Thursday, July 30, 2009

A Paradoxical Outlook

I have touched on this previously, so I will be brief – I was on the bus tonight when a young female got on; roughly my age, possibly older, dress was semi-casual and somewhat sophisticated. At first sight, I could have sworn that it was a girl I once knew but still see, although ironically, it was a lady that turned out to be somebody else, yet she was the complete opposite of the girl that I thought she was, despite her similar facial features.

For the life of me, I have never been able to recall her name, so for the prime purpose of this post, we will call her Ishka. Ishka is a loser, more specifically, she is one of the losers that I have spent this year bitching about, quite previously in Two Types of People, Change & Scum of Parramatta. The only thing Ishka knows how to do is sell sex, get kicked out of school and dress to loiter, quite contrary to the Ishka that caught my bus home, and it got me comparing.
Tonight I was shown a What-If outlook on somebody else’s life in the form of success and failure; bus-Ishka was the best thing that could’ve happened in her life, someone with potential and a more prosper future, and then the real-Ishka, whose future is spending more time smoking and spraying out profanities at the local shopping mall than at home, work or school. It’s just too bad which path has ended up being reality, I guess.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Terror or Crime?

Just a thought – in light of the very recent terrorist attacks and the fact that terrorism has become the word hanging off everybody’s lips since 2001, I have always pondered reasons as to why terrorists receive a different light than criminals. It would seem that a criminal would be looked down upon by society, yet a terrorist will receive a somewhat mutilated version of that negative treatment. In straight terms, a terrorist is a mass-murderer, and a subsequent fugitive; sounds a lot like a criminal to me.

So, there are many ways that it can be looked at, some that differ with my point, some that compliment it.

Starting with the opposition: The fact that the people with the terrorist label hanging above their head are not actually the ones who commit the crimes with their bare hands, crimes that are more commonly referred to as terrorist attacks, makes them a terrorist; the fact that there message is more on political grounds than personal also makes them a terrorist.

Now for my confusion: If a person kills someone, they are a criminal, terrorists kill people, therefore they are essentially criminals; most criminals have some sort of motive of revenge, psychosis or desperation, actions of certain governments give terrorists the motive to inflict pain to send a message, this makes them a criminal; where people die, a crime scene is made, many people die where a terrorist attack has occurred, this makes it a crime scene; terrorists merge in organisations and criminals roll in gangs; terrorists have received capital-punishment, so have criminals.

My larger point is that neither does the nature, nationality or method define the people that we like to call terrorists, in other words, there is no difference between killing one hundred people with a bomb and killing one person on the street with a knife, so theoretically, where do you draw the line between calling somebody a criminal and calling them a terrorist?

Futon is Fondue

Life is weird when you can break it down 
to the sound of your alarm clock.*

Tabletops are awesome,
However, Tablebottoms are terrifying.

Getting your car hand-washed always makes you feel like coffee and a slice of cake. **

Only service stations dare make business at an intersection.

When a company manufactures alcohol
it gets a great marketing team.

Futon is Fondue,
But rearranged.

*Trina’s sister does this. BEEP-BEEP.
<-- Previous: Fish Are Gay

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Oh, no

 Some people grew up in a family uniform to this one;
I, fortunately, did not.
Mine doesn't have a website, either.

Related Post - Naivety is Looked Upon

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Pityless for the Self-induced

Alcohol is social and self-induced. It is a minor thing but can sometimes have major effects in large quantities. I see myself as a truly altruistic person, even if I don’t know you, when it comes to passing out and what have you, I will be sure to assist, but if I don’t like you, what incentive do I have in helping you in a situation that you have put yourself in? I honestly struggle with the notion of helping somebody I dislike in a situation that they did not call the shots in, so why? I have been toying with this ever since Jess and I had discussed it after somebody she helped out at a party.

In a nutshell, this girl we mutually dislike guzzled down mass amounts of alcohol and either sniffed up or choked down some drug, I don’t really remember, regardless, whatever cocktail was surging through her body, by the end of the night, had her legless and unbuttoned, hanging off anybody for some support while her clothing hung off her; more to the point, Jess would help her, I would not.

Would I help in a completely innocent situation, maybe, but I don’t understand this helping somebody that has inflicted the side-effects upon themselves that wouldn’t assist me in any scenario anyway. I mean, I’m a nice guy, but not that nice.

Sunday, July 12, 2009


Change, I do not like you. I don’t like how it happens, none of us do, but more importantly, I dislike how people ignore the fact that it happens. Some are not open about their transitions, some are not happy about their change and some have no idea that they have changed, myself included. You see, if these last few somewhat draining weeks have taught me anything, it is that I have lived and worked in the same area for so long that I am physically unable to walk down the street or go to work without bumping into somebody I have had some type of past encounter with, some idiot pit stop in my life. However, the person that wears the face that I am now seeing is not the same person that I knew during said pit stop; this is where the issue lies.

This wouldn’t normally be a problem, but it would seem that a good handful of the people that I once civilly spoke with have taken some disgusting path I couldn’t imagine myself walking down; they have just become the ghosts and tombstones of that better time in their life. It would seem that simply befriending the people I did in my past has now reverberated into my present by consequently giving me acquaintances and connections with all the scum in my area. It has gotten to the point where walking down a street is literally like walking down Memory Lane, but a Memory Lane of crime, promiscuity and chronic loitering; I don’t want to know the people staring at me when I am tying my shoes on my front step, I don’t want to know the person being thrown up against my work’s windows. Past friendships have just become obstacles for me in this common area in the world.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Emails save Social Lives

Email Sent; a message that is fighting for the return of my late social life outside of work, and to eliminate those small gaps I had between each shift. You see, I have reached a stage in my life which is relative to one of a full-time working person with a roster riddled with night shift after night shift, but I am only eighteen years old and I am taking part in something commonly known as a gap year, point being, my money-making lifelessness was not by choice, however, my acceptance of it was initially to save up for my new phone, but now that I have earned the money that I need, I no longer need to work hours quite so…taxing, especially at a place that I do not favour, hence, the email.

During my over-consistency at the store, I have grown somewhat upset about the lacking social stimulation happening in my life, and when I say lacking, I mean in the last few weeks, I have been out on four occasions; this has upset me.

So, the simplified version is: Dear Manager, I would like my old hours back, and Friday day-shifts again, please. Best Regards. And that’s my social life’s rebirth so that I can comfortably enjoy the remaining five months of this year with adequate spending and socialising balanced nicely with work; stuff this working all the time garbage.