Right. So I was out doing some yardwork today.. gathering up leaves, mowing, etc and such. I was using an electric leaf blower to gather the leaves in a pile, since I didn't feel like raking the infuriatingly dry pieces of crap.
Walking back and forth around the yard in an attempt to direct the leaves into a pile near the center of my yard proved a trifle more complicating that I had originally guessed. The wind offered some backfiring to my leaf blowing, but that wasn't the main antagonist here.
It was the damned extension cord! During my traversing back n' forth acrossed the yard, the cord had somehow gotten wrapped around my feet and various bits of lawn furniture. It felled me a few times. I got back on my feet each time, but the damned cord was ever so persistent in keeping me grounded.
I swear it was out to get me. But no matter, I conquered it in the end. I showed it who was boss. Wrapped the fucker up. So it sits in the shed, plotting its next course of action and devious plans to ground me once again. Time will tell, time will tell...
Monday, November 5, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Crossing Barriers
There are barriers in my life that need crossing. My fears, my anxieties, my worries. In truth, these barriers need to be destroyed. I imagine myself standing in the road with hundreds of barriers of varying degress of chaos and pointy things that look like they could kill me if I approached them the wrong way. on the other side of this insanity stands a girl. A girl that I am willing to risk life and heart for just to get to know her better.
"Dude, you're out of your mind. No girl is worth that much trouble." You see all these movies with the guy trying to get to this girl, but he has to go through these outrageous obstacles to get to her. Albeit, the majority of my obstacles are mentality-based, the idea is still the same. Why then, do people like those movies? I doubt they subconsciously find it appealing because they know no guy or girl is worth that amount of trouble. Nah, they find it appealing because it's nice to hear about that stuff. They wish it would happen to them. They wish someone loved them so much that he/she would go to the ends of the earth to get to them. It's a romance.
So why then, is it so weird for someone to actually do that? You do outrageous things for someone.. and they don't recognize any of it. Or maybe they do, but just think you're a little overeager. Just to clarify (ashley), I'm not applying that last bit to myself. But it does happen.
The barriers that I am crossing for Ashley might seem like nothing to someone else, but they are staggering to me. I've never done anything on my own. For real. I have never gone on a trip by myself, let alone planned one on my own. To travel across 6-7 states. To approach a congested terminal. To talk to people that could be abrasive. To do things I've never done before. And to see how much I will really end up liking the person I'm going to see. And to make the trip back. Well actually, theres a whole crapload more to it than that. Like I said. Hundreds of barriers. A lot of them looking potenitally catastrophic.
Wish me luck :)
"Dude, you're out of your mind. No girl is worth that much trouble." You see all these movies with the guy trying to get to this girl, but he has to go through these outrageous obstacles to get to her. Albeit, the majority of my obstacles are mentality-based, the idea is still the same. Why then, do people like those movies? I doubt they subconsciously find it appealing because they know no guy or girl is worth that amount of trouble. Nah, they find it appealing because it's nice to hear about that stuff. They wish it would happen to them. They wish someone loved them so much that he/she would go to the ends of the earth to get to them. It's a romance.
So why then, is it so weird for someone to actually do that? You do outrageous things for someone.. and they don't recognize any of it. Or maybe they do, but just think you're a little overeager. Just to clarify (ashley), I'm not applying that last bit to myself. But it does happen.
The barriers that I am crossing for Ashley might seem like nothing to someone else, but they are staggering to me. I've never done anything on my own. For real. I have never gone on a trip by myself, let alone planned one on my own. To travel across 6-7 states. To approach a congested terminal. To talk to people that could be abrasive. To do things I've never done before. And to see how much I will really end up liking the person I'm going to see. And to make the trip back. Well actually, theres a whole crapload more to it than that. Like I said. Hundreds of barriers. A lot of them looking potenitally catastrophic.
Wish me luck :)
Friday, September 28, 2007
What I’ve come to realize...
This is something I wrote to my good friend, Ashley. I had to vent my mind to someone who would let me do so. I trust her. I felt it was a good thing to put up, if nothing else but just to keep record of what I said. So here goes...
There's a whole lot going through my head right now, and yet, there isn't. idk. Very uncomfortable.
I know things aren't as bad for me as I make them out to be. There are people much much worse off than I am.. But knowing that still doesn't help me feel any better. I still feel like shit, even tho I may be determined to get my life in order.
I've made many mistakes in my life. The point when I started playing EQ2 was definitely a fork in the road, and while sometimes it feels like a mistake, other times, I remember the friends I've made and wonder how on earth could that be a mistake.
