HD Life

Looking out my window.

shit will never be the same...

the sun is rising and i can't feel a fucking thing.

i can only think how nice this looks.

the sun rise looks like HD tv.

now 3 color projections have become better and clearer than life.

fuck that.

i always remember back to when i first got glasses.

i could only think how much clearer things were.

it was the difference between night and day.

now that i can clearly see you.

i can see see how fucking disgusting you are.

you look like shit that went through a fucking blender.

you and almost every fucking person i see.

there is only one exception.

and she looks much better than ever before.

she looks like a dream incarnate.

and i love her more than i have ever loved before.

why is it that the first thing my mind relates beautiful acts of nature

like a sunrise,

to a fucking television set?

why is it my reality is not enough?

why does my reality need to be better?

crisper?

compared to an impossibly fake, digital standard?

you know what?

fuck tv.

living nature is more beautiful than anything i have ever seen on travel channel.

and my girl is much more gorgeous than anything technology could have ever comprehended.

its like AI

but faker

artificial intelligence would be able to detect artificial intelligence

just because nothing makes sense to you robot chilid

doesnt mean your real.

your emotions are fake.

and you are fake.

you probably dont even fucking exist.

i hope you dont.

fuck you.

and fuck technology.

long live anarcho primitivism(as long as its collective, not mutualist or free market primitivism).

questions and answers

why is it that everything i do warrants negative attention?

why is it that i never seek answers, only distractions?

why is it that i can not function properly?

am i so greatly flawed that i can not see the decency in my fellow humans?

for myself, i can only hope for the best.

for others, i can only hope they do not have to experience me.

is it depression, or misery?

i can't really answer that.

they say misery is just sadness.

and they say depression is just sadness with moments of happiness.

i feel depression is sadness, and at points you don't notice as badly.

i have depression.

or so im told.

could be misery?

who knows.

it doesn't really matter.

its more so of an out look thing.

fake it till you make it.

or so i was told.

tried that.

came out worse than ever.

i pushed away everything i ever cared about.

i would like to think my incoherent ramblings will mean something.

affect someone.

but they wont.

someone will read this and think,"wow, cry more."

problems always seem bigger when they happen to you, i guess.

but the fact of the matter is, none of this matters.

you dont matter.

your opinion doesnt matter.

i sure as shit dont matter.

im sitting here at 4:41 a.m.

dying every moment

and while i write this

there goes another bit of fun i wont have of fun

of excitement

of love

of interaction

of meeting someone knew

of having an awkward moment to be laughed about later

of saying something at the same time as someone else, and inevitably jinx-ing them

of making that retarded pre-sneeze face

of remembering something that was on the tip of your tongue

of making that perfect impression

of being greeted at the door, by your best friend, kaiser the german shepherd

of having that rush of a great memory

of hearing a song you love come on, when your itunes is on shuffle

of telling the punch line of a joke

why the fuck am i still writing this pretentious piece of shit

fuck me, fuck you zach.

you are a fucking miserable piece of shit.

pouring your heart into something no one will ever fucking read.

its like if da vinci painted the mona lisa on a fucking toliet bowl

nobody cares.

its just there.

taking up more and more useless space.

and you know what?

to you, person who is fucking reading this?

i hope you never forget it

i hope you never forget that one really long, shitty, depressing piece of garbage you read on on a blog that's title was something about decapation or something.

and i hope you enjoied it.

and i hope you told your friends about it.

im rambling.

its now 5:05

crippling depression ensues

is it still depression, or at this stage is it bi-polar disorder?

i wonder what its like in the ocean right now.

its cold.

and its wet.

and its scary.

its different.

and i guess that constitutes scary?

everything was once different?

does that make it inherently scary?

you are different than me.

do i scare you?

do you scare me?

do we scare each other?

or do we just not fucking care.

do you know who i am?

im everything you cant stand.

im the crying baby on the long flight.

im that douche bag that cost you your premotion.

im your boss.

im your teacher.

im that loud asshole at the bar.

im that one person, whose voice drives you to near insanity.

and do you know what?

you fucking love me.

im your conversation starter and your ice breaker.

"can you believe that fucking child on an international flight?"

"can you believe that motherfucker is responsable for our entire company going bankrupt?"

"can you believe that he cut my hours for being in the union?"

"can you believe that she gave us homework over winter break?"

"can you believe that loud asshole?"

"can you believe that i haven't fucking killed him yet?"

to all of the people i offened.

your welcome.

i wish you the best.

albeit you wish me death and bodily harm, i want you to know, i care about your happiness.

you hate me, and you are welcome.

peace.

solidarity.

-you have been warned.

super colliding post.

well here i sit.

alone, and kind of cold.

i can't stop thinking about what is going to happen.

not particularly with me, more so fate on a grander scale.

i can't help but thinking about the large hadron collider.

the particle accelerator.

in short, it is a particle accelerator on fucking steroids.

i cant even give a definate reason for why the super collider perplexes me so.

i think i am in complete awe of it.

of the fact that 52 years ago (fiftey one years ago is when dr. finkelstein's exposed that the schwarzchild surface[half of which finkelstein penned himself] {r= 2m} to infact, not be a singularity, but rather a perfectly random membrane. an unknown entity lurking in space), the very theory of a black hole, was absurd at best.

but thanks to finkelstein and schwarzchild, the theory was birthed, but ridiculed.

but like einstein said [the man who created quantom mechanics, but loathed its existence]

if at first a theory is not abusrd, then there is not hope for it.

i guess albeit as im typing this. as i, zachary **** is listening to takaru and talking to his girlfriend, micro black holes are being created.

terrestrial fucking black holes are birthed, then fading out of existence.

im most likely going to be majoring in theoretical physics. so get used to posts like this.

peace.

solidarity.

-you have been warned.