Month: February 2014

Rarity of Quiet

Corned Beef Hashtag

3515780160_1740ac98aa_z

It starts at 6 a.m. with the alarms that wake us up.

Then the television goes on for the news, because so much has probably changed in the four or five hours that, maybe, I’ve been asleep. The coffee maker gurgles and burps in the background. The toaster pops and the skillet sizzles. The child groans and complains in an effort to resist getting out of bed, once she is up, fed, and  dressed,  I exchange a brief goodbye with my wife I open the door with a creak. I walk to the car, my daughter in front of me, shuffling her feet across the pavement.

The car rumbles to a start, the heater roars as it blows the still cold air through the vents. My daughter asks me to listen to the radio so I tap my phone to life and turn on the app to bring up her…

View original post 449 more words

Nihilism = depression

I have severe depression, mainly due to hardly ever experiencing joy and constantly telling myself that “certain events in life but be enjoyed at the time they occur.” While it is obvious to enjoy things and cherish them before they die or change it just seems, for me, that even engaging in it is pointless.

I guess this state of mind originated from my spiritual maturity. I find materialistic things in the world a large scale contradiction to the more natural, ecological system. For example side walks damage our joints when we walk on them barefoot hence one of the many reason we have shoes. What I am try to say is that as we advance we make life much more complex while nature advances it is more in depth. Certain technologies will be outdated in 1 month and there are people who want the newest and most efficient thing while others just want something for its utilization and to make life more simple. There is also the fact that we seem to be destroying ourselves in the process of our advancement. I guess to clarify would be an example of the longer lifespans of people in the past generations and how a person’s lifespan is shorter each generation or how the soil in the earth (in some areas) are lacking proper nutrients. It seems that slowly this planet is dying. I guess it would mean just to enjoy your life everyday. I am sorry to anyone who reads this in the future or anyone who is possibly reading this now that I did not convey my point or articulate my thoughts.

#nojudgment 8 Things You Should Never Be Ashamed Of

Typical Blogger

By May June

Our society is full of artificial norms and fake standards. Whatever is attractive is whatever you’re not. Whatever is normal is whatever you’re not. Whatever is popular is whatever you’re not.  Whatever is ideal is whatever is impossible.

Despite this, people are going to judge. You can’t stop them. But you can stop caring. Instead of worrying what others are going to think, embrace your quirks and guilty pleasures.

Surround yourself with people who love you for who you are and screw the haters. You should never have to start a sentence with, “No judgment, but…”

Be unique. Be spontaneous. Be free. If you’re not going to be you, then who will?

To get you started, here are 8 things you should embrace and never have to hide. Enjoy!

View original post 534 more words

Respect the silence

(Will revise)
A common misconstrued (ity) Is the concept of perspective in a social setting. For example as I walked into the gym for my back workout I was immediately told by one of the employees that they aren’t afraid of me.

What is so inaccurate about this statement is that introduces one of the following problems: I am being gossiped about or I am forming a wall of prejudice by the people that also attend this gym

Although I find it amusing, but it is also annoying. This is probably a good topic to build my essay of off but we will have to see in the near future. I kind of barked at one of the employees in an aggressive way, it wasn’t roo aggressive were it can be viewed as a threat; it just disheartened me over how I had to treat someone in this way in order to figure them out.

Therefore a common but esoteric phrase is given from this fact: respect the silence. This is often a confusing statement as you literally have to respect something that every human despises – nothingness. You may know you may not, but when in an environment with a little to no sound you adapt to the slightest sound and begin to hear, one can say that the louder, more prominent sounds we hear then intensified. To sum it up you end up hearing your heart beat, your blood flowing, your hair falling. In this room, if a person was to last more than 45min they would end up going insane, not sit still. Their mind would be so agitated, it would be like ice skating close up or nails on a chalkboard

A simple conversation

Today I had a little chat with a stranger on a bus. I was very disappointed in myself over the fact I couldn’t keep on the same subject and I couldn’t relate to his perspective. I was an amateur when it came to a discussion on the collegiate system in U.S. no one in my family went to college unfortunately.

