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Showing posts with label Great Britain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Great Britain. Show all posts

Monday, September 13

Fitting in, as the paranoid schizophrenic narcissism movement’s poster boy mascot.

People who are adequately properly acquainted with me 

know that I have a hard time getting out of my head, when it comes to sitting down and socializing. I have to admit, I’ve been off, for a good stretch of time, given right now, and the months leading up to this point in time (Summer 2021), and there’d been little hope of seeing a clearing through the Los Angeles, CA “fog.” 

Here, in the militarized zone (TMZ) of Los Angeles, which is tech worker knowledge 101 (or, to be precise, “A+” certification priory of knowledge base, we, for one thing, don’t wake up, per se, in the morning. It just happens, eventually, as the sorry trudge through remaking ourselves, in professionalism, in a world where our Apple devices can’t capably we’ll be self-serviced, for one thing, and nobody much… well, everyone else, let’s say, would care to do the service on their devices for themselves. 

Okay. Actually, it’s not fog. At least, not that I could put my finger on it. Maybe the photo doesn’t capture it all that well, and it seems like a clear photo, above; from here to there, with my plain eyes, in viewing, the half-block, or so, distance from my vantage point, to the buildings nearby, I’ll say, are a bit “not quite” the standard “clear,” as could be said about “seeing things” and what might be expected, based on reasonably good vision. 

It’s easier to see the disparities in clarity, in the short-distance atmosphere of the place (DTLA) at night, through the early morning, lately, and I just happen to receive punishing intimations and suggestions, in my remote sensing assignment, laid upon myself (this started happening in 2012, right around this time of year, in fact) of all sorts of “me, myself (Jay)” types of storylines in my head, and it makes me really neurotic and somewhat casually dismissive of others, if they happen to break form with attending to the present moment, and with a purpose-driven mind about conversation, if anything’s to be said at all, about anything, for that matter, and as for myself, I’m readily one to admit that I’ve problems, and it’s “complicated,” let’s say. 

For example, I met a young lady last night, and she was a fawning courtesan to me, upon passing my way. I was digging through the garbage, trying to find some food, and there was a tasty soft drink in there, which I enjoyed, and she took to me, quite effectively, and I was drawn in to the prospect of making her acquaintanceship. We ended up speaking on friendly terms, well enough, as she acted as though she were enamored by me, but there was something just, perhaps, simply “in the way” of things. For one thing, she wanted to fix my recyclables collecting trait about myself, and she kept telling me that she would hold my bag for me, as we eventually left our initial place of meeting, and we went out for a walk (I wanted to go to the grocery store, for food; perhaps a bit extravagant, given that there was good food in the trash for me, that I hadn’t gotten to investigating and clearing for eats, by the time she met me). I do a standard gentleman, no problem, well enough, when I meet a new acquaintanceship, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have “not really” been an on-site, ITF, misfortunate stalking target, per se, lately; I don’t know what it is. Had they gotten been “talked to” about that sort of thing, or do I just look better? Is it my fragrance that I’m wearing, or is it because I put on some weight and muscle? Maybe it’s a bit of all of those things, although I am commonly troubled by how I look, facially, in the mirror, lately, on account of that I don’t get to sleep as much as I readily aught would sleep, give, how bothered and troubled I am, in my head. 

These developments,

I would say, would trouble anyone. Anyone who’s validly a peer to me, and many-to-most of them had abandoned me, and taken on a purpose about me, of disregarding that I have any decency about me, and all sorts of complaints and claims attesting to some sort of beliefs about me arise, in the dialectical, and I wind up being the center of people’s attention. Granted, it’s nice to be paid attention to, sometimes, and it’s even more delightful to win out, in intelligence, when somebody shows up to insult me, but the public is the greater determiner, I’ll say, of what’s truthfully valid and appropriate up-to-the-minute debriefing and slight course for facing judgment, from others, whereas I simply “hear,” or… 🤔 <_< “perceive,” I’ll put it, to be more appropriate, to the point, these various points of contention from former peers, who show up, in my “privacy” of my attending mind, at issue, and they simply never reach out on Facebook, or whatever, or respond, when I look them up and query them about how they’d been acting, in my head, which I happen to believe that they do, since I took on this schizophrenia sort of burden, back around this time of year, to be precise, tracing back to 2012. 

All sorts of wild stories and painful memories. 

Why not just admit to that you feel that way about me? I can fix it, if it’s a problem.

