Random Little Things

There were actually quite a number of random little things yesterday I should’ve included but I had forgotten about them. They are really random and really little.

On my walk home from the library yesterday, it had been snowing a lot for hours and snow was gathering up. When I was about to turn into the street where I live, I see a car sliding all over the place and having a hard time gripping the road. When I walked past the car, the driver yelled out the window, “You’re making better time than me!” He said it in a really hill-billy kind of way. That’s all.

You know the stereotype where Asian tourists take pictures of everything? Well I saw some next level stuff yesterday. I have a new next door neighbour and I haven’t talked to the guy yet, but yesterday, from inside my house, I saw him stick a 2L bottle of Nestea in the snow on his driveway and taking pictures of it. It’s like he’s in his own little world. A lot of neighbours were out shovelling the snow but he just did his own thing without caring about anyone else. If I were him, I would’ve done that silly stuff in the backyard or not do such stupid shit at all. I almost envy the way he can ignore the rest of the world like that.

This last one is kind of odd. Well, everything I say and write is kind of odd. The night before last, I went to bed and start dreaming right away. I literally only lied down for less than a minute and I was already dreaming. It was almost as if I was dreaming while still awake, or I just fell asleep super fast. In the dream, I was riding a bike down the street and all of a sudden I fell over. This is was not uncommon based on my last couple weeks of biking and walking to the library in the snow. With snow and ice, sometimes the ground is completely uneven and you can see it through the thick soft snow. As I fell off the bike in the dream, I woke up and my entire body shook as if I just landed from the fall. It was a pretty weird experience. I don’t know what else to say about it. It was just weird.

Procrastination Fascination

I started recording a podcast with that title today but I bailed on it 15 minutes in. I believe this is the second time I’ve ever deleted a podcast because I wasn’t happy with it. There isn’t any fascination. I only named it that to rhyme with procrastination. Now that I’m still procrastinating, I guess I’ll do a blog version of it. I wanted it to be a podcast because it’s just a bunch of scattered thoughts. There is actually one organized thought in there and I will save that thought. It’s about messenger birds. I may write about it right after this entry or I’ll talk about on the next podcast, whenever that may be.

First off, I find it fascinating that Tek Tactical seems to actively infuriate certain people. I stopped the podcast while talking about this and it’s almost making me quit this blog entry too. A lot of speculation and explanation seems to be required but I’ll just leave it at that and move on. Let’s just say it’s now at a point where I’m glad I’m pissing those people off because they’re assholes anyway.

I’ve been playing Hatsune Miku for the past couple days. Some people might not recognize the name but you might recognize her face:


If you don’t recognize her, well, I guess you’ll be learning about her now. It’s called a vocaloid and it’s a computer generated voice and people make songs with it. This is a video of a live hologram concert. That one is actually a pretty good song but there are also annoying songs like this or this. Those aren’t even the most annoying ones. Maybe it’s a good thing that I couldn’t find the really bad ones. I only brought this up because I thought it was funny that when I first launched the game, there’s a screen that tells you to be polite and keep the volume down or use headphones. It’s basically the developers admitting that they know the voice can be super annoying.

I’ve been borrowing games from the library. I haven’t done that in half a year but I started again last week. For a brief moment, I thought I could get into gaming again but it didn’t last. There’s still a severe loss of interest. Anyway, the reason I brought up the library is because I travelled to the library yesterday and the day before. The library is about 6km away from my house which wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for all the fucking snow and ice. On the first day, I chose to bike. I had to walk a good portion of the trip because there was too much snow to pedal through. On the not-too-thick snow, there’s tons of tire slippage going on but it’s kind of fun. Then it slipped while I was making a 90 degree turn and that wasn’t pretty. Actually maybe it was pretty – I wish I could see how I looked from third person. The bike fell sideways during the turn and I jumped off and kept on walking while still holding onto the handles and pulling the bike along. After walking a couple steps and regaining my balance, I jumped back onto the bike but the chain had fallen off so pedalling didn’t move the bike anymore. If it weren’t for that, I might’ve actually looked pretty cool. I had to take a moment to put the chain back on. Historically, I had to get my hands dirty to fix it.. That day, I discovered that if I just pedalled backwards a couple times, the chain will fall back onto the gears.

Biking in the snow was a bit more troublesome than I expected but it wasn’t too bad. Yesterday, I had to go to the library again for another game. It was snowing a bit so I decided to walk this time. For two weeks now, I have been biking on my stationary bike for many hours everyday. My legs were never sore from the previous day so I thought my legs were getting pretty damn good. They didn’t get tired from biking to the library either. However, when I woke up today, my legs were pretty sore. I guess it makes sense that biking is easier on the legs than walking, but it still caught me by surprise. I like the feeling of sore muscles though. It feels like I actually did some shit rather than just sitting around and procrastinating all day. I’m going to the library again tomorrow and I can’t decide whether I should walk or bike. I was leaning on walking earlier, but now I’m leaning towards biking. But then it snowed these past two days so walking might be wiser. I’m still completely undecided.

