Dammit.
Just lost a whole long post when Firefox crashed. Isn't it supposed to be more stable than IE?
Right, okay, what I was working around to was that I was thinking about Stashbuster Bill while I was working on some mind-numbing kinda shit at the job and jotted this down on some poor bastard's BOM:
You're not big enough to be anything that you're not already. There's not enough of you to become anything you haven't already become.
And I think that's what bothered me so much about the pretty, popular kids in school, so very many years ago, and what's continued to bother me about the pretty, popular people that I keep stumbling across in the world. They're done, y'know? They've already crested the peak of the world, they've become king of the hill. They've got nothing left to shoot for, nothing left to fight for. Whatever battles they might've had to have fought quietly disintegrated in the face of perfect bone structure and nice teeth. The poor fuckers were perfect out of the box and never had a chance to move past any deficiencies and struggle and learn and grow strong.
I think I mean that. Really. I mean, I've hated the pretty and the perfect for as long as I can recall, have resented the smooth and even and symetrical, have always been drawn towards the freaks, the pervs, the grinning, laughing, crying, screaming castoffs that had to fight, and, having fought, learned to ignore that societal urge to become smooth and perfect and beautiful and moved on to lives that made them more than they'd been before and more than their pretty and perfect contemporaries could ever hope to be.
I dunno. Not really a point to this one. Just some random, burbling bullshit running across the inside of my head and I figured I'd share. If you're one of the pretty, perfect folk, and you're reading this, then I apologize. Not for my words, which are true and can't be apologized for, but for not giving you a harder time when I run across you in my world, and maybe give you a shot at being something more than you are. At offering you that one chance to be something truly remarkable, rather than something simply nice to look at.
G'night.
Just lost a whole long post when Firefox crashed. Isn't it supposed to be more stable than IE?
Right, okay, what I was working around to was that I was thinking about Stashbuster Bill while I was working on some mind-numbing kinda shit at the job and jotted this down on some poor bastard's BOM:
You're not big enough to be anything that you're not already. There's not enough of you to become anything you haven't already become.
And I think that's what bothered me so much about the pretty, popular kids in school, so very many years ago, and what's continued to bother me about the pretty, popular people that I keep stumbling across in the world. They're done, y'know? They've already crested the peak of the world, they've become king of the hill. They've got nothing left to shoot for, nothing left to fight for. Whatever battles they might've had to have fought quietly disintegrated in the face of perfect bone structure and nice teeth. The poor fuckers were perfect out of the box and never had a chance to move past any deficiencies and struggle and learn and grow strong.
I think I mean that. Really. I mean, I've hated the pretty and the perfect for as long as I can recall, have resented the smooth and even and symetrical, have always been drawn towards the freaks, the pervs, the grinning, laughing, crying, screaming castoffs that had to fight, and, having fought, learned to ignore that societal urge to become smooth and perfect and beautiful and moved on to lives that made them more than they'd been before and more than their pretty and perfect contemporaries could ever hope to be.
I dunno. Not really a point to this one. Just some random, burbling bullshit running across the inside of my head and I figured I'd share. If you're one of the pretty, perfect folk, and you're reading this, then I apologize. Not for my words, which are true and can't be apologized for, but for not giving you a harder time when I run across you in my world, and maybe give you a shot at being something more than you are. At offering you that one chance to be something truly remarkable, rather than something simply nice to look at.
G'night.
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