Lets make a new kind of thread. The honest thread. Where we post whats most honest in our minds.
One rule: don’t post stupid spurious responses to other people. This thread is for non-sequiturs.
My turn: 1) I’m often amazed that other people aren’t as honest and open as me. The qualities I understood to be virtues often leave me feeling like a chump.
2: When I was a kid body odour replused me. Now I frequently get a stinky pit and wonder why kids don’t have the courtesy to ignore it and reserve judgement. Thats called an old-fartitis.
The term ‘senior moment’ is more apropos for me than ‘brain fart’ but I’m not old enough to use the former, so I have nothing to come back with when I fudge up. (Which is often.)
The last time I really laughed hard was when I heard the phrase, ‘Im gonna pull off your arm and dig your grave using the wet end.’
I’m not sure how it’s possible to expect honesty when you don’t know anyone’s name. It seems like expecting people to be honest about how beautiful they are when everyone’s wearing masks.
As I sit here looking at the computer screen, I am filled with mild curiosity at what the people on this thread might say, mixed with hope that some of it will be funny; resignation that it will probably be stupid; a faint electronic buzzing sound in the area of my temples; and a growing realization that I am posting out of compusiveness. And trying to remember exactly what “phenomenology” was, because it seemed to involve looking at life the way I am right now (but with fancier-sounding words). Is this Zen?
I think about poop alot. How often, what kind, what went into it, how I will wipe it, how I will dispose of the wipey paper, how to make sure it’s “brown down” when I put the paper in the garbage can, whether it’s cheaper to buy the big flat napkin kind of paper or the rolls, those stories about rats that sometimes pop up out of the toilet when people are sitting on them, how far to pull my pants down when I use the squat toilet, will I pee on my shoe while I’m down there, how weird it is to be that close to my own poo, how filthy the stall is, what if I cramp up trying to stand back up…
Most days I hate going outside in Taipei because people are so incredibly rude to strangers. I spend at least 30 minutes a day pissed off at all of the pushing, rude driving, “me first” attitudes, encroaching, sidewalk hogging, and general lack of spatial awareness that exists. I sometimes lose my temper and yell at people in Mandarin. In general, I like living in Taiwan (i.e. once I get to my destination or when I’m in my own home or the homes of friends and relatives, I’m happy), but if I had to choose something to hate, this would be it. The insidious thing about it is that I know it’s my problem–I used to think very little about it but for some reason I’ve chosen to let it bother me now.
I hope that I have a great talent for writing but fear that I’m actually pretty mediocre.
I have a polarizing personality. That is, I have a tendency to offend the hell out of certain people when I have no ill intentions. I first realized this when I was a Mormon missionary in Taiwan twenty years ago. I’d get such support and adulation from the larger part of the missionary population, and threats of violence and nastiness from ten or twenty of the 180 missionaries in our group. I think about 90% of the people I know are fans, or at least bear me no ill will, and 10% would like to see me crash and burn. I used to think “Well, some people are always going to be jealous of someone who tries to achieve something,” or “They don’t understand the real me,” but now I think I just need to take responsibility for causing some people to think I’m an arrogant asshole.
I realise that reading some words such as ‘phenomenology’ that not only do I not know what it means, but I’m too lazy to look it up and I can’t say it. If I try to read it out, I’ll sound retarded.
[quote=“Tomas”]I’ll give it a try.
3. I have a polarizing personality. That is, I have a tendency to offend the hell out of certain people when I have no ill intentions. I first realized this when I was a Mormon missionary in Taiwan twenty years ago. I’d get such support and adulation from the larger part of the missionary population, and threats of violence and nastiness from ten or twenty of the 180 missionaries in our group. I think about 90% of the people I know are fans, or at least bear me no ill will, and 10% would like to see me crash and burn. I used to think “Well, some people are always going to be jealous of someone who tries to achieve something,” or “They don’t understand the real me,” but now I think I just need to take responsibility for causing some people to think I’m an arrogant asshole.
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Thats me, but i’ve got it to a worse degree. In large social groups or with colleauges all I can do is listen and speak idle shit chat like those that consider themselves socially elite because to actually talk about something meaningful might offend someone. But for people that I don’t care about, I take a perverse pleasure in winding certain individuals up.
“Polarizing” is pretty common amongst people with actual personalities. Most people are rather generic and don’t have real, developed personalities and thus fit in with others like them very well. People with personal quirks, however, either intrigue or irritate people. If you have a real personality you can’t just blend in easily. People have to actually respond to you negatively or positively.
It’s difficult to variate the prism.
One’s visage gets comfortable after a while.
Breaking up one’s pysche, is hard to do.
Yet, it leads to much invigoration.
One gets thru funk by getting funky!
Try it!
For the life of me I can’t come up with non sequiturs. I got sequiturs, semi-sequiturs, pseudo-sequiturs, and anti-sequiturs. That’s the best I can do.
I get depressed and angry and post on Forumosa. Like, all the time. I get drunk and enjoy posting when I’m drunk. I love writing when I’m drunk. When I’m drunk, there’s nothing I love more than writing. There’s nothing I love more in the entire world.
I have coughed up enough phlegm this week to bust the Hoover Dam. I’m much better now, save for the nagging cough. I should never have started smoking again.