I have one last thought I want to write about to wrap this up. I saved the grossest for last. I haven’t talked about shit lately. And by shit, I’m talking about fecal matter. (I feel like I need a transition line here. Oh well. Enjoy the foreshadowing.) Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always enjoyed sitting in a bath every so often. As a child, I never noticed that I might be sitting in my own filth. When I’ve been taking bathes these last couple weeks, I notice a lot of skin and hair. I’m not really bothered by those too much, but then if I take a bath after I shit, it doesn’t matter how much I wipe and how much I spray my ass with the shower hose, when I sit in a bath, there’s always one tiny piece of shit dust floating around. It’s surprisingly self-contained and doesn’t change the color of the surrounding water, but it’s still unpleasant to have a tiny piece of shit floating around in the water I’m sitting in. Actually, the lack of color contamination makes sense if I compare it to regular shits in the toilet. The toilet water usually stays clear when I take healthy shits. Comparing these new bath experiences with my childhood ones, I have two theories. Either I’ve become more observant and pay more attention to detail as I’ve gotten older, or maybe my asshole is not as tight as it used to be and shit is slipping out.

…To Live… and Rants

For a long time, I’ve been having trouble trying to think up of concise words to express a certain emotion I’ve been feeling. It’s a depressing thought and I’m pretty sure I wrote about it in the early entries of the blog, back when I called it a suicidal autobiographical blog. Anyway, here’s the nice concise version of this thought:

(I had been unemployed and sitting around at home for a long time. People, particularly my parents, urge me to find a job because I need to earn a living.) I don’t even want to live, why the fuck would I want to work to live?

I was originally going to end this entry there but I like writing longer blogs and I figured out a few other things I want to write about. So I’m working part time at a library now simply because one of my friend’s girlfriend helped me apply (with my consent). It’s been 2 weeks now and I’ve been biking 7 km (roughly 4.4 miles) to and from work everyday. I had been riding a near decade old bike, that was shitty even when it was new, and now has misaligned tires, that scrape against the brakes, and brakes that don’t work. Given my passively suicidal state, the hunk of junk is actually a perfect fit for me. It greatly increased my chance of dying and I didn’t need to worry about people stealing it because it was a piece of shit. I laugh in my head just imagining the fool who steals this shit bike and gets pissed cause it doesn’t ride straight or die from not having brakes.

On my way to work today, a tire popped and now it’s a complete piece of shit that I couldn’t even make use of. I called home from work to let my parents know that I’m going to have to walk home so I’ll be later than usual. That sounds like healthy relationship behavior but I only do it so my mom doesn’t start crying and calling my friends like the last time when she literally nagged me out of the house… past midnight… during winter. That’s actually a whole story unto itself that I haven’t wrote about in the blog yet. By now, it should be clear that I don’t hold back at all. I only chose not to write about it because the story actually isn’t nearly as interesting as the synopsis.

During the phone call, my mom went hysterical and called me selfish for choosing to walk and making her worry. That’s pretty much my life summed up in my commute situation. If I walk, I’m selfish and worrisome. If I get a ride, I’m selfish and annoying and dependent and spoiled. I ended up getting a ride since it was just one night. I started making plans on buying a new bike right away because I’ll be needing it to get to work. But it was necessary because my problem solved itself for a change. It turns out that my cancerous uncle won’t be needing his brand new bike since he’s in no mood to ride it and he won’t need it once he dies, soon enough. Boy, I sure am lucky that my uncle got cancer. … I feel like people might call me a total douchebag for writing that last sentence but it’s just pure “moral” bullshit. Objectively, there’s actually nothing with it. Plus, I only wrote it to point out the irony. I couldn’t really give a shit about luck for mundane shit like a bicycle. A new bike costs what? $100? $200? Just this year, the government fined me more than triple that amount on a bank error (which the bank made) that I have no control over. Again, that’s another boring story that won’t be getting into.

If you ever catch me blogging about the bank story or getting nagged out of the house, then you will know that I have officially ran out of things to write about. Either that, or I found a way to make those boring stories really, really, REALLY interesting. By then, I better be famous or Jesus cause that would be a god damn miracle.

Oh, and just to show what a cunt I am, the free new bike is actually quite a burden for me. Now I actually have to worry about people stealing my bike. I liked it better when I rode a piece of shit that I wanted to get stolen.