Welcome To My Hell

I think I can honestly say that I haven’t been this depressed in a year.

That last visit to the dentist’s office completely floored me. If I had to guess, I think it was a combination of the price tag on my new teeth and my general feeling of despair the last few weeks.

I have always been in doubt about my job and career path. I have always said that computers are what I know but people are what I love. See, I want money. I don’t feel shallow in saying it. I want alot of money. I want enough money that regardless of the purchase I make, the balance of my bank account doesn’t even cross my mind. And uh, computers are not going to be the way to get said money.

I see my dentist. Charisma so extreme, even if you had your eyes closed, you could feel when he walked into the room. He commanded respect like nothing I’ve seen before all while maintaining a friendly tone. His staff clearly liked and respected him.

I — I don’t know.

I’m aware that if I get like this every time I meet someone who is staggeringly my superior I’m not going to be very happy — but my hell.

I suppose I should be proud of myself for being twenty two and already being above the poverty line for an average sized family in Utah. I suppose that’s a pretty cool badge to privately enjoy.

But I worry about the reason I am proud of this fact. I learned what a bill was by age four. I was subjected to the stresses that debt and money put on my mother all through my childhood — if you could even call it a childhood. I empathized with my mother to a clearly unhealthy extent. I came to learn very quickly that money would be a powerful force in my future. I don’t feel that was right. I should not have been worrying about my mothers financial situation at such a young age.

I’m sporadic, drugged, and in pain. So I’ll stop in a second. I just don’t like living in a world where the success of a person is measured on paper in the form of money, diplomas, certifications, and degrees. Rather then the quality of his character and his willingness to work for what he wants.

Second thought. I am lacking greatly in the willingness to work department. To date, only martial arts and cars have ever motivated me beyond standing up. I actively go out and work very hard for these things. Imagine if I had felt the same way about school 10 years ago.

I need to go back to school. Perhaps with my own money on the line I will fight through the work. But even then… What do I go back to school to study?

Utah Chaetarthrian Water Scavenger Beetle.

Nearly stepped on him getting out of my car. How a beetle that no doubt came from Decker Lake wound up in the middle of the parking lot in the warehouse district of West Valley, I have no idea.

Anyway, I come to find it is critically endangered. So rather then breaking the law, I let it go after I identified it.

Beautiful insect.

Don’t let the picture fool you. It was a big sucker. About 2 inches. Biggest beetle I’ve ever seen in Utah.

So today after I picked up my contact lenses I swung by West Jordan High on a side project. I figured since I was at the school. I’d say hello to some of my old teachers.

I found my band teacher Mrs. Leyva. Busy as always. I don’t know how she does it sometimes. But as always she didn’t miss a beat between a talk with an old student showing up after a few years and getting back to her Marching Band.

I also had to find my psychology teacher Mrs. White. It was most of the reason I bothered to poke around the school at all. It only seemed fitting considering that it was her class that put me on track to where I am today. Now, I’m not exactly a successful millionare on the East side. But I’m doing very well for someone my age. More over, Heather was also minutes away from getting her bachelors degree in Psychology. So I had to inform Mrs. White as such.

When I informed Mrs. White of Heather’s pending graduation she asked if it’s really been that long. I didn’t think it was that long right at first, but now sitting here…Thinking about the fact that Mrs. White now has two kids and looking at the size of the desks in the class. It makes me kinda of nostalgic. It’s true what they say about time speeding up as you get older. My whole life from birth to age 18 took exactly 18 years. But the time between 18 and 22….Seems to have taken mere months.

I once had an discussion with Heather about immortality. I didn’t like the idea of living forever. I think now I’ve changed my mind. There really is so much to see and do. — Too many experiences that I will no doubt never have.

Don’t watch. Just listen.

Forgive my absence. I’ve been very busy every night with an upcoming class at work that I am having my doubts about *cough*.

But off that subject. I’m here for a distraction. Not a reminder. This will no doubt be one of those filler posts that I use to remind everyone that I am in fact still here. So if you have: school, work, schoolwork, or — Er, workwork. Do that.

