Archive for November, 2011


I don’t really know what is to blame, but I am exceptionally frustrated with my laptop at present. I am on my second attempt at installing Windows 7, and I don’t know why it failed the first time.
This ordeal is quite on the borderline of an inconvenience most untimely. Finals are within two weeks, and I have projects and writings to finish before Finals begin. I’m sure it’s entirely situational whenever it has happened to me, but times like this throughout my life have determined my likenesses for things. Microsoft has been one of the most unreliable functions in my technological life. Both generations of Xbox have been unreliable and needed replacing, and the last two Operating Systems have torn up my computer functionalities.
I’m sure I could blame Alienware for being purchased by Dell, but Dell polices as many updates as it possibly can to maintain properly functioning computers under its name, since Microsoft doesn’t have any precautionary measures to the like.
With that in mind, it’s not to hard to understand that my love for Playstation, even through the hardest of times, has been strong, since the brand has always been there for me. That is only my situation. I know many have had bad luck with Playstation. But that’s how things work. Loyalties come from reliabilities, and it’s unfortunate that not everyone can be completely reliable.



During the middle of last week, I was asked to enter a writing contest, and the subject matter initially felt out of my league.
The piece was to be about a women or about women in general. As unorthodox as it may seem, I’m not a woman. I don’t know about normal thoughts pertaining to the subject, but I’ve spent extensive time thinking about what being a woman would be like. Unlike anything else in this world, being a woman is something I truly cannot do. Sure, aesthetic options are available for such a thing, but it’s only a process of alteration. In other words, a man in a female form.
But, I digress, as expected,  I suppose. With all of this in mind, I took all of my life experiences to their full extent of applicability and entered the contest. I joke a lot about women, much not than I should, especially since my true opinion of them is much more positive. I started writing a paper over the Thanksgiving break. After finishing two pages, my words started feeling ingenuine and almost hypocritical. So, I scrapped it–in a sense, since I still have it. I opted for a poem instead; more meaning with fewer words, a metaphor in and of itself.
It felt good. Almost above me, as if the content came from someone else. I worry still that the general male stigma will come back to haunt me. On a lighter note, the entries will be anonymously judged.
I’m anxious, reader, to hear the results. I want to be compared to competent writers. Being an eagle among turkeys isn’t good enough for me. I’ll keep you posted.

Public schemas

In a country founded on individualism, it’s almost ironic that regulating patterns occur through social behavior. Every occupation has them, and every social circle has them. In my case, fast food has many which are not identified.
A schema is a trained thought that corresponds with a mental expectation to a person, place, or situation. For instance, one thinks differently in a bathroom and in a kitchen. Both rooms are meant for different things, so it’s only natural. The same goes in terms of one’s food and those who serve it. I’ll use two real situations as examples from this evening. I delivered to a business, and the lady, who was standing next to a till filled with cash, handed me a large bill and asked for change. Regretably, she sees those who deliver food as money managers and expect them to be able to do what she could so easily do with a little extrinsic thought.
The other example may be a bit more intrusive. A man paid with a big bill later tonight, but he used that bill after having enough small bills to pay for his food in spades. I can only imagine that, since the job of a delivery driver, is to accommodate, he expects that treatment all around; I can definitely attest to that, since he didn’t tip.
Most of these behaviors must stem from self-sustainment, reader. I veer away from the weird “survival,” since this life only requires money and not actual physical effort, but I digress. Since today’s average human being doesn’t have much use actually fighting someone, perhaps giving oneself the satisfaction of a higher societal status or manipulative behavior helps enhance self-esteem.
Too bad, reader, they don’t see what we see. Life is what it is, and it doesn’t have to be harder by making it harder. It’s already difficult on its own.


Let’s talk about disappointment for a little bit. Certainly, I can’t be mentioning issues with a Game of the Year contender without looking like an ass. Regardless, I’m doing it.
Bethesda needs a bit of help. The help isn’t challenging or even overbearing. And this help would probably be handy for all developers in the industry: test the final product on a commercial model of each console. Issues that are apparent to consumers won’t be regarded on developer kiosks, I’m sure, especially the 360 ones. They have that massive addon bit on top of it to aid in development. I really wish I knew more about the development process, because this industry is far too personal for me to start picking it apart due to one terribly executed game that’s supposed to new great.
Save file issues? Texture issues? What are testers, and what are programmers? U would imagine that PC games can be more easily developed, since computers have compensative abilities. Console games need optimization. If that sort of dedication is too challenging or not worth the time, I would much rather prefer that the effort is not put forth.
I can now forgive Bethesda for their issues, as long as they fix it. I can get through this simply because I can say what I want as a small time guy and no one will see it.
I hope, reader, that these issues with the PS3 version of Skyrim can be fixed, so I can stop grumbling and start enjoying why this game may win Game of the Year (though Uncharted 3 is going to take it, hands down).