I burned a lot of bridges with my RL friends when I started playing EQ2. I lost touch. Never wanted to hang out with them, and I do regret that. But at the same time, if I hadn't gone down the road I chose, I doubt I would have ended up with the friends I met online, which have been much tighter friends than any of the RL ones I've had.
So many things I wish I would have never done, but also brings good things to the table that makes me glad I did do them.
Like recent events. Part of me wishes I shouldn't have come back to EQ2.. But then if I hadn't, none of this would've happened. I was quite content at staying in my room doing nothing all day... which isn't healthy. This whole thing made me realize that I NEED to get off my ass and do something with my life. It gave me a superb boost of motivation.
I guess I'm starting to realize that with good, there is some bad that comes with it.
EQ2 was what brought me out of depression the first time. I guess it is fitting that I left it feeling depressed.
The choices that we make... end up making who we are. But at times, it isn't a matter of choice. I didn't chose to screw up a friendship. The winds of fate blew, and my little sailboat got caught in it's path. It did get knocked over, but in time I can get it upright and fix it up. (hmm that was a good metaphor.)
As I sit here typing, I begin to find myself not thinking about what I am typing, but rather letting it flow from my heart. Literature is a fluid. Good literature flows from the writer. You don't have to be a genius to produce profound writing. If you feel what you type comes from what you truly believe without a second thought at all, then you were meant to say it.
My undulating will to write at this point in time, puts my mind at ease.
***Edit: Chris pointed out to me that he thought I sounded upset here... In a way, yeah. When I wrote it, I was depressed. But immediately after I finished writing it, I felt clear-minded and very much relieved. And each consecutive time I read this, I feel better and better. If you need any more confirmation, look at the mood of this blog. VERY optimistic!
There's a whole lot going through my head right now, and yet, there isn't. idk. Very uncomfortable.
I know things aren't as bad for me as I make them out to be. There are people much much worse off than I am.. But knowing that still doesn't help me feel any better. I still feel like shit, even tho I may be determined to get my life in order.
I've made many mistakes in my life. The point when I started playing EQ2 was definitely a fork in the road, and while sometimes it feels like a mistake, other times, I remember the friends I've made and wonder how on earth could that be a mistake.
I burned a lot of bridges with my RL friends when I started playing EQ2. I lost touch. Never wanted to hang out with them, and I do regret that. But at the same time, if I hadn't gone down the road I chose, I doubt I would have ended up with the friends I met online, which have been much tighter friends than any of the RL ones I've had.
So many things I wish I would have never done, but also brings good things to the table that makes me glad I did do them.
Like recent events. Part of me wishes I shouldn't have come back to EQ2.. But then if I hadn't, none of this would've happened. I was quite content at staying in my room doing nothing all day... which isn't healthy. This whole thing made me realize that I NEED to get off my ass and do something with my life. It gave me a superb boost of motivation.
I guess I'm starting to realize that with good, there is some bad that comes with it.
EQ2 was what brought me out of depression the first time. I guess it is fitting that I left it feeling depressed.
The choices that we make... end up making who we are. But at times, it isn't a matter of choice. I didn't chose to screw up a friendship. The winds of fate blew, and my little sailboat got caught in it's path. It did get knocked over, but in time I can get it upright and fix it up. (hmm that was a good metaphor.)
As I sit here typing, I begin to find myself not thinking about what I am typing, but rather letting it flow from my heart. Literature is a fluid. Good literature flows from the writer. You don't have to be a genius to produce profound writing. If you feel what you type comes from what you truly believe without a second thought at all, then you were meant to say it.
My undulating will to write at this point in time, puts my mind at ease.
***Edit: Chris pointed out to me that he thought I sounded upset here... In a way, yeah. When I wrote it, I was depressed. But immediately after I finished writing it, I felt clear-minded and very much relieved. And each consecutive time I read this, I feel better and better. If you need any more confirmation, look at the mood of this blog. VERY optimistic!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Peggle
Peggle. The game of the Gods.
If you have not played this game, you must. MUST, I SAY! Only then will you know true enlightenment. Nirvana exists within the destruction of all orange pegs!
PEGGLE!!!!!!!!!!
If you have not played this game, you must. MUST, I SAY! Only then will you know true enlightenment. Nirvana exists within the destruction of all orange pegs!
PEGGLE!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Moving, but slowly...