If you are here out of soul-crushing, mind-numbing, ego-raping boredom that is likely to shorten your lifespan by 10 years, (or you’re here by accident) then read on.

I wanted to share an interesting thing I noticed recently when I was taking an elevator up to the higher levels of a Union Park building.

On the way up and down this particular elevator the other day I found it quite illuminating to watch people compulsively press the “Close-Door” button really quickly when the door was open as if it was going to make it close any sooner.

You know about this button right? Did you also know that the Close-Door button has absolutely no function at all save that of giving you the illusion of control? It’s a simple decoration. And nothing more.

Elevator music is the perfect example of this. Soothing music instated for only one reason. To distract you from the fact that you are on an enclosed, personal-space-violating, claustrophobia-exacerbating, mechanical lift that is rocketing upwards at speeds faster then you would drive your car in a parking lot. With psychological waiting times of whole seconds!

So there I was. Watching. Quietly and and disgustingly judging this women when the door eventually closed — reinforcing her belief in the button’s power.

I found it to be akin to a faith based religion.

Now I too, am automatically bound to many schedules that I have been conditioned to. Not putting my hand on a hot stove, not jumping off a cliff, etc… But a button in an elevator?! C’mon people! Does no one think for themselves? Does anyone have the knowledge and drive to not be a zombie enslaved by their own lack of self awareness?

Do this. Next time you’re on an elevator. (Preferably when there are at least 3 others on it.) Stand in the middle, and face the back. How does it make you feel? How does it make the others feel? It is then you will know what it feels like to go against such a deep seeded procedure as ‘elevator etiquette’.

As if it were not for them, I would have totally spaced my birthday tomorrow.

So… 22. What a crappy age to turn. Anything past 21 is just counting the years. Not that I was counting…

I’m pretty sure this is the time when I stop waiting to turn a certain age and then dreading the passing years. Not to mention I have yet to even get the chance to fully exploit my quickly fleet age of 21 as I have yet to go gambling, lose a lot of money, think I can win it back, and learn a very harsh and conversely important lesson.

Now there are no longer the cool age limits to look forward to. See, first you have 16 when you get your drivers license. Then 17 for losing your virginity. (This is of course subjective.) 19 for Tobacco. And of course 21 — usually outshining all others for the freedom to *ahem* legally consume alcohol. But it’s a long stretch to the coveted 35. Which you must be to in order to be President of the United States.

35. That is the next big one for me. Look out fuckers. Eugenics and life dependent competency tests for all.

Read this first. And then we shall discuss.

ACCOKEEK, Maryland (AP) — Thick smoke and dark conditions likely meant the driver of a car that plowed into a group of people on a suburban road early Saturday, killing eight, never saw the crowd, police said.

The deadly crash happened when about 50 people who had gathered to watch a drag race spilled onto the highway to watch two racing cars speed off.

Police said the white sedan was not involved in the street race but accidentally drove into the crowd.

“There were just bodies everywhere; it was horrible,” said Crystal Gaines, 27, whose father was among the dead.

Gaines said she grabbed her child but could not help her father, William Gaines Sr., 61.

“He wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t moving,” she said. “His body was in pieces.”

Gaines said the car did not have its lights on, but police could not confirm that.

The white sedan hit people standing on the side of Route 210 around 3:40 a.m., Prince George’s County Police Cpl. Clinton Copeland said.

A tractor-trailer that came by shortly afterward may also have struck someone on the road as it tried to avoid the crash, he said.

“It’s probably one of the worst scenes I’ve seen,” Copeland said. “This is a situation that could have been avoided, and it’s a very tragic situation.”

The victims ranged in age from their 20s to 60s, police said. Seven people were pronounced dead at the scene, and an eighth died later at a hospital.

At least five people were injured.

Hours after the accident on the divided highway in Accokeek, bodies covered in white sheets were scattered along what police were calling a 200-yard crime scene. Some were in the road, while others were on the shoulder.

The sedan came to a rest on an embankment about 150 feet from where the crowd had been. It had a crumpled front and hood, and the roof had partially collapsed.