I just kept asking questions, being loquacious, trying to learn more about the subject and find an opening to relate to his perspective. It was very sad. I think I should attend a speech therapist or possibly take extra communication classes at college to help.

I noticed though that I have a more direct approach to speech than in writing, but this can be true for everyone due to tone of voice and emotions being easily exhibited in person.

How long will I live?

I always wanted to be a bodybuilder. I find weightlifting reinvigorating personally as well as beneficial for my mind in the long run. However, an oddity has occurred in my early teen and I honestly can not recall how this oddity originated: I either have an asymmetrical rib cage or I endured some sort of physical trauma on my rib cage and repressed the event. (Remember I am forgetting a lot due to repression of the self)

I am afraid of looking at it in the mirror, but when I do chest work outs that require a push-like force (working out the inner chest) or an abdominal workout that focuses on the upper abdominals, certain pain occurs along with shortness of breathe. Evidently this would conjure following theory: If i was to build enough muscle could I damage myself due to the density of the region? Or is it just fate, I will not grow and I will possibly not live long?

It peeks my curiosity so much….

My writing

I am hoping this blog improves my writing style and vocabulary. I have been told that it lacks overall fluency in how it conveys an argument or universally a message as a whole. I am not direct and I rarely address my opinion on a subject. I have a very bad word pool; I use words that give a general focus, not a precise one, in order to minimize error. It is truly sad.

I always had trouble with writing, mainly because I went to many schools and it caused me to be confused due to experiencing different curriculums so rapidly. I never had a voice in the first place nor did I get to exercise any of the new vocab words I would learn due to having no friends or my parents not being able to comprehend and express themselves in a conversation. As a child my mother wrote her essays for me, mainly due to the fact I had poor social skills, as stated above. Her style was so simplistic, I imitated it with ease. My 5th grade teacher also wrote some paragraphs for me in order to help strengthen my arguments. it was very sad. I read books, but not something that was non-fiction. I figured non-fiction was too obvious and easily implied. I read fiction to spark interest and wonder, in a way reading fiction allowed me to escape reality due to the illusion of imagination and therefore avoid any misfortune in my environment,

In High school writing was scary, teachers focused on my handwriting so much that I would often have to rewrite essays for half credit. My writing signified a very nervous and sensitive person. I made it carry a slant to the right end of the paper, this was intentional due to never learning cursive. It helped my handwriting in general become presentable and easy to read, but sometimes I would forget the slant and my writing would be unreadable or just overall frustrating to read.

sophomore year was hell for me. While all of these students in my honors English class had a decent vocabulary I didn’t even know how to form a thesis or an overall argument. I didn’t know what analysis was in writing. This is when I started having memory loss, I would forget eventually what grammar was and what a thesis was, what formed a thesis and how the reader would perceive it as something else, what elements overall effected writing in general have been forgotten at the end of sophomore year. What was even more frustrating was history class, my first AP class. we had weekly essays on certain topics, very obvious topics, but still intriguing. My teacher sometimes could not comprehend what I was even writing on due to different types of pressure I applied and rushing myself. When we had a painting as evidence in essay, I described its value, and my teacher marked this analysis. It wasn’t even similar to the prompt. I just described it so I can help connect the ideas I was trying to portray, but it was overall insufficient because once I described the painting and what it signified I didn’t know what else to say. it was easily implied by my description, my summary I guess. Then I  was being hopeful over the possible fact that he thought I was not producing any analysis due to my writing being difficult to read. I kept telling myself this, hoping it was true. Most likely lying to myself.