But the social ladder equivalent of being the gorilla’s silverback male, “given me,” endlessly (since back in 2012), shows back up, and I’m significantly troubled by what’s come of things, of my school days peers, and what they claim about me, or claim is significant topic of issue about me, and sometimes, I make them look truthfully, woefully, foolish (or worse), and I must say, I’ve got quite the penchant for the spoken or written word, and I’ve got a ton of great experiences to talk about, (if only) people would “actually” speak to me, which this girl, (getting back to the thread I had initiated, just a moment ago) was doing, with me. I had to eventually ditch her, though. Once, and then I came across her, again, and I’ve got it awrr rawr rough and tough, sometimes, with how I truly make a practice and discipline about life, to do life as I was brought up to be - a good baptist Christian man, since my boyhood, and stuff; I’ve got to make amends on what I’d been led astray for, in life, and presented of myself; my superficial self, amongst people, although I’d never quite all that much, to be honest, really betrayed my Christian upbringing. 

So I try to tame these wild ones - awrr rawr, rough and tough, with some patience, common sense, British intellect and know-how, of the cultural attainments made, on their part, given my Cantonese mother’s upbringing, and such: 

It’s just… how it is. Look it up. The British managed and ruled over Hong Kong, until 1997, I believe, imparting the early modern period and western traditions upon the Chinese, in Hong Kong - for 150 years (or so), until they returned Hong Kong to the Chinese government, at which time, it became… I dunno, “Chinese,” more so, (again; perhaps), and we happen to live in a Los Angeles, CA, where racial slights and slurs, and awrr rawr - rough and tough insults and “most casual” beliefs and practices of superiority and dominance features significantly, in the common mores and cares of society at large, and I’m one of them - the Cantonese; at least, a half of me. The other half is Lithuanian descent (my father, quite reliably - resembles the recent United States of America’s Vice President, Mike Pence, to be sure). 

Anyways, we all know how slight the Chinese get treated as, out here, and perhaps it’s largely a globalized perceptual basis that’s become familiar to many - the detriment to progress and the establishment of vast achievements and efforts put in to eliminating civil rights abuses, of others, and we’d “supposedly” (at least, in the courts, and in the minds of good Christian types of people, in America) gotten the slights, slurs, and casual insulting beliefs of our people straightened out, about many sorts and types of people that come to exist, in America, and that’s the primary basis of this country, to a large degree, on one hand. 

It just sucks, and I broke my hand, last month, punching the wall, exercising great lengths in patience and non-aggression, whereas I’m bound by the law, and - I’m on probation, on top of things, so if I mess up, again, in allowing physical violence to come of me, as for how others are treated, in life, I’m duly and highly susceptible to becoming remanded, if it gets around to that the police get called to attend to the issue, and I don’t much care to take a chance with that sort of thing. It’s a two year sentence that I was released, on conditional terms, and then, I didn’t follow through with anything, because I’d been bothered, in my mind, (schizophrenia), from back then (2017, or so), till now - fairly constantly, as a chronic and debilitating issue. 

Try it (not really, though <_<…) - breaking your hand against the wall, as an undisciplined fighter; as the angry person. I’ve got  a plate and pin, in my strong hand, and it was a one-two punch, that it was, this time around, but my weaker hand didn’t have all that I thought of myself - turns out. It’s healing up nicely, well enough, now, though. I’m a bit ambivalent about it. On one hand, I like the tough guy, scars, and such, sort of facets and traits about me, although I’m not quite… let’s say, “not disturbed,” of the mind, to attend to my higher purpose, and due diligence, to, like, the gym, or proper exercise, and stuff. I just go out, and I binge on drugs, and that’s obviously not allowed. I just feel that I need it. Not every drug, yet I’m woefully a habitually methamphetamines abuser, although I’m set on the self-maker statement, of my formative self esteem, and aspirations, of that I’m constantly trying to quit, and maybe - this time around, as for today - I’m going to do it properly, since I hear about such horrible things going on, and I don’t really care to elaborate on things, because of the degree of disgust that would be involved, about stuff, if I made it real, by talking about it. 

I feel like, maybe… some people care, and some people… just care “otherwise,” and significantly obsessively and abusively so, and I broke my hand against the wall, because I’ve entrained myself as a significantly astute Christian man, against doing life, of aggression, that. I could, …

but that would just spoil my self-affirming beliefs of that I could really do something in life, and I meet such great people, in my mind, and if only, at that, and violence, as a basis, isn’t all that much an appropriate, or date-worthy sort of topic to even touch upon - I can speak on so many other good and appropriate contexts, such as my feeding the birds thing, and the art associated with it; that’s all good and appropriate, enough - sort of topic that could, perhaps, … hmm. How to say it… I dunno. I’ll let others decide for themselves, and I’ll have things my way, and see how things go. 

I don’t really know what to say… if you don’t talk to me, about anything but abusive sorts of stuff to say about someone, and I know I look bad, lately (facially), sometimes, … and if these people take drugs all the time, … like they “do…” - let’s be real here. This type of behavior must, and could only be explained by drug abuse, and for keeping up with me, and I look so poorly, of the face, and stuff, … but that’s me. I try to do stuff to make up for things. 

I guess that’s all, for now. I’ve got stuff to do today. It’s Monday. Work schedule, and work week, sorts of stuff. 