The driver of the white sedan had been interviewed and did not appear to be seriously hurt, Police Capt. Donald Frick said. Police said a body found in the car was one of the spectators and not a passenger as they had previously reported.

According to police, two cars had lined up for a race on the smooth and relatively flat and straight stretch of highway. They spun their wheels, kicking up smoke, then sped off, Copeland said.

The crowd then moved into the road to watch the cars drive away. The combination of the smoke and the dark morning likely meant the driver of the approaching white sedan could not see the crowd. No charges were pending.

Authorities were looking for the drivers of the two cars involved in the race.

Authorities were working to identify the victims by showing digital photos of them to bystanders who said loved ones had been hurt. John Courtney said after viewing one of the images that his brother, Mark, 33, was among the dead.

“He liked going to the race track, watching races,” Courtney said. “It’s going to take a toll on my family for a long time.”

Investigators had “more questions than answers,” Copeland said.
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Route 210 has two lanes in each direction and traffic lights about every 150 to 200 yards in Accokeek, about 20 miles south of Washington. In that area, the road is flanked by some businesses but has little traffic in the early hours, Copeland said.

Frick said it’s common in the summer for police to deal with reports of motorcycles racing on the highway, which is relatively smooth with long straightaways, but he said they have not had as much of an issue with cars.

First off. Street racing is the stupidest thing anyone can do. Keep it on the track. Moving on…

A few observant questions:

- Why is the driver’s name not mentioned once?
- Why is the driver not being charged with Vehicular Homicide all because “The combination of the smoke and the dark morning likely meant the driver of the approaching white sedan could not see the crowd.”? Any driver would know not to drive high speed through a cloud of smoke.
- Who the hell comes up from behind a street race with their lights turned off?
- Why is the vehicle explicitly referred to as a ‘White Sedan’ throughout the article?
- How did police know that “They spun their wheels, kick[ed] up smoke, then sped off.”?

Huh, I don’t know. Let’s venture a guess, shall we?!

Well, we can plainly see that the car that hit the crowd was a police Crown Victoria. We can’t know if it was decommissioned or not. But it is definitely a police vehicle. And this car, which was not involved in the actual race came up from behind, with it’s light’s off, hits and kills 8 people, and no one knows the name of the driver?!

Are the pieces falling into place yet?

At this point it’s completely irrelevant that an illegal street race was going on. The headline should read: Negligent police officer kills 8 in crowd.

A police officer just killed 8 people because they were trying to chase down a few racers. And the fucker is likely to get away with it, and this whole thing covered up. Because God forbid the public finds out the that there are more cops killing people in an attempt to stop illegal street racing, then there are actual fatalities resulting from the races themselves!

Of course, it being a Utah Honda/Acura meet, it rained. For those of you who have been to a few of these, you know that we can’t have a car meet around here without some rain.

The turn out was phenomenal. Over 100 cars jammed into the Central Terrace as Sugarhouse park. Saw the� guy who ripped my idea off with the SiR 4th Gen Prelude. Heh.

Although the meet� was yesterday, I’m posting about it a day late. Which is a very accurate reflection of how I felt about the meet.

Even with the rain, after 2 hours of attempting to get the charcoal lit, discussion with other car enthusiasts, and one or two hilarious moments. Myself as long as many others, were getting antsy. As I drifted through the crowds, the vast majority of what I heard was to the effect of: “Where are we going to go cruise?”

See, when� you have a crowd like that, with over 120 people present, they are not going to collectively collaborate as a hive mind and hop in their cars as start driving. They need someone to stand up and go: “Hey! We’re fuckin’ going! Everyone get your shit together and lets go cruise the canyon!”

I was very keen to the fact that the last break in the rain was upon us. After my repeated suggestions to the organizer of the event that we need to cut the futile food attempt out of the schedule. The rain picked up to a pour. And the canyon cruise was cancelled.