Long delay

I’ve had a bit of time to dwell in my thoughts within the last 24 hours, finally, since I have a nice break away from school and work. This free time hasn’t been fully advantageous, but it’s been very welcome.
Within this time, I had my thoughts and my mentality thoroughly challenged in a very honest and empathetic way–a way that I needed. One person has done this, and, if that person reads this, then that person will know that “I thank you, Mr. Sexy Pants.” I love bromances.
Anyway, though my entire plan that I had structured a few weeks prior won’t be fully expressed, the lengths and wants which I will still obtain far outweigh the unreachable ones. I will earn enough money for school, I will have much more time for school, and I will also have much more free time for my freelance work; the exact schedule I has planned looks to be on track in line with my prior expectations. Indubitably, I’m very excited. I’m also fighting against myself to strengthen my mental integrity along with my emotional awareness. I really shouldn’t be framing my perspective around those who hate their own lives. It won’t help by being surrounded by those mindsets, especially since Marshall is engulfed in that mentality, but my sanity is at stake.
What can I say, reader? I can definitely say that, “Idiocy is easy to ignore.”
Here’s hopin’.

The people…

This is an impromptu writing I did while working. Even better yet, it was while I was driving. But, it fits the city of Marshall perfectly. 


The people. These people. undertoned with corruption and false pretense. But, they’re not evil, or even bad; intentionally. This village takes them, and breaks them, quietly, like a puppy in training, and the result grants a similar mindless dedication.

This village. What a horrendous place for a brain. Maybe not, with all these minds here, numbering around twelve thousand, they seem to gallivant freely and thoughtless daily. With such an easy life, why complain? Indeed, who is one mind against a sea of following leaders and opinionaters with rephrased results? To blend is to succeed in this village. This village, drearily mild and equally succumbing, stupors the mind into an easy medium for transactive interaction.

what’s one mind? In this village, anyway. Why strive for excellence when blind dedication is more rewarding? The humps in the roads of this village are as negatively fruitful as the forks in them.

Daily routine leaks from this village, oh this village, set in a stone that would impress even Moses, and leave a far more numbingly bitter oral residue. And the residue! Potent and prickly, it binds to words as a contagion would, swiftly and quietly attacking minds, and puppeteering with a gay abandon reserved for puppeteers.

This village; an easy life. Ups and downs like any other, with a hint of malice and misdemeanor. Any mind can meld with ease into this frothy and foreboding life without focal points or frictioned intention. This life. An easy village–perfectly synonymous are these two nouns now; I may taste that prickly residue now…

My brain hurts. Almost literally. It’s highly illogical for me to say that, since the brain doesn’t have pain receptors. Damn it, though, it hurts. I have a major and legitimate complaint about how television is a massive corruption, and I’m going to do my damnedest to not make it cliche or overbearing.
Glee. Oh my god. Glee. Why? Everyone is a dramatic. Is this a standard? What sort of boat did I miss in high school? The one made of broken dreams that floats down the Drama River; this river is real, it flows parallel to “de Nile.” Every character is a sociopath, and the show is glamorously perceived as brilliant television. Musicals are expressive and respectable, but filling a talented stereotype, of sorts, with vulgar dramatization is unfair, unjust, and equally disconcerting (pun intended).
This is different from watching a person shoot another person. Laws forbid acts like that, so excuses can’t happen, and the behavior of a homicidal person is not instilled through childhood upbringing. Why the hell would telling, or singing to, kids now with mentally unhealthy standards of singing to sonograms and making an infatuated student cook your wife dinner? This looming hatred toward this lack of standard is keeping me awake far too late, especially since I have to work again in 5 hours.
The singers are talented beyond measure. The message is far too clear: “life has to be this way.” It’s already out there. What can we do? Warn our families. Hide your kids and hide your wife; they’re dramatizing everything. The media and the “glow box” have the digital herpes. Much like donuts to hips, it will go straight to your brain, reader. It’s the only one you have. And no one wants to read “anti-whatever” writings about things that don’t matter. Believe me, being this irritated about Glee is definitely lowering my standards of mental content.
If only the singing could be separated from the bad and maltreated acting. Help find a cure.
And have your drama kings and queens spade and neutered, reader. They travel in packs. Or, perhaps, like crows, in murders.
Look, now I’m bantering. Good night, and don’t watch that which rots your brain. Walmart doesn’t carry replacement brains yet.