My life has been ever problematic. When I take the time to sift through the memories that almost elude my reach, memories of childhood, I remember the difficulties I faced even though I did not immediately realize that I was most certainly different.
Pre-school. I remember very little. I remember I had one friend, the epitomical opposite of myself. Outgoing, brash, and never stopped talking. From my parents account, if a teacher said my name, I often closed my eyes and frose in whatever position I was in at the time, not moving until the teacher got fed up with me.
Elementary school. The nightmare begins here. Not really any isolated moments, but the entire duration of elementary was in a constant nightmarish state, which only got worse with each passing year. Second grade was a profound leap forward into the abyss. My dad got a new job in York, PA(about a 3 hour drive from Allentown, PA). He would commute to work every monday, and would come home every following friday night. This continued into the 4th grade. During that time period, my homework and class participation went from almost none to absolute zero. I do not remember much, but I do remember not being happy.
4th to 8th grade. The nightmare ended; The reality of the nightmare began. This may be the worst section of my educational experience. This section is devoted to my peers. Family changes may have been the catalyst of my previous nightmare. In November of the 4th grade, we had moved closer to York; Mechanicsburg, PA. New school. New peers. New Horrors. It is incredible how much of a difference in attitudes that you see from inner-city kids to suburbians. That kind of stuck-up attitude. "You're drawing that wrong", "you don't know long division?", "what do you mean you don't know how to play baseball?". Kids yelling at me. Constantly being punished for not doing things I didn't know how to do. Never being explained anything to me. And most of all, being dragged out of the all-purpose room, clinging to the door, whilst the principal tugs at my feet and the entire gym class is laughing at me. All becuase I refused to play an activity I did not enjoy nor even see the purpose of doing. 1 year over, 4 more to go. I almost didn't make it.
6th to 8th grade was the most helpless struggle I have ever experienced in my life. And it was helpless. So many wrongs existed with so little rights. Always being the first to get blamed, always being accused, fucking ALWAYS doing something WRONG, even when I was trying to do everything in my power to do something RIGHT. Always singled out, when they knew that is exactly what I feared the most. And none of the teacher ever got my name right!! How hard is it, seriously? Jordan Cain. What is it again? Jason? Jared? Jordon? Jordan Rink? Jason Coin? What the heck, people!
Highschool. Reality settled in, the hellhole brought its teeth to bear. Just to clarify, these comparisons of diabolic proportions are not to overdramaticize my experiences. When I say highschool was a seethingly hellish experience, I'm not joking. If anything, that is a terrible understatement. The antagonist here had a role reversal from the last section. The teachers and the school administration were the enemy here. I made quite a few friends in highschool than I had in middleschool or elementary(though my friends I made in elementary did save my sanity at least). The teachers were really out to get me here. Perhaps only 2 or 3 of them were of any help, and saw my plight for what it was. The rest saw my quiet nature as defiance. As if I may be undermining their roles as the authority figure in the classroom or some crap. I spoke when I had something to say. When I didn't have anything to say or didn't know what they were asking, I usually just sat in silence, which seemed perfectly logical to me. Apparently, it doesn't work like that. If you talk too much, they look to you as disruptive. If you hardly ever talk at all, they look to you as disruptive. The teachers purposefully called on me even when I didn't have my hand rasied. I would have figured that they'd learn that when I knew the answer I'd, raise my hand. If I didn't know, I wouldn't. So calling on me when I didn't have my hand raised seems a little pointless, I think.
9th grade signaled the year of my nervous breakdown. It took me 'till mid-11th grade to recover from that. I broke down 2nd week of 9th grade, I didn't attend a full period of a class until 10th grade. I had to take summer school for the 11th grade, during which time, my summer school teacher asked my parents if I had down syndrome. O_o 12th grade was horrid. A torrent of nastiness directed squarely at myself. Graduation was THE MOST happiest day of my life. But for all of the hardships I endured during my time in school, I have no doubt it was as hard or harder on my parents.
4 years since I graduation from highschool. I am a long-time attendee of Pennsylvania's largest LAN group, in which I am very active in. I just started going back to school at the local community college for a couple classes. Hell, I deserved a 4 year break after my foray with the public school system. I am no longer as shy as I used to be, and my social skills have gone up dramatically. I am, in essence, a new person.
Things are moving, but slowly.
Pre-school. I remember very little. I remember I had one friend, the epitomical opposite of myself. Outgoing, brash, and never stopped talking. From my parents account, if a teacher said my name, I often closed my eyes and frose in whatever position I was in at the time, not moving until the teacher got fed up with me.
