Ironic Drugs, Update.
Don’t even ask if I managed to stay off caffeine. You know the answer without even asking.
Don’t even ask if I managed to stay off caffeine. You know the answer without even asking.
I bring to you today a story of immense irony.
I am a man who is vehemently against the use of recreational drugs. I think all this drug use in America is the product of an incredibly skewed social system that rewards ruining your life, as well as a whole group of people that I call ‘losers’. ‘Losers’ whom are unable to live their lives properly without a certain drug because they don’t have the mental capacity to cope with the difficulties of life.
And yet I find myself a drug user.
In a conversation with a person in which I was rationalizing my overconsumption of caffeine as ‘not mind-state-altering’ I stumbled on my words in a stupid realization. The whole point of caffeine in modern society is to ‘get yourself going’, raise yourself from a low state of ‘mental energy’ to a higher state. Interesingly this sounds a lot like many other drugs that you will hear people discussing in the conversations that you don’t want to have all that much to do with.
Once I had reached this accidental revelation I decided to due a little introspection, still under the influence of caffeine of course. I looked back to the many days I had spent feeling depressed, sprawled in my desk chair not wanting to do much of anything, not unlike how I felt about 2 hours ago (at the time of writing). This seems to happen primarily because of the ‘crash’ associated with caffeine and the like.
With a little more thought I realized it follows the same pattern of emotional states as many recreational drugs (if you are in a generally depressed mood at least). That is, you start with a feeling of being ‘pumped’, what I described today as ‘Kickass Awesome’. Then as caffeine seems to increase your ability to have thoughts go through your mind with some speed, thoughts start to pile up in you mind over time, and eventually something detrimental to your mood will come along and surprise you. Naturally in this state where you seem to be able to think incredibly fast, all kinds of threads spin off from that and about 15 minutes later you feel like sprawling in your desk chair and not doing much of anything.
Of course I also have a literary reference that I can make to this situation as well. I’ve recently read small bits of the book *Pure Sunshine* by Brian James. In it the main character, whose name escapes me because of the erratic nature in which I read the book (more irony is afoot) holds contempt for those ‘losers’ that do drugs like PCP, Crack-cocaine, and MDMA (Ecstasy). Of course the character himself is an avid LSD user. If you look up a few paragraphs you might see a similar hypocritical way of thought that parallels this.
So I’ve decided now to go cold turkey on PEPSI. I’m already getting terrible cravings and I’ve been avoiding it for a whole 5 hours. I’m probably going to wake up tomorrow in a cold sweat and bound out of my bed and realize that I’m not going to drink anymore PEPSI only once I’ve opened the can and think, “well just one can’t hurt.”
And of course it will.
So as anyone who has actually read this blog knows (all zero of you), I challenged myself to write something everyday, and post it on my blog, under the category “(K)nightly Writings”. I kept this up for two days, before the mental stress of coming up with something worth writing about taxed me to the point where I couldn’t write (just two days, my god). Then I went on an 8 day long vacation in a town quite far away, with limited computer supplies, such that I couldn’t write at all.
I’ve decided, from this entire experience (of two days, and many spent agonizing over not writing) that I will continue with the project, in an attempt to yes, improve my English skills. However I’m going to relax the requirements (on myself), in that I’ll no longer try to post every night, but post whenever I have written something (but not let myself hold things back anymore).
Hopefully this project will last longer than two days.
This is what I came up with, after stuggling to think of some kind of interesting plot for a few hours. It’s intended to be a sort of interview of a person who somehow ends up on something like ‘60 Minutes’ after some kind of long conflict on a planet made up of a race of people who all have the ability to manipulate time. Pretty neat-o if I do say so myself:
“I was a young baby, not much older than a year and half old when it first happened, I skipped through time. As I recall, hazily, as I was very young after all, I jumped in time from 1:33:35 PM to 1:33:37 PM (GMT -8). Perhaps surprisingly to you though, this was an entirely normal event for a child of our world. I was actually late in developing my ability to time travel in this way, most kids are able to do a 2 second jump, and correct for the rotation of the planet by the time they’re about 1 year old. I suppose you could say I was a slow child in that respect if you wanted.
Ah, you think being able to time-travel would cause problems? I suppose you’re right. There is a reason we have an infant mortality rate higher than humans after all. For example, if I tried to jump about in time right now, blindly going places, I might end up with my body strangely inside something else. What ends up happening is called a ‘minor time accident’. Our time travelling mechanism, which I’m not supposed to fully explain, relies to an extent on the creation of a special kind of wormhole. This wormhole, opening on the destination side, pushes everything out of the way. Meaning that if you travel into a wall for example, the wall is going to be literally blown to pieces.
So Naturally there’s some rules governing our time travel. They aren’t written down anywhere, mostly because it would be nearly impossible to enforce them, but practical and common-sense rules, agreed on by a sort of consensus, mostly of people who would prefer to be alive. The most common rule is that you are never, under any circumstances, supposed to travel to a time or place where you’re unsure what might actually be there. Say you travel into a brick wall like we mentioned before? Because of the refactory period associated with out time travel you wouldn’t be able to get out immediately, you would probably be crushed under the weight of the remaining wall falling on top of you.
All this leads up to how I actually got here, I assure you, but there’s much more to explain before that…”
It is 4:40 AM. I’m listening to music that at anyother time would be entirely unbearable, in the last 4 hours I’ve watched more than (obtained 100% legally) anime and read more (obtained 100% legally) manga than most people have read, or rather, should read, in their entire lives. I have not talked to someone in person since 9:30 PM yesterday, the last time I actually talked to someone (over the internet of course) was more than 2 hours ago. In other words, it’s just been a normal day.