Counteractive reasoning

Multiple times in my life, I’ve been asked for advice. More often than not, that advice is not accepted, or even the advice is ignored. It’s a bit frustrating, since I would like my views respected. I’m sure not utilizing my thoughts isn’t a direct disrespect, but it’s hard not to perceive that without having justification.

Probably the most common scenario where this sort of situation resides is one about relationship issues. One asks a third party perspective to assist, and one finds a reason to not use the advice. It could be an attempt to find a cognitive dissonance to the situation. One “reasonable” notion created by Social Psychology would be that one could potentially be reasoning out potential options, as in other people with whom one could have a relationship, or one may even try to reason out all of the past events throughout the said relationship. It seems like a bunch of fooey, but when one seeks that sort of justification, the ends can’t justify the means. It’s tragic to know that people endure such behavior for acceptance for the entirety of their lives.

What can one do? Potentially instead of seeing the best in the worst, one could take the advice of a friend and see the worst in the “best.” One can only seek one’s own good in a situation like that. If it comes down to it, however, it’s best to know who one’s friends are and it’s even better to not disregard those who has one’s best interest in mind. Don’t forget, reader, that your friends value you and won’t tell you that you aren’t worth your while or the right of free thought.

Unless you are thinking of going to a Vikings game. 🙂

The more time I spend thinking about organizing thoughts and ideals is less time dedicated to my following. To what end can this possibly lead without any guidance?
All of my obligations are fighting for one time slot, but only one is giving me progress to my future; that doesn’t exclude my other options, but a guaranteed potential seems better than a vague one. But vague work brings about experience, and I need that shit in spades!
Mid afternoon is my prime time for education, and I can’t manipulate my schedule to be anything else; in fact, two classes are overlapped for me in the same time slot. I need some cooperation, and I’m going to be forcing it from my job.
Speaking of which, I’m very excited to tell my boss that my future is being hindered by this job. Oh man, it may be hard for her to see potential outside of this charming little drama-gossip hole called Marshall, MN. But, I gave up a year of my intended education time to help her, and I’ve received maltreatment and disrespect. I’m not obligated slightly. I want my life fully engrossed in school and PSU.
Next semester will be constrained with time, but I know what I want and where I want my time dedicated. Here’s to a better upcoming semester.

Frustration block

A combination of aspects within my life are almost forcing me to be close minded and not ambitious. I run between school, work, and Playstation Universe, and I don’t have time for me or my muse. Surely, I signed up for all of this, in a sense. So, why do I complain?
I need money, and the only place I’m earning it is through my stupid ass job at Jimmy John’s. I need my education, and SMSU is the only venue in which I’m learning. I also need credibility, and I’m earning that through PSU. But, what can I do with only 24 hours in a day? I can only cut back my hours at work to help divide my resources. The thought doesn’t elude me even slightly, but I also am no longer receiving tip money, since all I’m currently good for is being an underpaid manager that watches all the terrible delivery drivers earn all the money in the world.
I suppose my biggest issue would be of circumstance. Too much happening at once, but all of those things are important to my sustainability. On the other hand, I have my mental integrity to consider. Since my “father” is a schizophrenic, I’m 12 times more susceptible to becoming a schizophrenic. Every day, I think about this. I don’t know how I could handle losing my cognitive functioning to something that would disillusion me so very terribly; the prime time for it to occur is in my age group.
On top of all of this, I haven’t had respect at my job since late summer. While I was on vacation with my muse in Wisconsin, someone at work gossiped that Crystal started rumors about, well, something or other that was “a big deal.” We hadn’t had a vacation in 15 years, and this was how we were received upon return. Our boss even chewed out Crystal without proof or credibility for “doing what she did,” and though she said everyone needed a chewing, our boss never said anything else to anyone on the subject. A month before, we had helped reopen our store after a major storm, and we did it without pay. I can’t come back to my former mindset after that scenario.
Everyday I think and ponder, and everyday I worry and fret about what I should be doing. I’m bond myself leading me, who is also blind, and I’m not getting anywhere. Always a deficiency here, always a problem there, and I can’t dedicate my time to the things I want to do, like write and game. Sure, I play games for PSU, but that takes up the three hours of free time I have in a day. Which is fine, I suppose. I want all of this. I really do.
Maybe I should find a way to healthily sleep less. It’s only MY sanity. It’s obviously not appreciable enough to consider in the long run.
That’s an unfair statement. I can’t expect everyone to know why I’m so paranoid or antisocial. And I don’t exactly go out on a limb to know how others are doing either. So, I deserve it, I’m sure.
But, reader, don’t be surprised if I call you “sir” or “ma’am.” If I’m at arm’s length, you will be as well.