Elementary school. The nightmare begins here. Not really any isolated moments, but the entire duration of elementary was in a constant nightmarish state, which only got worse with each passing year. Second grade was a profound leap forward into the abyss. My dad got a new job in York, PA(about a 3 hour drive from Allentown, PA). He would commute to work every monday, and would come home every following friday night. This continued into the 4th grade. During that time period, my homework and class participation went from almost none to absolute zero. I do not remember much, but I do remember not being happy.
4th to 8th grade. The nightmare ended; The reality of the nightmare began. This may be the worst section of my educational experience. This section is devoted to my peers. Family changes may have been the catalyst of my previous nightmare. In November of the 4th grade, we had moved closer to York; Mechanicsburg, PA. New school. New peers. New Horrors. It is incredible how much of a difference in attitudes that you see from inner-city kids to suburbians. That kind of stuck-up attitude. "You're drawing that wrong", "you don't know long division?", "what do you mean you don't know how to play baseball?". Kids yelling at me. Constantly being punished for not doing things I didn't know how to do. Never being explained anything to me. And most of all, being dragged out of the all-purpose room, clinging to the door, whilst the principal tugs at my feet and the entire gym class is laughing at me. All becuase I refused to play an activity I did not enjoy nor even see the purpose of doing. 1 year over, 4 more to go. I almost didn't make it.
6th to 8th grade was the most helpless struggle I have ever experienced in my life. And it was helpless. So many wrongs existed with so little rights. Always being the first to get blamed, always being accused, fucking ALWAYS doing something WRONG, even when I was trying to do everything in my power to do something RIGHT. Always singled out, when they knew that is exactly what I feared the most. And none of the teacher ever got my name right!! How hard is it, seriously? Jordan Cain. What is it again? Jason? Jared? Jordon? Jordan Rink? Jason Coin? What the heck, people!
Highschool. Reality settled in, the hellhole brought its teeth to bear. Just to clarify, these comparisons of diabolic proportions are not to overdramaticize my experiences. When I say highschool was a seethingly hellish experience, I'm not joking. If anything, that is a terrible understatement. The antagonist here had a role reversal from the last section. The teachers and the school administration were the enemy here. I made quite a few friends in highschool than I had in middleschool or elementary(though my friends I made in elementary did save my sanity at least). The teachers were really out to get me here. Perhaps only 2 or 3 of them were of any help, and saw my plight for what it was. The rest saw my quiet nature as defiance. As if I may be undermining their roles as the authority figure in the classroom or some crap. I spoke when I had something to say. When I didn't have anything to say or didn't know what they were asking, I usually just sat in silence, which seemed perfectly logical to me. Apparently, it doesn't work like that. If you talk too much, they look to you as disruptive. If you hardly ever talk at all, they look to you as disruptive. The teachers purposefully called on me even when I didn't have my hand rasied. I would have figured that they'd learn that when I knew the answer I'd, raise my hand. If I didn't know, I wouldn't. So calling on me when I didn't have my hand raised seems a little pointless, I think.
9th grade signaled the year of my nervous breakdown. It took me 'till mid-11th grade to recover from that. I broke down 2nd week of 9th grade, I didn't attend a full period of a class until 10th grade. I had to take summer school for the 11th grade, during which time, my summer school teacher asked my parents if I had down syndrome. O_o 12th grade was horrid. A torrent of nastiness directed squarely at myself. Graduation was THE MOST happiest day of my life. But for all of the hardships I endured during my time in school, I have no doubt it was as hard or harder on my parents.
4 years since I graduation from highschool. I am a long-time attendee of Pennsylvania's largest LAN group, in which I am very active in. I just started going back to school at the local community college for a couple classes. Hell, I deserved a 4 year break after my foray with the public school system. I am no longer as shy as I used to be, and my social skills have gone up dramatically. I am, in essence, a new person.
Things are moving, but slowly.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Personal Rant
I sometimes feel that people do not understand me or even take me seriously when I tell them I have problems. It is unfortunate when they have to give me their personal view on how I should live or have lived my life.
"If I were your parents, I would have kicked your ass out of the house at 19."
I only recently heard someone say that, but I have had that particular quote thrown at me time and time again from ignorant people who fail to understand why I am the way I am. Now, I have a great tolerance against a great many things. I am not easily offended. But things like that really do set me off.
