Ramble On.

For those of you who might have been wondering, that last post of mine was in no way an April Fool's dedication, nor was it spam, but rather the dangerous mind to pen to paper. Minus the filters. Imagine a draft without grammar correction. Imagine the news without censorship. Imagine freedom without proper restraint. The horrors isn't it?

It was just at a time where I had been a little bit stressed out, things not going too well my way, combined with the ever-present aura of loneliness and utter boredom. Not if I can help it, plus a workload that is strife for my well-being to handle.

So many things I contemplate. One, why I have not been granted a more technical mind by the Almighty to attend to my various educational assignments. I wouldn't exactly adhere to any education system, except with the thought that self-learning coupled with coaching would be able to push my limits further than what I can hope for. A good, and reasonable thought, if it was not for the Machiavellian-seeming consequences behind every hidden corner. Some things just do not work the way you want them to work, even with the best of intentions and all the theories that you try to put into practice.

Peace, sometimes I do not have, and I take to my burdens with a sip of carnality, in the hopes that indulging myself in some sort of pleasure would drown my sighs for a while. Not so, as each bout would leave an individual such as I in another state that I do not wish for a extra - remorse.

I don't mean to do badly in the things that I do. I was gifted in some areas, I know that, but if I were to pursue for a certain goal, why should I not get to see how things would turn out, as compared to those who see for a second before understanding? Why does my doing have to take years and ages to comprehend?

Ah, but this is the product of being different. To choose a place different from where your friends go, in the hopes that new lands would reap new harvests, but it is not always so. Think, the pioneers of my thoughts when they disembark from their caravans onto the plains of new reason, expecting to find green grasses of knowledge, but find that underneath lie the rocky ground of box-thinking.

Metaphorically speaking, or I am just speaking in metaphors.


No man is truly the same, and every man who aspires to be another man simply falls short of himself, because himself is not who the other man is. Like all those nu-metal/emo bands, who piss me off from time to time.

I'll say it again, like I've said before. Mods cool me down.


Its a sad transition when the author shifts his outlook from that of a raven to that of a broken record.