POLL -- are you improving the world, or making it worse?
$Zero
IOW: are you an artist or a drivel-merchant?
if you're a drivel-merchant, don't take the criticism so personal.
instead, use your position to become an artist.
the world doesn't need any more plumbers who fuck up the plumbing.
-$Zero...
what's the best t-shirt printing company you've ever dealt with?
http://groups.google.com/group/misc.writing/msg/129a1fef78bb3e44
Bill
> POLL -- are you improving the world, or making it worse?
I am trying to improve the world right now. Here
is how: I was attacked by a notorious drivel
merchant crawling around a group under a phony
name. Suffice it to say that his mind is very feeble
at this time. I have had trouble with this attention
starved misfit before. This time, instead of lashing
back at him, I have offered to send him a carton
filled with rare books. As lowly and miserable as
this unfortunate is, I believe that coming into contact
with these wonderful volumes will bring about a
sea change in his warped personality. He can
learn and grow as a human being -- or, maybe
I should say, "He can learn and GROW INTO
a human being," because he would seem to be
something less than that now. When he has
developed some semblance of cognitive power,
it is possible that he can become a productive
member of the same forums where he has long
annoyed others with silly flames and his
shabby .attempts at humor. His mind may
be beyond reclamation, but I like to believe
that there is a spark of something there,
which may be ignited into actual thought.,
[Memo from the upstairs office.]
deflated
>
> - Show quoted text -
Poll: am i improving the world, or making it worse?
Whose world?
I had an imitation answer to Bill's response (a. i don't care if its a
cop-out, some of my best writing has come from that first imitation
draft, and b. You are a good writer Bill. I like that. Fancy that, a
writer, on a writing blog, who feels the idiotic need to exclaim: hey!
I like good writing.
I lost the poetic imitation that described how i felt about the world
and the cyniscism that i fought for so long but is now overcoming me
completley, yet i think i still have some of my niave soul left
somewhere in me: that whole humanity thing.
But, then I lost it. I lose a lot of things. I'm losing my mind.
Literally, the family wants to check me into Western Psych, (well half
of the family), lost my job, lose my smokes my keys my shoes my cat my
w2s lighters wedding ring sock chapstick something that was important
and belonged to someone else. lose money, lose friends (everyone
leaves, there is just no gettin round it) lose my sense of humor
patience control. That all sucks. It's in my genes to lose things a
little more often then most people, but it happens to me almost every
hour. And I (or whatever kind spirit can't stand the show) of my
distress) find said tangible item, and on the rare occasion the other
bullshit that ... fuck. this is why i don't keep a blog. Who cares,
yes?
Point being, I can lose a lot, but when I lost my words I want to bang
my head through the computer screen in hopes that they are magically
floating inside this nasty little box. Even if its the shittiest of
shit first draft nonsense (ugh... don't lnow about swearing policies,
if anyone wants to let me know. Either that or i'll just try and cool
my jets and find more creativity ways to fill space.
I was diagnosed with bibliomania yesterday by my shrink. first
diagnosis i like to brag about.
but now i'm in a completley different state of mind, yes zero, things
change <insert drastically overused saying here about "change
itself". i'm in a foreign enviroment. good and bad. my ipod, my
phone, my laptop, and my camera (the only am a nasty consumerist
about-- other than my books and things of paper), all the batteries
died within an hour of each other. which is really no big deal. I
was wasting time exploring the wonders of functions and angles and
shadows and the power of photographed words and books and photo's of
those old physical glossy and sensitve things produced from film (does
anyone miss hours alone in the dark room, finding peace, in high
school of all places. Need a dark room. ramble on.) Neat pictures
though if anyone want's image's to develop for webpage or something.
(Screwed with the headline on an old magazine: "The failure of your
imagination." when you get to playin around with words (period, word
play is my breakfast, lunch and snack for dinner) with a finely tuned
digital camera and know something about the way lighting and slant
and, etc affects one's "creation"? So i have combos of failure, fail
imagination, different sizes and degrees and trickery with color and
saturation. My favorite from that particular phrase (and there were
many more, 2G's of sandisk filled with pictures of words and books)...
favorite is "The imagination of your failure." I got lucky with the
formatted layout of the mag and just had to twist oddly to not start
clipping. But still bad mood. lost work and words, succinct and not
a bitchfest that is by no means what i want considered "writing." And
just in case you guys don't already feel like i'm the annoying person
who has no one else to talk to so she wastes our time and space with
long useless and rambling paragraphs..... (all it will take is for two
of you to simply say shut up), in case you haven't been enlightened by
the life changing and wrapped up (insert bad adjective) dimension i
can't seem to escape since i've been "sick". Iritating euphamisms.
My asshole is also bleading profusley and i'm scared shitless.