I have heard people tell me, in consolation, that I am just as normal as everyone else. "Everybody has problems". Unfortunately, that does nothing to help me in the least. Not everyone has my problems. I know for a fact that not everyone had trouble in school. School was a hellish nightmare for me, that IS an underexaggeration. I cannot bring myself to describe how horrible it really was.
Sure, almost every kid goes through school with hatred for it. But my feelings go far beyond hatred. It is the incidents that happened to me during my 12 year nightmare. I will share a couple of these incidents that I recently shared with my friend Mike; they are a few of my most traumatic ones.
I should start out by mentioning that I do not function very well(meaning at all) around unfriendly people. When I say I do not function, I am referring to locking up, or just walking away from whatever is causing me to not function.
I despise organized physical sports. I believe it is how people react to me when they think the execution is obvious and I do not. Phys Ed, for example, was my most hated cirriculum in school. The people; Teachers and students alike, drove me insane. In 4th grade there was a day that we started the basketball classes. I never played basketball before that point. The teacher and my peers assumed I knew how. When I asked how, they gave me a very poor rundown of it. I tried, decided I didn't like it, and walked away from it. The principle was called in who, summarily, told me to go to his office. I refused, seeing no need. Well, he dragged me, by my feet, out of the room while I clung to the edges of the doorway for dear life. I have feared and loathed P.E. from that day onward.
People wonder why my self-esteem is so low. My fellow peers cheer on the fat kid with head gear, and bulging eyes when he tries to make a basket and misses it entirely. But as soon as I step up, I get jeering. It doesn't help when the instructor stands by chuckling to himself.
I've had similar experiences in school later on, and eventually the school basically decided to label myself as a deviant. I was lobbed into the class with all the "bad" kids, which did not help in any way. I did not function in those classes either; I was surrounded by very unfriendly people. So what was their answer? They put me into the class with all of the down syndrome kids. Apparently, the teachers thought I was mentally retarded and figured I was accidentally put into the normal classes. Figures they didnt bother to inform me or my parents beforehand.
I know there are things wrong with me, but the school did absolutely nothing to facilitate or try to help out in any of those areas. In retrospect, they most likely made things worse.
The only good thing that ever happened to me in school was in 5th grade. End of the year, I had gotten a straight A report card. That was the first, last, and only good thing to ever happen during all 12 years of school.
Asperger's Syndrome has taken its toll on me. I feel many people believe that I use AS as a scapegoat to be they way that I am. I do NOT take advantage of my problems. For instance, I do not sit and home 24/7 because I want to, all the while saying that I have issues therefore I can't function like everyone else so I can just sit here and play games all day. If I could, I would most definitely not be sitting here every day all day for years. But at this point in time, I am mentally unprepared to do much else. It is not by choice, or the disillusion of choice.
So I suppose the only thing left to say is, the way you live your own life, or rather, the way you feel that I should live my own life is NOT necessarily the best way. Your opinions are, more often than not, based upon your own pseronal experiences that do not relfect upon my own experiences.
"If I were your parents, I would have kicked your ass out of the house at 19."
I only recently heard someone say that, but I have had that particular quote thrown at me time and time again from ignorant people who fail to understand why I am the way I am. Now, I have a great tolerance against a great many things. I am not easily offended. But things like that really do set me off.
I have heard people tell me, in consolation, that I am just as normal as everyone else. "Everybody has problems". Unfortunately, that does nothing to help me in the least. Not everyone has my problems. I know for a fact that not everyone had trouble in school. School was a hellish nightmare for me, that IS an underexaggeration. I cannot bring myself to describe how horrible it really was.
Sure, almost every kid goes through school with hatred for it. But my feelings go far beyond hatred. It is the incidents that happened to me during my 12 year nightmare. I will share a couple of these incidents that I recently shared with my friend Mike; they are a few of my most traumatic ones.
I should start out by mentioning that I do not function very well(meaning at all) around unfriendly people. When I say I do not function, I am referring to locking up, or just walking away from whatever is causing me to not function.
I despise organized physical sports. I believe it is how people react to me when they think the execution is obvious and I do not. Phys Ed, for example, was my most hated cirriculum in school. The people; Teachers and students alike, drove me insane. In 4th grade there was a day that we started the basketball classes. I never played basketball before that point. The teacher and my peers assumed I knew how. When I asked how, they gave me a very poor rundown of it. I tried, decided I didn't like it, and walked away from it. The principle was called in who, summarily, told me to go to his office. I refused, seeing no need. Well, he dragged me, by my feet, out of the room while I clung to the edges of the doorway for dear life. I have feared and loathed P.E. from that day onward.
