They say, when writing, that you should, and quickly, trim your readership down to those who will appreciate that which you have to offer. In that spirit;

Hi, motherfuckers:

I’m here to offer you an opportunity to manipulate. Me, that is. I'm your vessel, empty, waiting to be filled(sic). I'm male, seventeen. Just coming out of high school; it was shit. I wasn’t popular, but not the other way, either. I’m angsty, but not for the standard reasons. I'm angry because I was bored. Still bored. Am bored. Can't fucking take it, so bored (that's right, it'sGTKY; and how!). I have friends, most of them I hate. Or not hate, but they hate themselves, so it doesn’t really matter. The few of them that are okay are off doing other things. I don’t do many other things. I’m leading my school's Canada First national robotics competition team this year. It's not to hard, and don't have to work, just delegate.

Last year, I saw people that probably aren’t that much brighter then me excelling. Being featured in Macleans, getting their pilot license, running a mid 90’s average while skipping school all the time. One guy sold of his networking consulting firm at the end of grade 12 for $90k, then got paid to go to the U of T. But I'm not jealous, and I shit you not. Other then in knowing that they knew what they wanted (assuming), and they had the motivation to get it. Me, I 'surf the 'net'. I watch four fucking hours of TV a day. Sometimes, I read, but not anywhere near as much a I used to. Plato, Orwell, Hawkings, Gleick, Newton; you all wrote some funky shit, but I’m bored, and it’s not your fault.

I haven't achieved blessed mental atrophy, no matter how much I've tried. I still talk to my buddy Fred, who last year placed 100th (approx.) at the worldwide Physics Olympiad. He’s pretty bright, we talk about physics, and math, and logic, whatever. I read a lot of books in junior high, before I got thoroughly pissed. I can talk to him. He's quicker then me, but not so quick I can’t back-and-forth with him. I've never met anybody that quick; excepting maybe the best of the debating kids, and anyway they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about, and I respect that, but what's the point? I usually can’t stand talking to adults about anything real; sure, they have stuff to say, some of it's quality, because hey, they’ve had more time to think, experience, fucknot, but they all seem to make bullshit assumptions, and that I just can't take. I still write math. I prove things sometimes. Because I'm smart, but never smart enough to be good. Smart enough to think of original things, but not so smart to think of original things that nobody’s thought of before (heh).

English is my best subject. That thing, y’know, with people being good at math, sciences but not the 'soft' subjects, I never got that. It’s all the same shit. You listen, regurgitate. Sometimes you learn and apply. If you have half a brain, just look, and figure things out. Things are never too hard to figure out. I say the obvious, and get lauded for it. Sometimes, if I try, I find something that's not obvious, and they're like, yeah, that's ok, but isn't it more like this, where this is some other bullshit bastardization that even some of the free thinkers (that’s a quote-unquote) seem to feel so fond of.

Sometimes I draw. I’m pretty good, but not near as good as I could be, because I never took art in high-school, so I was never pushed. I can draw a few things well. I also do some 3d graphics work, Photoshop, too, and I’m pretty good, not just for my age. But I haven’t done anything lately. Because I'm bored. My friend, who’s better then me now, but didn't use to be, is still in high school but’s getting paid $900 USD a month to do part time graphics for some games company down in the 'states. He has motivation. But anyhoo, I make stuff, I draw stuff, I write stuff sometimes, some of it better then this shit. But the stuff, THE FUCKING STUFF I SEE IN MY HEAD, I can never get down on paper, or anything else for that matter. Inspiration I've never had a problem with. If I could paint, I’ve got a thousand things lined up. Every day I do this little slide show; I go through all the pictures I'd put down if only I could. And maybe I add one or two. And it's good shit, not as good as the big guys, but maybe I’m thinking I could be. But of course I can't. It’s all bullshit. Because I can't start. Because I know I won't be good, not right away. Because I know it takes practice. And practice is the one thing I can’t do. Because I have no motivation.

