rare rebels threatened by gorillas.

I want to die.
I want to die.
I want to die.
I hate school.
My classes are shit.
I can't change them.
My work is not good enough.
I cant focus.
I am smart, I'm sick of being insulted everyday by this.
If I fail again I am not going back.

I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you.

If you think Obama is a Marxist you're moron

To everyone in America who believes that our new president, our first president of African American decent, holds Marxists beliefs you are wrong.  Not only are you wrong, you are the worst type of wrong, you are part of the irrational Right.  This is not the Right of barry goldwater or his comtemporaries, but the idiotic far Right of Rush Limbaugh or the ironically named "Focus on the Family." What basis do you have to believe that this man is a Marxist?  More importantly, do you know what a Marxist is?  Barack Obama is a liberal democrat.  Karl Marx wrote the three volumes of Das Kapital.  Barack Obama wants to ease the tax burden for the vast majority of American working people, and to tax the ultra rich more to pay for it.  The ultra rich can afford to pay a little more in their taxes so that the rest of us can survive in this precarious economic situation we're in.  Karl Marx proposed the seizure of the means of production to serve the interests of the prolateriat.  There is no comparison. None at all.  Obama only wants to make government work for the people of this country again, after so many years of negelect.  If you can confuse the rthetoric of Barack and Karl so easily that you make some sort of connection you should get you head examined.

I know you might be bitter because old skeletor lost the election so badly, but at least have the class to not make a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

love,

james

dietary reform.

hey now, shit has gotten crazy.

New Rules:

1. One hour of hard exercise a day (if I can bullshit on io9 for that long I can surely ride the stationary for that long).
2. I like my sugar and I like my real butter (I need to cut those out).
3. Watch the 8pm snack (apples or bananas only!).
4. No mayo on my tuna sandwich (weak, but the shit is garbage).
5. Read 100 pages of something a night.

Starts at Oct 15. 12:01 am.

TRIPODS, FUCKING TRIPODS.

I figure the Philly punks would be pretty low on the totem for mind control by aliens in giant three legged walking machines, but I'm concerned nonetheless.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-5ZlZFh6xM

stop bitching about religion, it's a blight to society. we know.

dear julia,

religion just makes me want to heave and puke everywhere.


love,

james

YOUR EMOTIONS MAKE YOU A MONSTER

And they do. If it wasn't for caffeine and nicotine I'd be a nervous wreck all the time. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, that my twenties have been much worse than my teens ever were. The depression I felt in high school was horrible and debilitating, but it subsided as I became an adult.

Now I'm in a permanent mood; I hate everyone and hate myself. I don't feel at home anywhere. I want to be on the road again. Nothing can compare to going city to city without a plan, and just making do with the circumstances that I was in at any time or the next. After traveling it is relieving to come home, but confounding at the same time. University can be so stifling, I just want to get to do what I want to do. 21 feels like a vaccum where I'm not truly an adult, but I cannot be caught doing all the stuff I did when I was a kid. I really don't give a shit about Attic vases (no offense to those who get a tweak out of it). I am a social historian, or am trying to be, at least. GOD, LET ME FUCKING DO IT NOW PLEASE MOTHERFUCKER.

The most important thing now is to remember that my individuality is all I really have -- I have an identity and a life, but that's it. I can't let the shit in my head continue fucking me up like it does. I can't give up on this. I need to snap out of this funk I've been in. The life I have, my existence, is pretty cool. It shouldn't perish from the earth -- there's no one just like me out there.

I'm not trying to say I'm special. There are people like me. I know them. The world would still turn if I was dead. I've known people who've died. The Saganite "specialness" of the combinations of atoms and pure luck that created a being so unlikely as me is what is important to me now. I am an patch work of memories of events that only I possess, and if I do not choose to repeat them (digitally or verbally) they will remain mine until my death.

dont stop pushin now.

I'm leaving for Europe in thirty-six hours and I haven't packed. That's par for the course; I enjoy being rushed and mildly unprepared.

I really dont want to talk about this weekend.