Morose Endevours

I have nothing really to report today

Nothing in particular to speak about and no mad or strage thought developments whatsoever

Between yesterday and today's blog, I haven't really done anything new or exciting. I went to class, came home and got drunk. Well, tipsy anyway. I'm far to self-aware to get hammered these days. I pretty much always keep track of what I'm doing and what I say in general. I just tend to say stuff I usually do but with a slur.

So I went to this bar yesterday that can only be described as a cesspool of repetitive rock music and piss poor taste. But on the plus, it has the highest concentration of short girls I have ever witnessed. That's always good to observe, if nothing else.

It also had three people wandering around among the dead who I actually quite know well from being in the same haunt years ago, but never really get around to talking to much these days. They are stuck in a rut, in a fad, in a phase. All three never passed their teens it seems. It's funny to think that teenagers in all their rebelliousness have such conservative natures. Natures that claw at them so much, they never quite grow up and are against any form of development. Anything that can be classed as outgoing, fun or different, or a welcome change even, these lost teenagers (all in their late 20's at least) are sure to dislike. What was I even doing there? Cheap booze. Sad, I know.

Also in the ranks of these people were a bunch of wife-beater, urban combat wearing skin heads, all of about 19-23 years, terrible tattoos, led by a gigantic ignoramus who I'm sure the majority of people I know would know well too. Apparently, these are a bunch of racists and bigots, as word would have it. It always astounds me that the very people who want to conserve the Caucasian race are always the worst examples of it. Thank feck their silly, short sighted and ignorant intentions are bound to fall flat on it's face. Remember, it's survival of the fittest... those who would mix and gel and swell out the gene pool. Racists are destined to genetically implode if they don't die of massive cholesterol problems first. Either fate is too good for them I figure. One looked primed to smother in his own beard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A brief rant on Nostalgia

Nostalgia is a good feeling all around. You can't have bad nostalgia. You can't say, "aww, remember we were at that gig and that big bear-looking guy broke your nose? you were wearing Hugo Boss, that's what that smell reminds me of". It doesn't happen. Just like in 5 years time, if you had made no effort to go out and socialise and meet people and expand your horizons you would be less inclined to say "aww, remember that time I was playing World of Warcraft and I became a level 20 mage while drinking a bottle of cheap piss from Tesco and ignoring all my friends asking me to come out? I was wearing Lynx* Apollo. That's what that smell reminds me of".

It's a fact that if you don't stay on top of your game, doing stuff, meeting friends, old and new and generally trying to enjoy the 50 or so years left of your life, you are going to have no good memories to rely on and run out of that unique feeling of nostalgia that naturally raises the morale of anyone who can call themselves human. You will become that person who gives out about everything and can only remember how much you avoided everything, secretly regretting it while holding onto the "I don't care" attitude. Apparently those who lack experience can be condescending too, it seems.

I mean, you may be in a position where you are sick or unable to come out naturally and you know, that's all right. A person could lack the ability but not the will to go out and live a bit. However, using things like weight, looks, confidence or just sheer laziness or neglect are not reasons for giving up on life. You may have just finished a relationship or lost a friend or relative, but the news is, life keeps on going. You gotta keep up and remember that there are billions out there feeling exactly like you. Point blank refusing to do things is not only giving up on those who would like your company, but on the unique feeling you get when your senses trigger off the memory and you get to live it again. That's like living twice compared to the one time you'll sit at home grieving your unwillingness to participate in life.

Get of your arses people! There is a pint waiting for ya!

Just make sure it's not guarded by lurking heavy metal conservatives or genetically doomed racists. Run!

*I believe Lynx is known as Axe in other countries