So, what else would I say about me? Hm.. me, me, me. The be-all and end-all of my existence, you might say. There's a bunch of things I won't say, because they’re pretty messed up and I've already gone on way longer then I wanted to. I guess I should talk about girls. I've never had a date, but I think I could've if I'd really wanted to. I'm short, and I have a bit of a lisp, but I can make people laugh, and I'm not a retard. So I could have taken someone out. Maybe. I had a few crushes in junior high; usually on the 'smart' girls, the ones who worked hard and got good marks. I was shy back then, so I didn't act. Now, those same girls just piss me off. I'm in IB and AP classes, the most 'challenging' academic program offered in my city of 900 thousand. Most of the people there do work, and work hard. I don't. I do it if it's for marks, otherwise no dice. I bullshit, I do whatever. I get good grades. So do other people. The girls that get good grades, I’ve come to realize, usually aren't that smart. None of them I've met have any kind of intellectual curiosity, although some of them try to pretend to. I don't even like talking to most of them, because I can guess their responses; carry on the conversations in my own head. I was at Shad over the summer . (That's a 1-month thing, technology and business, for the 'best of the best', pretty wonderfucked, I could node about it, later). I met a girl there who was smart, funny. I liked her. But she was seeing someone, and now she’s hundreds of miles away. And even she had messed up priorities. Often I feel I should try to go get a date, with anyone, just so I know what I’m doing in the future. But, honestly, I can't motivate myself. What's the point? Hm.. I feel I should know this one. But I hate to be fake and to feign interest in someone. Now, I'm not saying she has to be a farking rocket scientist; she doesn’t have to do it, academically; I want someone who, y'know, understands things. Who I can talk to about things. Who doesn’t make stupid assumptions about the world we live in and they way it has to be. I'm still looking. Maybe I'm an over-pretentious little git. I don't know.

But, jeez, on to what you can do for me; or more rightly, what I can do for you. Next year, I go to university. Or do I? You tell me. It's what's expected. Most of my friends are going to the US Ivy Leagues (Harvard, Yale, whatever). My parents don't want to pay, so I'm not going. And fuck, I agree with 'em. The education I’d get here, at Waterloo, or Queens, or wherever isn't going to be so substandard to warrant paying literally four times the $. My parents are boring. My parents are nice. Why can't they be idiots? Why can't they be disturbed? Why won’t anybody give me an outlet? I feel the need to rebel (there's that angst again), but everybody is too fucking reasonable (the bastards). Nobody does anything so moronic that I can’t see reason in it, and so I can't rightly motivate myself to oppose it. I read the paper (it's not like I have anything better to do); I read about the kid in Ottawa who got expelled for writing a scary story. I'm luck, fuck, why can't that happen here? I'd protest, I'd walk out of class. I'd get off on my righteous indignation. I'd do anything I could to get some semblance of sanity for that kid; not for him, but for me, for me.

Anyhoo, my parents: Why can't they just tell me what to do? Then I could do it, or the opposite, whatever. I guess when you rebel you just let them dictate your actions in reverse. But they say, no, you don’t have to go (to university, that is) if you don't want to. You could take a year off, but what would I do? Exactly.

University is the FUCKING DEFAULT. If I don't do anything, I'll probably end up at UWaterloo, in computer engineering. It seems like now, I do everything by default. Following the path of absolute least resistance. I read theses books (sometimres), about this poor kids, street kids, who work their way up, who do more to earn their higher education then I can probably grasp, mentally. And I'm like, yeah, whatever, this thing, I'll do it, if you want me too. It's not like I have anything better to do.

But should I go, and if I go, what should I do? I could do whatever, science, physics, engineering, comp. sci, I don't doubt my ability to succeed. But I'm bored, and I think I'd stay bored during, well, that. In the future, maybe, but now I need to do, to become, not to be saturated with information. Or whatever, I don’t want to pretend to know what I need. I don’t even know what I want?

Maybe I should do arts? From what I hear, 'arts people' are much more interesting then the bunch I know now. Or is it just the same bullshit under a cult of individuality guise? Or what? No university? Get a job? Physical labor IS phun. Join the army? Heinlein says it's good. Do drugs? People already ask me if I’m on LSD. Commit petty crimes? I wouldn't want to seem like a Fight Club wannabe. Join a motor gang? (if so, can you lend me a bike?) I feel stressed, y'know? My future, dude, it's hurtling towards me. Should I duck? Or maybe should I just get out? Y'know, go to parties, raves, clubs, whatever. Meet people. Stop bitching and get off my ass? Get my ass off? If so, how? Like I said; I'm lazy, and I can't fucking move. James Joyce, eat you heart out. So you tell me what to do; and just so I’m not a puppet, you're me. That's right. Move me.

- Most definitely Notdievs,
Because no other name will do.
4:30 AM, January 14th, 2001

do, do q&a, it's a free trip..

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