As I entered IB, people where adapting more faster than me. I felt behind so greatly that  I cursed my genetics. I tried my hardest but then I moved back to the school I attended in sophomore year, their IB program was more developed. Kids were comprehending physics problems that would be taught at UC Davis my teacher claimed.  I  was getting depressed over how my dreams would never come true, the illusion of imagination, of dreaming, was retaliating back. I was never going to go to  4 year university, there is nothing special about me, I have no talents, I was never supposed to be born. My father called me a loser and retarded……..what was funny was that he dropped out of high school…. and borrowed money from others, pretending he would pay them back.   

I was very depressed over the fact I failed almost all my classes. I missed almost half of the semester due to laying in bed over my depression. I was hopeless and very heartbroken over the fact that I was never going to be successful, i was going to be like my parents; Acknowledge your children as tools and blame your problems o them, tell them they were never supposed to be born, etc. When I moved back to southern California, my grandmother pulled strings in order to help me graduate High School. I willingly dropped RMHS’s IB program due to being too confused over the different syllabus’s and concentrating on just  graduation.

Now I attend a community college and I just want to get by English so badly, just a C would make me feel happy.  I am fine with my writing right now, but what makes me feel so distraught is the fact that whenever I read someone’s  writing  I get so depressed and unhappy over the fact that this person will do better than me in the real world, that they are better than me in every way.  I know that my writing is terrible compared to others. It takes roughly an hour for my classmates to write a 600 word paper while form it takes 2 hours. It isn’t even as good as their writing , it’s worse. It lacks a voice and a tone and proper syntax and formality, it lack presentation and aggressiveness.

I am hoping that I pass this class

 

 

Hardly a self-evaluaton

when I think about my past experiences I wonder if there are other people who have experienced so much psychological torture as I have. I kept forgetting things, It felt as if i was slowly dying and had little to cling onto  Whenever I was depressed it feels like it would feel like i was about to die and then I suddenly burst with a vital essence that fills my environment I guess this could be hope, or possibly faith but not anymore. I was a very intelligent kid, full of wonder and curiosity, an urge to live but after everything my parents have done to me, how they criticized me, hit me, starved me, teased me i realize that my mind is lost, It isn’t the fact that there are people who are better than me , it’s the fact that i do not even feel human anymore

I mean that i never had friends, I never had a family or parents that adored me and cared for me, i never had someone who could be there for me, I never had a peaceful state of mind. I cant even relate to person on an emotional level anymore. I just lock up and do not know what to say. I never had a fluent writing style because of this long silence, and also because of my voice being so underdeveloped. I stutter now.

The only thing I wonder about is why I ever existed in the first place. I  mean it is as if god himself never wanted me to be conceived unto the world. I know this is cliché but being the fact that I almost died at birth and the fact that I was only born into miserable environment, I feel as if never was to be born in the first place, that i truly was a mistake 

I feel like my mind is slowly withering away. I mean when I think of the possibility of actual kindness existing I view it as null. Why exactly? well people are only virtuous due to their job or their role in society. I just wish I experienced joy and happiness for once. I want to go to college just to be able to have a high paying job. To experience the value of a family again but from a different. perspective. Just having a child who is better than me will make me happy, it would make me feel as if my existence was accomplished. But when I think of my poor social skills  I know I wouldn’t last in a work environment, when i think of how i burst into tears because a girl tells me she doesn’t care about my self-loathing comments i realize no woman would want to put up with that.

 

 

Just a glimpse at what gaming is capable

http://www.cancerresearchuk.org/support-us/play-to-cure-genes-in-space

read this! is your mind blown? Mine is.

 

This is a wonderful advancement  in how video games can be used to improve society. I mean we already have mobile apps helping with vision and FPS games curing PTSD in those who serve the military. Overall there is a new form of psychology being introduced right now and it is very cool.  RIght now though I am trying to have  time to focus on the more theoretical aspects of the psychology of games and not the clinical (which of course I will dig into later.)

It’s Just amazing though what we can do with video games.

What I am aiming to discuss is the following:

  • the correlation between FGs and ches
  • what effect our perception of game
  • an analysis on the positive and negative perceptions on gaming

I will be more specific later. I just made caramel bakhlawa and need to fix it