I have a strange feeling in the back of mind as I do this though. I’ve been out of contact with people for over 2 hours now, I feel as if I could be part of some kind of strange social experiment turned hollywood blockbuster. I imagine a panning shot pulling out of the view point of my eyes to reveal my desk, lit solely by a single lamp, and the light my monitors emit, to be encompassed by a pure and never-ending field of darkness. Being completely absorbed in my computers though, I haven’t noticed. By some kind of hollywood logic, even in this world with nothing but darkness, the internet still exists and functions properly.
This being a hollywood film of course, after about 5 minutes of dramatic music, opening credits, and dramatic panning shots of me in my world of darkness, I begin to realize what has happened. I begin to dig through all the news sites, looking for any evidence as to what actually happened. After several intense panning shots of me typing with incredible speed and looking disturbed, I realize that by some strange force, the Earth, and not just the Earth, but the entire Universe had begun to unravel. Somehow, my exact position allowed me to survive the event, and leave me stranded, at the end of time.
In a strange twist of fate, the last remaining human, and possibly being of our universe, is a nerd. In fact more importantly than that. I am the, “Last of the Nerds“.
I am in a constant and desparate search of ways to improve my writing. My works are often short, but not neccesarily concise, not to mention written in this annoying condescending tone I can never manage to really get myself rid of. As it stands right now, writing anything requires a lot of my effort on my part, constantly checking to make sure what I’m typing actually makes sense. Ninety percent of the time it doesn’t, and the other ten percent of the time it lackluster at best.
In an attempt to squeeze at least one percent of good writing out of my limited skills, I am starting a new project. For the forseeable future (which actually means until school starts again) I will post my nightly writing. The thing that I inevitably end up writing as I begin to feel the effects of sleep deprivation, that night. Most of it is utter crap, which more than an hour later makes literally no sense. My nightly writings actually defined the term, ‘nonsense’. Posting this on the internet of though, were more than one person (that person being me) might actually read my work, forces me to make what I’m writing at least make sense, if not be somewhat enjoyable.
Of course, this being a blog, this needs a name (mostly so it can be fit into a neat category and be filed off with everything else). You might think I would go with simply, “Nightly Writings”, but that’s much too bland, I need a little variety in my life after all. Rather, the name of this project will be, “(K)nightly Writings”. Which as you can quite plainly tell is quite a departure from what you were expecting.
(The irony of this, is that this post on it’s doesn’t make an overabundance of sense on its own.)
After eight agonizing days of waiting, my shirt named ‘It Came Out of Nowhere’ from shirt.woot.com has arrived. I found it in my mailbox this afternoon, delicately packaged in it’s floppy branded ‘envelope’. I quickly tore at the packaging, failing to open it with my bare hands, likely because of my complete and total lack of physical strength. I changed strategies and began attacking it with a screwdriver, making sure not to damage the precious contents. The contents were finally free to be seen by my eyes, and slowly let the funk of my home’s air seep into its fabrics.
I was struck by the beauty of the shirt. The vibrant shades of gray, carefully printed onto a t-shirt base made of an absolutely astoundingly designed mottled gray pattern. The graphic on the shirt itself portrays “Doc’s” DeLorean DMC-12 crashed into the TARDIS, which no doubt was a horrifying time accident for all involved to have seen.
The quality of the shirt extends even to those annoying scratching tags on the inside of the shirt, shirt.woot, in their ever humourous, and always no caps style gives you helpful instructions on how to wash, and if needed, even how to wear your shirt. For anyone as yet uninformed, shirt.woot T-shirts are ‘not for use as pants’.
There are many unintended consequences of failed relationships. Some people end up with previously non-existent debts, and feeling as if a part of their being has been ripped from themself. And many many more.
One of the most noticeable, after the emotional side-effects of course, is the ability to relate with romantic comedies. The is most prevalent in people who’ve just gotten out of their first failed relationship. Naturally they end up watching all kinds of movies and television series with some romantic component, as after all, they probably feel dead inside, and want to do nothing but lay on their couch and stare at a flickering screen. Such a person will notice that parts of a series they never noticed before are immediately obvious to them now.
Take my favorite example so far, after spending some 2 weeks loafing around my house doing an uneccesarry amount of absolutely nothing, I decided to watch the movie ‘Shaun of the Dead’. In it Shaun’s girlfriend breaks up with him (before the outbreak of zombies) claiming that Shaun was boring, and that she didn’t want to end up like everyone else that went to the Winchester everyday. The latter is obviously case-specific, but at the time the former struck a chord with my heart and I immediately thought, “I get exactly how you feel Shaun”. Of course I shed a single manly tear, as would any other manly man do in the same manly situation.
To illustrate my point I will quote a conversation I had with a friend who himself has recently experienced an awful breakup. (This conversation of course, occurred over an instant messaging protocol, as all of my substantial conversations tend to take place.)
desuism: having gone through a somewhat crappy relationship
desuism: you will now be able to relate to romantic comedies
desuism: and much more of pop culture will make sense to you
*******: ya, i’ve noticed that
This block of text may even be the inspiration for this article. I won’t admit to it, but I certainly won’t deny the fact.
This phenomenon does seem to be relatively common however, I’ve checked with many a depressed man to prove my point and it seems to be a nearly universal thing.
As I said before, there are many many unintended consequences to a person’s first relationship, and inevitable first breakup.