Maybe I’m just bitter. Maybe it was all I have to look forward� to for the entire month save� the unusually prolonged — rendezvous with Heather.� I wouldn’t call it an interview. but hardly a tryst either. (What constitutes a “date” anyway?)

Anyway,� I was looking forward to a canyon run. I changed my tires, topped off my fluids, changed my oil, washed my car… All so I could go home without getting to molest my car like I was looking forward to doing.

Kinda feels like I was� jerked off for an entire week and didn’t finish when� the other party� quit on me a few seconds shy. I take it back, that’s exactly the way it feels. I’ve got the surging frustration, tics� and everything.

�

Fuck! I need to find something to occupy myself outside of work. It’s 21:00 and I’m worrying about my upcoming PHP/MySQL� class coming up next week! And I’m using military time! Ahh! I can always tell when I’m getting ready freak the hell out when I start thinking on the 24 clock.

Eh. Crisis is a bit extreme. But it’s Friday night, I’m at home, I’m way too well dressed for my age/personality, I’m drinking wine, and watching Sex and the City –� Which I admittedly voluntarily acquired because I wanted to watch it.

To cap it off, I have more physical contact from fucking around with coworkers then anything else at the moment… Man that didn’t sound right, but I’m not going to change it because I don’t know how else to� literally convey the shenanigans.

So. All I need to do now, is not be attracted to women, and look past my intense aversion to any kind of anal sex, straight or not, and I’m there. Lol.

And another thing. Do you see what happened back there? When I said literally? You’ve completely lost sight of the meaning of the word. “Literally” has been so overused as a sort of vague intensifier that it is in danger of losing its literal meaning. It should be used to distinguish between a figurative and a literal meaning of a phrase. It should not be used as a synonym for “actually” or “really.” Don’t say of someone that he “literally blew up” unless he swallowed a grenade.

That is all.

The Branden approach to getting laid� is asking 100 different women for sex, and hoping that at least one will say yes. I however, rather then asking 100 different women for sex,� am simply asking you 100 times.

I have a bunch of different things running through my head. But at the moment I am enthrawled with a movie, and I’m typing this out quickly, rather then forgetting to later.

It was Fetish Night tonight at Area 51. It was rather depressing. I spent the better part� of the evening in a cycnical and contemplative mood. I realized that all of the things that I like to think are “me”, may not be� me at all.

I’m an attention whore. I’m one of the worst ones. Short of yelling out in the middle of a crowded room at least…

I start to think about all the things I love about me. My car, the way I dress, martial arts, my intellect, my funny quirks and mental abnormalities that have thus far worked to my benefit. But then I realize that in the beginning, all of these things are but mediums in which I have used to draw attention to myself. My car is a fast and red. The way I dress is very outstanding and unusual. The martial arts I have practiced for years and years are but very flamboyant demonstration pieces. My intelligence is the biproduct of not having any friends as a kid, which I now sometimes use to demonstrate my superiority over some people. And finally, my funny quirks are attention drawing in themselves when and if people� notice them. Tourette’s and Grapheme Synesthesia make for an interesting� personality cocktail. Of course, most are not aware of these disorders. And I actually prefer it that way.

All these things, I use them to stand out. I feel like but one of 4.5 billion people, and that I must somehow find a way to isolate myself from the group in order to be noticed. I feel like a penguin trying to find the best stone to impress a mate.

I genuinely feel like I am worth something. I don’t have the self esteem issue I once did. But I look around me, all these people, happily married/dating, whatever. I see some of the nicest girls sleeping with pricks…� I’m a nice guy. I am. And I have alot to offer. But the fact is, is that I don’t know anyone. If I don’t know anyone, no one can know me. The only people I associate with are my friend Vann and my coworkers.

*sigh* Right. Well that’s all I suppose.

9 3 0� 6� 1 8� 2 5 4 7

Heh.� Looking at the list, I can see I’ve pretty much ordered the numbers according to which has the most desirable personality traits.

Ever consider� which numbers you prefer over another? Try it.

After I saw the first Harry� Potter movie. I immediately knew that the day would come when Emma Watson would be one of the� most searched� names on the internet.

