I shall begin with a bang...
BANG.
And yet, more bangage is needed...
So, watch this. I dunno why, I like it.
... Oh, how I wish I could do that...
Anyways, hello to y'all. Yeah, I hate that word too. 'Y'all'. Nearly as much as LOL, stoked and... the most dreaded of all... tummy. Well, any word that ends with '-ummy'. Tummy, mummy, dummy, and so on and so forth, if there's more. I mean, I guess it's okay to say them words to a toddler, but I'd feel a bit nervous if a doctor told me that I had to have loads of stitches in my tummy, and he had consent from my mummy. Man, they're like the worst type of words in the English language. Use stumoch (however you spell it), mother, and whatever the english version of pacifier is. That's all I'm sayin'.
On academic news. I've gone from borderline shit to extremely shit in Chemistry now, and nerly doing the same in Physics. In Music Tech, I've made alright progress on the Blondie song, I'm on the chorus part of all instruments so it's all good so far. Haven't done anything really for the recording task. For the compsition task, I've got a riff (well, chord progression), which sounds rather emo unfortunately. But I'm hoping to punk it up (or at least rock it up, so it matches the acoustic intro) for the choruses (or chorusi) and the other two verses. So yeah, the only course I actually feel like I'm going anywhere in is Music Tech, and I actually rather have the other two being better...
Seriously though, my mathmatical skills have gone down the toilet, but halfway down it had reacted with the water, evaporated, and managed to enter my body through my pitiful need of oxygen to live until the next time I have to go to the toilet. I don't know why. Maybe I'm subconsiously thinking something that's making me become shite, or maybe it's quite simply, that I'm shite at counting. Which is not something I want to admit. Maths has been the only subject that I've been consistantly good at since I was a baby. So, why's it turning on me? Or, should that be why is my brain turning into a mouldy pile of unwanted socks? Yeah, I'll go with that.
Maybe... maybe I'm secretly telling myself, without actually knowing I'm saying it to myself, is 'why bother?'. What's the point in doing these calculations because in a matter of mere dacades, you'd be like the big fish and little fish... in a cardboard box. And I know I've talked about it in a post (if I remember, it was more of an essay...), but for nearly two months now, I've haven't had the subject out of my head. I had like, at least four different moments of mini panic in school.
The most recent one was in Physics. We had Brooks (which, I think, is the best Physics teacher there, but to be fair, it was either her of Humphreys... no competition really). She was on about what monoatomic things where (well, giving a quick explaination on them anyways). And I just thaught, what if we all were electrons, speeding our way around the neuclius in every direction possible? What if we occupy a miniscule section of some alien material? ect... Then I just looked up, and I was slightly breathless. I looked at my hand, but then moved it from my sight, 'cause (somehow) it resembled my mortality'. Random thaughts came to my head. Why are we here? What's the real purpose of life? What songs am I going to play on Guitar Hero when I get home? Nah, I lie about the last one. But still, I'm really scared by this morbid fascination (well, not fascination... but that's the only word I can think of) of death and the afterlife.
Just now, they said on the news that some cook died at the age of sixty-odd. I thaught shit, I'm over a quarter of that age... Michael Jackson wasn't in his sixties when he died/got killed/faked his death (options are depending what you believe, oh and correct me if I'm wrong on his age). And just now, they've got news on the murderer of an eighty-odd year old woman. Murder. How heartless must you be to take another person's life for no reason whatsoever? Even when they've done something major, most of the time it doesn't mean people have the right to wipe their prescence of the face of the earth. But meh, how am I going to stop mass geniside... I dunno. At first I thaught geniside was the murder of genitalia...
So, if you're in school, and you see me looking like I'm thinking about something, there's a good chance I'm thinking about life (or another thing, which I thaught would've gone once this school year started.... more fool me...). Actually that's made me think about something. If you read this, tell me what you think? Either in a comment to this post, or to me in person/MSN/e-mail/smoke signals. I want to know if I'm the only seventeen year old to think this. Most likely I am. But hey, I'd like to see what other people think about what life is, if you think about it often, y'know...
Oh, by the way, I know most people joke about me being emo, with the whole cutting my wrists routine... I just like to point out that I'll never kill myself. And I've never said anything truet than that.
I'm off now... but before I go... a question...
Boris Johnson, true or false?
- Fin.
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