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SuicidalHomicidalGenocidal
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Name: Steven
Country: United States
State: Arkansas
Metro: Jonesboro
Birthday: 12/12/1984
Gender: Male
Interests: 80s music, classic rock, physics, B-movies, cryptozoology, the paranormal, serial killers, video games, superheroes, reading, that Internet thingy, rambling on and on and on...
Expertise: Useless trivia, remembering the tiniest details, fear, mispronouncing words, agno-atheistic deism (yay for made-up terms!), serial killers and other evil people, evil in general, outsmarting others...
Occupation: Assistant Professor
Industry: Education
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
MSN: azraelkain@hotmail.com
AIM:  DrScientifico
Yahoo:  DrScientifico
Member Since:
12/10/2004
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| Dearest Readers,
How can a man go from anticipating the holiday season to loathing it over the period of like two days? I know I am not the most well-adjusted man around, but that still seems strange. I think it is residual grumpiness from having my 25th birthday go by with almost no fanfare - seriously, I don't think I received a single phone call for it, and even the Facebook greetings were mainly by people I either didn't personally know or haven't hung out with in years - and perhaps that gets coupled with the absolute lack of a social life over the past six months. Seriously, I think I have hung out in my spare time only about six times during that period, and nearly all of those times were within the last month and with the same person. Is that healthy? Hell if I know anymore.
So here it is, two days until Christmas, and I just don't care anymore. Perhaps if I didn't buy all my presents early, this would be more exciting, but it is not. I'll probably get cash and gift certificates that I can't really use because I have nowhere to stash the stuff I want, video games that I am too busy to play so they sit on the shelf for an entire year untouched, DVDs that I am too impatient to sit down and watch but at least complete some sort of collection, CDs that I am too unmotivated to rip to my computer so that I can actually listen to it, action figures and doodads which but further signify how lame I am. It's been that way for a few years now.
When the most exciting thing to happen to someone this past year is the fact that they were in a locale that had more rain than any year before then, something is not quite right. In the mean time, though, I'm just doing my best to ignore the fact that a whole decade just ended, during which I did nothing. Nothing.
Well, sometimes, nothing can be a real cool hand.
Hopefully.
Yours,
Stevo
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| Dearest Readers,
I'm 25 now. I am not really aware of this fact, as I was doped up on medicine and sneezing my head off all this past weekend, and really, there's nothing to celebrate. Whee.
In other news, I'm increasingly aware that I am not a fan of the area.
Yours,
Stevo
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| Dearest Readers,
Dammit, you. I am supposed to be a detective! Granted, I have no training in that, but I notice details and can find anything I need, which is why it is so frustrating that someone managed to just hand me the answers. The solution I spent years looking for! Gah! Life isn't supposed to have cheat codes.
I'll accept it, though.
Yours,
Stevo
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| Dearest Readers,
I haven't been able to socialize for over three months now. Work isn't satisfying in the least. My 24th year is winding down, and I have nothing to show for a year that is supposed to be great for me (12 x 2 = 24 after all, and 12 is the greatest number ever!).
Really, there's no reason why I haven't taken my savings up to this point, moved to somewhere nice like Seattle, and disappeared for a while. I've earned it.
But deep down inside, I won't let myself earn it. In a world gone to shit, someone's got to take responsibility, to sacrifice and give everything.
Granted, it makes no sense for me to take on that responsibility, especially since I really can't do anything for the world, but guess what? I've gone mad. There's no sense to be made.
Hell, even I can't decipher what I just wrote. This is why a blog is a bad idea; people expect words, so you write and write and write, when a simple "I'm miserable" would do.
Your wordy friend,
Stevo
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| Dearest Readers,
I swear to God that I am about to put some hypothetical boots up some hypothetical asses. Why is it that Batesville, AR seems to be the epicenter of awful drivers? It doesn't help that every major inlet and outlet to the city is being worked on so that traffic is absolutely Godawful. Gah!
Until next time,
Stevo
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