Well, after all the skeptics, nay-sayers, and� false claims of my underlying pedophilia. Here we are.� 6 years later, and she is all over the internet. I can’t navigate to a single image board without seeing her at least once.

Score one for Jeffrey bishes!

By: Cynical loser your suspect is trying to sleep with his cars.

• A car can wait forever for you.
• A car doesn’t compare you with it’s past users.
• A car doesn’t get calls from it’s past users while you own it.
• A car doesn’t mind how excited you get.
• A car doesn’t tell you how great it’s past owners were.
• A car is big in all the right places.
• A car doesn’t ask you if you’re seeing other cars.
• A car won’t even talk about marriage.
• A car won’t mind how many other cars you have.
• A car won’t say, “Let’s just be friends.”
• A car won’t shave with your razor.
• A car doesn’t ask you a thousand querstions everytime you get in.
• Cars are easy to turn on.
• Cars are ready when you are.
• Cars are very responsive.
• Cars will always do what you want it to.
• Cars don’t care about age difference.
• Cars don’t care if you’re married.
• Cars don’t get pregnant.
• Cars don’t get upset if you use other cars.
• Cars don’t make you meet their parents.
• Cars don’t mind if you share them with a friend.
• Cars don’t play ‘head games’ unless you boost too hard.
• Cars never ask you to call them later.
• Cars never have headaches, or take rainchecks, or have a curfew, or have that time of the month.
• Cars won’t mind if you don’t like their friends.
• With a car, you never have to say you’re sorry.
• You can turn off a car.
• You can visit a car any time you like, and it’ll be up and ready for you.
• You don’t have to tell cars you love them. (But I do anyway.)
• You’ll never hear”Surprise! You are going to be a proud father of a new car ” unless of course you go out and buy one yourself.
• Cars don’t have to have a shower every morning.
• Cars don’t mind if you stay in the garage all day and work on them. In fact, they love it.
• Cars don’t complain about how loud the music is.
• You can always make a car look ‘young’ again.
• A car doesn’t care if it’s not getting enough attention.
• You can look at pictures of nice cars all you want to and not feel like a pervert.
• You can hang any kind of car picture in your dorm room and not get in trouble.
• A car doesn’t have girlfriend cars that will talk about you and tell her that you are not good for her.
• You can rub and wax a car in your driveway and not get arrested for lewdness.
• Cars don’t get mad at you for no reason every 28 days.
• You can always test drive a car before making a commitment.
• Cars come with an owners manual.
• You can stare at nice cars in a parking lot and your car won’t care.
• If the car makes too much noise, you can get a muffler.
• If you shave it once, it stays that way.
• Cars come with warranties.
• $1500 goes a long way for body work.
• They’re always well lubricated.
• A car screams every time your press the pedal harder.
• A car won’t cheat on you.
• Cars don’t whine unless something is really wrong.
• A car can’t be driven by another guy unless you give them the keys.

�

In the last ten years, the average number of children in an intelligent, high IQ family has dropped from 2 to 1.5 children, and the average number of children in� an uneducated, low IQ family has went up from 4.6 to 5 children. — In ten years! That kind of� change in only a decade is� phenomenally scary.

So lets see. Humans have no natural predators. Lets couple that with advancements in medical technology that allow us to keep the lesser� humans� who would not have been naturally selected to reproduce.

Increasing population. Decreasing intelligence due to the people with the affinity for a higher brain capacity being disturbingly outnumbered. We’re biologically watering down our brains.

You may not like it, but the tribes of ancient greece, the Chinese, hell even Hitler in a sence, had the right idea. The status quo can’t stay like this too much longer. We should at least have a promoted, voluntary eugenics program.

Check this out.

A bunch of geniuses in� Libertyville, IL, gather for an anti-abortion rally. When asked if abortion should be illegal, naturally they answer, “Yes.”

But when questioned if abortions were illegal, if there should be a penalty, no one has an answer.

Excellent video makes an excellent point.

Your body. Your business. Don’t let stupid people� dictate what you are allowed to do with it.