Hemroids don't stain the first pair of new pants (kacki's just cause
fate loves me so) you've bought in in over a year (and that was cause
i had a gift card from christmas and maybe i'm net getting hired
because the size twenty pants i was wearing to interviews were weirdly
bunched and strained from a tight belt. I am now a siz 14. bam
biggity!! got out the one box that i did allow to keep of the best
of the skinny clothes i will most likely never fit into again, and now
my wardrobe has doubled.
So, when I was working, leaving my house, cohearent and not in a state
of psychosis, I would say that yes, i could actually be positively
changing the world when i pulled strings or even just listened to
patients/ clients/ even coworkers and would respond in my style of
certifiable by my own experiences, empathy, the gratitude of someone
paying attention and saying good luck, or hell, even, thanks and have
a good evening.
No one has manners anymore. I said "bless you" to a woman sitting
close to me on the bus yesterday, and she turned and gave me what i
have always imagined as THE evil eye, mastered and capable of your
flght or flight response synapes to crackle. and this woman, after i
turned away from such evil eyes said, "no thank you. the lasting thing
i want is a blessing because i have a sinus issue. Especially from a
white girl/child who probably doesn't even understand what common
mannerism of this culter *such as "bless you" after an excretion of
spitm and mucous from your mouth. You don't know what a blessing is.
And by the rare chance you do, you don't know the why people say it.
And on the occasion that you do know those things ( what, maybe a 3
percent chance. trully you girls wouldn't know a blessing if it was
burnt into your forehead. I don't believe in any santa clause god
dropin' blessin's down my black chimney any time soon. ((( now, here,
at at this point in our "conversation" (meaning my mouth was trying to
attract flies and i paused my ipod thinking - **ah, perhaps a simple
"bless you" to someone who could really use a blessing might make a
positive difference in the world, or at least her world for a few
minutes**) was where her voice raised another two octives and i do
believe her ass did have to leave the seat for her to be in the angry
body language posture she had built up to. at this point in the
personally dubbed occasion, "the 54C between center ave and liberty
incident" i'm flabergasted and my ears are crying of longing for the
dangling headphones hanging below my hanging jaw) and i don't believe
that there is any logical reason for you to think that such a sign of
human grossness ((( yes, her majesty had no better word than
grossness ))) sprayed upon the seat in front of me makes a girl,
(italics there) be so disrespectful of her elders to just announce
herself and comand (italics agan--- there must be a way to format
online. I live on Ctrl i) ..."and %COMAND\ me to feel
blessed......" Which was when John and Paul were back inside me
letting me know, here comes the sun, it's alright. I wonder what the
devil woman would have to say to Yoko and a nice relaxing day naked in
white for a cause, or what she would have said to John when he was
"disrespectful enough to comand (ctrl i)" that war is over. if you
want it.
umm.... because i feel guilty for my horible verbosity, especially
during what i have named "the era of what the fuck" (which was
proceeded by "these are our endless listacompalessed [meaning endless
lists never accomplished, word number eighty something in the "Expect
Several Additions eCtionary"] and before that were the post it days,
prior was "f off"." Screw whatever dangling point i was tying to make
or whatever.
god. i'm leaving now.
people change the world everyday by waking up. If i had gone to sleep
last night my friend's parents (whom i haven't seen since we graduated
and she moved to nyc) nice white sheets would be victim of ass
trouble. which could lead to bleach burn or a mattress stains that
cost way to much and by some insanley bizarre hypothetical situation
caused a large fight b/w jo and i and then i could die and what would
happen to my writing if the person designated the ONLY one to have
access to the burden of endless paper fires waiting to happen-- or
books and acceptable things for family and friends to read, and then
it could be a case of emily dickensen and my fear of, or desire not to
bear my soul (except durring a manic episode on a google group because
i am in my era of wtf. So... perhaps then i could change the world.
Perhaps the man i stopped from walking durring the red thus dodging
the car will find a cure for aids. perhaps the next person i say
bless you to will be blessed.
as for right now. if someone were to disapear me, the people in my
life would be heartbroken, but they would get over it and everyone
would be much better of for it.
tata kids.
apologies. i'll come on later and like make a link to the long and
unformated paragraphs and run ons.
I think.... can I suggest a new topic. Yes think i can. Lets see if
anyone likes or pays attention to me. (i should prolly read like the
"abuot google groups" link or something. never done one.
i'm twenty four. no three. and by the time i am thirty, my "paper" of
endless research that i obsess over will prove that i have been right
all along about the google conspiricy. really goin now
Cleverly done
"deflated" <erin...@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:6ff2e105-d733-4132...@o77g2000hsf.googlegroups.com...
tata kids.
(forgive this bottom posting)
I could not agree more. You know, it's always something.
--CD