflect on them later. So yeah. And Marian, since you're probably the only one who would ever visit this site (though I still doubt you would, I haven't posted in two months), you can still read this and my future posts if you want, I mean this is a blog and all. If you ar...