People wonder why my self-esteem is so low. My fellow peers cheer on the fat kid with head gear, and bulging eyes when he tries to make a basket and misses it entirely. But as soon as I step up, I get jeering. It doesn't help when the instructor stands by chuckling to himself.
I've had similar experiences in school later on, and eventually the school basically decided to label myself as a deviant. I was lobbed into the class with all the "bad" kids, which did not help in any way. I did not function in those classes either; I was surrounded by very unfriendly people. So what was their answer? They put me into the class with all of the down syndrome kids. Apparently, the teachers thought I was mentally retarded and figured I was accidentally put into the normal classes. Figures they didnt bother to inform me or my parents beforehand.
I know there are things wrong with me, but the school did absolutely nothing to facilitate or try to help out in any of those areas. In retrospect, they most likely made things worse.
The only good thing that ever happened to me in school was in 5th grade. End of the year, I had gotten a straight A report card. That was the first, last, and only good thing to ever happen during all 12 years of school.
Asperger's Syndrome has taken its toll on me. I feel many people believe that I use AS as a scapegoat to be they way that I am. I do NOT take advantage of my problems. For instance, I do not sit and home 24/7 because I want to, all the while saying that I have issues therefore I can't function like everyone else so I can just sit here and play games all day. If I could, I would most definitely not be sitting here every day all day for years. But at this point in time, I am mentally unprepared to do much else. It is not by choice, or the disillusion of choice.
So I suppose the only thing left to say is, the way you live your own life, or rather, the way you feel that I should live my own life is NOT necessarily the best way. Your opinions are, more often than not, based upon your own pseronal experiences that do not relfect upon my own experiences.
Monday, October 2, 2006
It's affecting my spelling!
I saw her on the corner when I awoke one morning. She just appeared out of nowhere. Her skin was sleek and smooth. Her curves, perfect. I wondered who she was or when she arrived. But I knew... oh yes, I knew. I knew she was something special. And I knew she would be mine.
I walked outside to see if anyone else noticed her. I saw a man who looked like he knew something about her. I inquired about where she came from. He said he just dropped her off and she'll be ready in a few weeks. Ready, you say? Hmmmm. He went on to explain that she was the fastest thing you ever experienced. Ready and fast? Oooh, I was starting to like this one.
She stayed there all day, not making a sound. the only movement I saw was her sway from the occasional breeze that came through. Strands of her beautiful, glistening extensions seemed to almost wave in my direction, as if beckoning to come for a closer look. But I was apprehensive. What if I could not afford her goods? I would not want to get attached only to find my love could not be quenched.
I talked to the man once more. He mentioned how cheap she was to use. I knew then, she was within my grasp. Days went by, and I lust for her ever the more. I glanced out my window every 5 minutes it seemed. Becoming obsessive. I read of other peoples experiences with her, and I was excited. I couldn't bear it any longer. But I knew she wouldn't give herself to me until she was ready. I could plug in, but nary an emotion would be felt. None, besides sadness and despair of course.
And so I await the arrival of Fiber Optic Internet. My true love! Broadband is my prostitute. I will have her soon enough. Only $45 a month too! 15Mb down, 2Mb up. Hellz yeah.
I walked outside to see if anyone else noticed her. I saw a man who looked like he knew something about her. I inquired about where she came from. He said he just dropped her off and she'll be ready in a few weeks. Ready, you say? Hmmmm. He went on to explain that she was the fastest thing you ever experienced. Ready and fast? Oooh, I was starting to like this one.
She stayed there all day, not making a sound. the only movement I saw was her sway from the occasional breeze that came through. Strands of her beautiful, glistening extensions seemed to almost wave in my direction, as if beckoning to come for a closer look. But I was apprehensive. What if I could not afford her goods? I would not want to get attached only to find my love could not be quenched.
I talked to the man once more. He mentioned how cheap she was to use. I knew then, she was within my grasp. Days went by, and I lust for her ever the more. I glanced out my window every 5 minutes it seemed. Becoming obsessive. I read of other peoples experiences with her, and I was excited. I couldn't bear it any longer. But I knew she wouldn't give herself to me until she was ready. I could plug in, but nary an emotion would be felt. None, besides sadness and despair of course.
And so I await the arrival of Fiber Optic Internet. My true love! Broadband is my prostitute. I will have her soon enough. Only $45 a month too! 15Mb down, 2Mb up. Hellz yeah.
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