If I may reiterate my distaste for the internets...
It really isn't that I oppose that interwebs to their core, or that I have not benefited from their existence in many many ways (comics, funny cartoons, 25.3 GB of free porn). It is rather one specific aspect of the nets which inter that I resent : meeting people.
As it is I prefer a life of solitude, whiling my days away with what few associates I have. Perhaps taking in some fine literature, playing the occasional video game, or watching a classic movie ( Goosebumps, Barbie Horse Adventure, Bio-Dome). If you should come across me at a party congratulations are in order, you found fucking Waldo. And much like parties, the intraweb inspires my green thumb, and my propensity for wall gardening. I refrain from the term "wall flower" because I prefer "wall Venus fly trap" to describe myself. When someone shows an interest in me, perhaps in my innocent trappings or my sweet aroma, I capture them. And in turn let them capture me and bring me out to, risking a cliche, bloom a little.
You see, I don't like putting myself out too far. Not because of how I might look to others, but because of how I might view myself. I see people with profile pics sporting come hither looks and very little else. I read comments about how "fine someone is" and how the commenter would like to "hit up" the commented "sometime." I notice people on sites for a span of a month or two and get more hits than a women's rights activist in a bible belt home (I'm sorry, I mean wymyn's...:::cough Qwants.com and etymology cough::: ). I see these things and am reminded of nature documentaries on the various displays of sexual interest and potency during animal mating rituals. Part of me just can't help but laugh at the silly monkeys, feeling the pride of evolutionary superiority. Another party of me wants to choke the chimps because I just can't DO these things. And I have to admit that part of my umbrage is fueled by envy. Really begs the question of who evolution played the cruel joke on doesn't it?
Honestly, I have been known to post naked pics of myself (tasteful and artsy of course), send the occasional friend request to an attractive girl, and even post psuedo-intellectual blog/rants to try to bring attention to myself (::: rocks back and forth on balls of feet, hands behind back, eyes to the clouds, whistling::: ). But all of these have been half-hearted efforts. I simply do not have the patience or drive to meet people, and I feel, to a small degree, that it isn't their fault.
I don't talk, pursue, flirt, pester, or in general bother anyone. Permeating distaste for contact cocktail: one part childhood ridicule, one part fear of rejection, two parts lack of patience, a dash of being all thumbs, mix in a cool shaker and have for lunch to drown out the pain of having to work for the republican national committee... man I went off on a tangent.
Back to the ever fleeting subject, what gets me more is that I know people who actually meet people on the nets which intra. People which tame this wild beast, who succeed at its trials and tribulations, and who have savvy which would make captain Jack Sparrow blush. Hell, I know people who receive the euphemistic "permission to board" and who, in fact, "make it so." All I can do is smile, a glint of green in my eye, and shake my head... I hate the fucking internet.
And all the while I simply can't bring myself to put it on the line, so to speak. At the very same time the idea of meeting new people excites me. Exchanging ideas and jokes. Intellectual debates and witty retorts! Naked picture solicitations from girls who you hope aren't minors (am I kidding?) Ah the very possibility of it all fills my soul with such vigor that I feel a license to soar... then I realize that it's the god-damned-inter-line... also all this would require effort and time. Both of which I am wasting on other endeavors, like bitching and moaning.
Well, I am gonna wrap this up. Not like anyone is going to reach this far. God, why don't I write a live journal poem about it, pussy emo kid.
Ian
(PS: if you did make it this far, why? Just go look at some porn and have fun. Naw, I'm just kidding. But seriously, boobies await...)
(PPS special ending for SG only, this may very well be one of the most honest things I have ever written).
It really isn't that I oppose that interwebs to their core, or that I have not benefited from their existence in many many ways (comics, funny cartoons, 25.3 GB of free porn). It is rather one specific aspect of the nets which inter that I resent : meeting people.
As it is I prefer a life of solitude, whiling my days away with what few associates I have. Perhaps taking in some fine literature, playing the occasional video game, or watching a classic movie ( Goosebumps, Barbie Horse Adventure, Bio-Dome). If you should come across me at a party congratulations are in order, you found fucking Waldo. And much like parties, the intraweb inspires my green thumb, and my propensity for wall gardening. I refrain from the term "wall flower" because I prefer "wall Venus fly trap" to describe myself. When someone shows an interest in me, perhaps in my innocent trappings or my sweet aroma, I capture them. And in turn let them capture me and bring me out to, risking a cliche, bloom a little.
You see, I don't like putting myself out too far. Not because of how I might look to others, but because of how I might view myself. I see people with profile pics sporting come hither looks and very little else. I read comments about how "fine someone is" and how the commenter would like to "hit up" the commented "sometime." I notice people on sites for a span of a month or two and get more hits than a women's rights activist in a bible belt home (I'm sorry, I mean wymyn's...:::cough Qwants.com and etymology cough::: ). I see these things and am reminded of nature documentaries on the various displays of sexual interest and potency during animal mating rituals. Part of me just can't help but laugh at the silly monkeys, feeling the pride of evolutionary superiority. Another party of me wants to choke the chimps because I just can't DO these things. And I have to admit that part of my umbrage is fueled by envy. Really begs the question of who evolution played the cruel joke on doesn't it?
Honestly, I have been known to post naked pics of myself (tasteful and artsy of course), send the occasional friend request to an attractive girl, and even post psuedo-intellectual blog/rants to try to bring attention to myself (::: rocks back and forth on balls of feet, hands behind back, eyes to the clouds, whistling::: ). But all of these have been half-hearted efforts. I simply do not have the patience or drive to meet people, and I feel, to a small degree, that it isn't their fault.
I don't talk, pursue, flirt, pester, or in general bother anyone. Permeating distaste for contact cocktail: one part childhood ridicule, one part fear of rejection, two parts lack of patience, a dash of being all thumbs, mix in a cool shaker and have for lunch to drown out the pain of having to work for the republican national committee... man I went off on a tangent.
Back to the ever fleeting subject, what gets me more is that I know people who actually meet people on the nets which intra. People which tame this wild beast, who succeed at its trials and tribulations, and who have savvy which would make captain Jack Sparrow blush. Hell, I know people who receive the euphemistic "permission to board" and who, in fact, "make it so." All I can do is smile, a glint of green in my eye, and shake my head... I hate the fucking internet.
And all the while I simply can't bring myself to put it on the line, so to speak. At the very same time the idea of meeting new people excites me. Exchanging ideas and jokes. Intellectual debates and witty retorts! Naked picture solicitations from girls who you hope aren't minors (am I kidding?) Ah the very possibility of it all fills my soul with such vigor that I feel a license to soar... then I realize that it's the god-damned-inter-line... also all this would require effort and time. Both of which I am wasting on other endeavors, like bitching and moaning.
Well, I am gonna wrap this up. Not like anyone is going to reach this far. God, why don't I write a live journal poem about it, pussy emo kid.
Ian
(PS: if you did make it this far, why? Just go look at some porn and have fun. Naw, I'm just kidding. But seriously, boobies await...)
(PPS special ending for SG only, this may very well be one of the most honest things I have ever written).
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
we should hang tomorrow. maybe watch one of those movies that doesnt leave you with a completely indifferent feeling lodged deep inside of your skull like an axe.