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And the alien did decree: "and ride her like the beast she is"
I know why I - Didn't take my meds in the morning. Meds are still comprised of a mood stabilizer and an anti-depressant; nighttime meds include 4 vitamins (all high doses), an anti-psychotic, the mood thing, and The Monthly Gore Fest controller. Re: I am a lonely soul Mostly, I blame the timing of my meds; I took them at 7 PM, instead of noon, or earlier. This means that the high of the morning was just me, and not the meds. Placeeeeebo: I wanted a good morning, so I damn well had one. Even if I forgot the thing that supposedly causes them; it could even be that since I've had the A-D's every morning, my body reacted as if it was still happening. I partly blame watching The Great Dictator, alone, near the end of my day. Over all, it was a really good -- really thoughtful -- movie. What was Chaplin worried about, with the talkies? Hearing voices didn't hinder my experience; call me unintellectual, if you must, but -- the story really needed that dialogue. Chaplin could have ROCKED the talkie film industry. Dictator was proof that he could actually make something great: funny, inspiring, somewhat prophetic.. this was a real good one. I feel somehow more aware of life, the more I encounter stuff like this. It was the ending that seized my mood. Captured it, let it fry a little in an oil of despair. The ending is a few posts back; the speech is fucking awesome. Overly gentle, and optimistic.. but, somehow rather awe invoking. Especially when you consider that Chaplin had the balls to do this WHILE HITLER WAS IN POWER. Not only was it rejected initially -- it quickly became a major classic. A fine, fine piece of work. Why the ending bothered me: I had no one to share the afterglow with. I nattered at Shi-nae-nae until she responded to me on MSN, then proceeded to launch in to one of my Inspiring Monologues (of Doom). [See last entry.] We were both tired; I know that she took this one to heart, even though it really was a rehash of a rant I had a year or so ago. Maybe a little more updated, with more logic driving it. I know that our letters to each other will one day be that passionate and heartfelt. We're the sort that commiserates over the misery that is the Global Citizenry we call the Internet. The world is at our fingertips; we're bored senseless, and we're being driven out of our oasis-es by trolls and management deciding that the target membership ought to be 13-. We are being left to meander the internet; is this totally a bad thing? We need to encounter people we wouldn't like; keeps us appreciating our real friends. The internet is giving way to a sterilized way of being. Isolation, physically; popularity and success, digitally. We sit at home, and type out our thoughts -- unheard, unsung, and un-memorably. We are becoming our own little pockets of self-reliance. I ask You, citizens of the net: what the hell do you do, when you're on the computer? I hope it's more than what I do. -I look for penpals, most of whom I will never talk to beyond 3 emails, because they eventually forget me Mostly, life on the internet is getting stale; the Chans are getting sadder, all the time -- where the hell did the literate, witty bastards of lore go? Big D lost them; I'll never find them. We have to realize something, methinks: we are alone. We are alone because we're always at home. People like me need to get functional enough to get a job. Before it's too late. |
You Missed: *DISCLAIMER Backlog:
Badly type text - Wednesday, Jan. 01, 2020 Yet another other entry - Sunday, Dec. 29, 2019 Damn near died - Sunday, Dec. 29, 2019 Boom Shalacka Lacka? - Saturday, Dec. 28, 2019 Circa 2010 |
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