The modernization process in action...
So, my computer, which has been the brunt of many a joke
because of its age and performance issues, will finally be
replaced sometime next week by a sleeker and stronger
machine. I've spent the last few days removing and
reminicing over the things accumlated on this old beast,
which will take up residence in my brother's room next week
as well. Photos, Essays, Poronography, mid '90s computer
games, mp3s, lyrical concotions, hi-scores, and various
documents. Such as this one, entitled "A world of reality"
written on June 14th, 2002 at 12:52am. Freaky.
As each day in my life, each day on this planet of
difference passes by the window of my room in my parents
suburban home, the pieces slowly move together and the
picture becomes clearer than it ever has. Ours is a world
built on the fears of the unknown. A world in which a
person encompassing some visible unnorm is still met with
by discomfort in a blind society. A world where those who
do not project and align with roles and values as presented
by the billions of mind numbing screens and preachers of
the proper ideology throughout a social territory are
greeted with silent disapproval and painted by a
stereotypical stroke. Those who observe this reality and
realize the adversity of its nature are cast in a similar
light. In both counts, I am one such person.
Each passing moment continues to clarify the world in which
I live. Included in this clarification process I realize
that many of the people in my life do not share what I have
come to realize. My parents, who have had much more time to
realize the world’s gross injustices, do not. They are
convinced that for me and my belief’s ‘it’s just a phase’
and ‘I’ll grow out it’, that the world is all about
surviving, me, making it in the world, me, getting a big
house, a good wife, nice kids, me, me, me. Don’t worry
about the other guy, look out for yourself. This is what,
in a nutshell, my parents, who I otherwise respect greatly,
are feeding me. Amongst some of my friends, I’m a Communist
bastard with my Socialist bullshit. Why? Because I care? If
Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr. never deviated from the
norm, what would that now mean for certain attitudes and
Right now, I’m still confused. Everywhere I go, the same
thing. I want to chime in with my perceptions, but at what
price? Loss of credibility? Embarrassment? I am nearly
ready to risk it. I can only live in this shell for so
long. My fake face is becoming small and uncomfortable. But
too many questions remain unanswered. One year of
university education under my belt and I am still without
future plans. What to do? For now, I guess, I must move
forward, but along the unwalked path. Barriers are
plentiful, but I must remain true, to myself. Yes, for now
I will move forward, and bask in awe as the picture
continues to take shape. I will also make to myself a
solemn vow; never again will I laugh at a racist joke.
Yes, defineatly worth hanging on to.
Now bring on the more realistic murdering, DVD veiwing
capability, and the technological such.
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