Stoic_Slaughter's journal

44% of all American adults do not read one book in the course of a year.
--U.S. Department of Education

I'm not surprised.

What's incredibly sad is that in my World History class, my intelligent teacher told us what separated Kerry and Bush in our last election. Bush: 60,608,582 Kerry:57,288,974. My thoughts and my teacher's were, "Wow. That was really close." The rest of the class grinned as though Bush had just won by a landslide. They started talking about it. "Did you see that? Kerry wasn't even a thought." Of course I, being annoyingly outspoken, replied, "You idiots. You're so stupid, all of you. I want you all to die. You don't realize that a few million votes are NOTHING. It was a very close race." My teacher chuckled and told me to go out in the hallway until I calmed down while the rest of the befuddled class sat, looking rather offended. Mind you, this is not a post about politics... rather, a post about ignorance. I am surrounded (and I mean SURROUNDED) by people who are oblivious to life. Maybe it's because I live in the south and I shouldn't judge America as a whole based on my experiences, but the fact that 44 percent of our adults don't read a single book in an entire year is frightening to me. (Statistics aren't always reliable, I know, but I wouldn't doubt that one for a minute.) I just don't understand. I know the rest of the world isn't this way. Why do people allow themselves to be so ignorant? Even worse, those I know are ignorant to the FACT that they're ignorant. I know for a fact that I'm atrociously ignorant. I do accept that, but I try with every day to learn something that I don't know to lessen my ignorance just slightly. Knowledge is power, and the America as I know it is weak.

I hate the fact that most women don't appreciate themselves. They look in their mirrors and don't like what they see. Why would anyone do that? If I weighed 600 lbs and had no nose, I would still look in my mirror and say, "You are the most gorgeous thing to ever walk the planet." I'm beautiful. You're beautiful. Everything about life is beautiful. Wow... I'm a hippie. Anyway, I was talking to my right brained friend about how important math is. My right brained friend said, "I have music and art. I don't need math." I replied, "But there is so much math in music and art!" We had a discussion and we've agreed that math is great. It's odd of me to say that because I am exceptionally right brained myself, but once one sees that math is in everything it's easier to enjoy it. It's even in poetry. I love math.

I've realized that I really don't mind keeping my mouth shut. Most people don't have that ability. It appears to me that if I know something that you don't, I have power over you. Is that such a hard concept to grasp? I know few people (if any) who can keep a secret for longer than twenty minutes. I don't understand. I never feel the urge to tell someone else anything. I like keeping my secrets to myself. Then again, deep down I'm a cruel, heartless, vindictive person, and often times I can use my secrets to my advantage. Hm. Imagine that.

Things that have happened since I've been away...

The bad: my grandparents died, my brother beat my mother with the metal end of a broom, my father continued to drink excessively and almost caught the house on fire, my cat died, I destroyed all of my artwork, I wept more than I ever have in my life, and I lost all sense of my religion. The good: I fell in love, I got a dog, I've become more appreciative, my brother is getting medicine so he doesn't kill me or others, and I know eventually I'll be able to do art again once I regain a bit of sanity. It's safe to say that this has been the worst year of my life, but I know for a fact that in my darkest hours I was happier and more appreciative than most people in their happiest days. I'm so grateful for misfortune because it provides so much wisdom. The good will always outweigh the bad. I really believe that.

It's great to be back.

There's a poetry section? Wow. That's amazing.

Okay, so Articulate_Azn has begged me to check in, and I am. How are all of you? I know I haven't posted in forever.. I suppose I was trying to separate myself from the computer for a while. I lied in my last post when I said I'd never post again.. or did I say that? I'm too lazy to check. I'm a lying piece of scum, sue me.

I saw the "tribute" that was made for me, and that was just too kind. It's lovely to see that I'm still remembered. I certainly remember all of my friends from here, and I must say that occasionally I sneak on and read a bit.

Who knows? I might end up frequenting this more often, I might not post for another year, I might end up posting every day for the rest of my sad little life. I just thought that if I never post again, you all need at least one more post, right? A bit of closure? I'm so thrilled that there is a poetry section. I might end up posting more for that alone.

Have fun.

I guess I'm leaving. No more computer for me (it died), and no more computer means no more netalive. To all of my friends (you know who you are) I'd like to say thank you for a wonderful few months, and goodbye. There isn't much else to say, unless I wouldn't mind being verbose... but you all know that I just can't do that. Have fun, everyone!

Post scriptum: Jaz, you've created a wonderful thing... I'll miss it!

Why are people so dramatic? I mean, seriously..this is starting to anger me. Let's just make a hypothetical situation. Sally can't open the pickle jar. Now, if I couldn't open the pickle jar, I'd probably say screw it and eat something else. Or, perhaps, I would get some assistance from a male family member...but Sally isn't like me. She throws the pickle jar at the wall, weeping for hours about how her pickle jar opening skills are inadequate and how it's all her fault that her kitten died when she was a child. Why, people? Why? Why this drama? It seems that everyone around me is suddenly caught in an intricate soap opera. My brother, for instance, got mad at my father last night over some stupid little thing, so he sprayed cologne all over his wall (why?!) out of anger and then insisted that he sleep in my room. I said he couldn't, so he said "Fine. Give me the sleeping bag and I'll sleep in the hallway." I was just thinking, "Okay, you whore...you're the one who sprayed cologne on your wall for no reason. You're not sleeping in my room and I'll be damned if I give you my sleeping bag." But I gave him the sleeping bag, because I'm not dramatic. I don't know. Maybe everyone is just so freakishly bored that making everything dramatic would be more interesting, but the fact is, this is ridiculous.