But the blasting, going on, and the disturbances, and stuff… I dunno. I can’t fix everything - especially if people keep messing with me, and then, if I just couldn’t possibly like you, right now, … like, for reals, then just go away. “I’m gonna leave, now:” sorts of stuff. And that’s okay. 

Sunday, August 5

quatrærtholgmo»omot‹alg«or»g.9řc≥tet language: a notebook first impression of the visual font CharSet [Unicode, Not]: byte loading machine language parsing aesthetics as par-standard source material breakout-arrays.

The concept is simple enough.

I have slow I/O data connections on my device, and I Can read and functionally take in signifiant contributions of non-volatile web-standards sites,

but then, 

if only 

the site would also jaunt 


side-loading parallèle iPigeon jaunt leisure aside pop-ups,

Par en vous être sont ils símiliaęræsthèsiment


even slightly jauntededAF'ed... 

a bit more bíftęk bonne âmes flame broiled tri-tip shitsicles triste incursion of à late-heraldry dept. 

Of public affairs-socioalètrivsisselesmonts,

which happened to be a trying 25 days or so, much of which was better off in that it was a trash dumpster years-end move outs-academiesiaetiques of the recyclables-bum coverage area,

which I've been looking and feeling alright to jaunt-triste alley-trash dumpster diving-bum, 

yet it doesn't get weird, from my volatility profile fluff. 

Other bums walk on the same streets, why not a garbage recycler clothing enthusiast tech life style blogger standard fluffboy academic dégrée and à load-bearing bum profile kit? Pretty standard to dig through the trash, yet a non-domesticated variety bum.

There were tons of Asian .pharma ad hoc OTCs and some prescribables; tricyclical anti-depressants, 

and I'm not for fluffing pharma nitro butyri smokin' "meth," ... 

Smoking is tobacco and cigars. 

An un-justified jaunt-inclusive Nabisco diet triste would be ... «okay»; they're

1:2:3 

biscuitées compagnie nationelle in a card box; supposedly:
« !...whatever ... » 

I call the ingress monolithiques-historic Nabisco-socialite-bifték 

bonne déjeuner for a sçhweaky peut-être commentaire on the bleeding of gums, méat bits in the teeth, some fleas-smellin' piss, leanAF diet on tech rotary codices in a filthy outdoors environment, 

and then the window-to-street ratio is 

so not Guy who did it himself 

kind of 
fluff-triste animal cruelty thing, and it smells like it, as Well, outside. 

I'm going to follow up GTD on my 

tobacco curing crop Summer gardening project, 

and purchase ionic minerals, gallon of milk, then perhaps [or before], 

workup some mockup linguistics soundex homologies of charset standards of validly jaunt-loading 

bif-coto-proteries-schqueaf-schqueaf, 

à rawr râ rawrr.. 

then I have to encode the resonant-spinners-toy district jaunt to do a makeshift pigeon ciconne-pipe-machine organ, made of spinners, instead, 
«perhaps». 
I have some more un-published blog notebook article to upload, after this one.  

Monday, July 9

Regalgalafickenechneyapalum -tous -tous; coming to terms with...

[okay] standard-train adulting into a new standard age demographic (18-35) -post mid-level "tas-tastic" era lively ones on shuttle iffy-jaunt post pop-star party "street kids"

yet,

still: we do ours - Taylor Swift on Rolling Stone 

but wait...

I was raised on the Bible. So much becomes so proxi-auf-neuf-bits-emotionally subjectively promethazine on a lean (bad one) - 

switch to objective puh-fuff-svstication - talking bout sex was not on the menu.

The English Standard Version New Testament {learn about the disparities in proper 

objectality 



objectal


as towards a distinction Brexit American English: via boredpanda.com}

English Standard Version random opening verse and a read: a vast scurvy tide's pull-in of the Atlantic's finest:fish and shrimp, battered in hen's eggs and rolled grains - but you? Shit you're talking? This is a break out stance demographic adulting control subject standard deviation sober coffee talk analyst's divergence persona by standard's expectance rate: pretty typical, in contrast. A forensics of psych-crime GFYS standard assessment trivial novelty-trite dickens-scratch Libya autonomy fluff-roosters:contend. [for the 3rd degree, (disambiguation) lack thereof pro - auth - subjective take on:at task].

Anecdote of MFT truthing of drugs and truth of drug abuse; accuracy thereof.
  1. stub thought

  • standard basis of my adulting persona 
  • what type of people, why?
  • standards of statistics - relationships
  • fluff of auld-sated: standards of neuf - elf; nouvelle
transliterative semiotic - semantic breakout ans-lation] Le Lycee Francais
cette par vous frait donnez-mes, il'est top conderamazement, we use etiquette, standard fluff

  • nous - novel nous v'elle we to her -- we (new) to her
  • : presenting a standard mockup one-off guy for practical considerations: I just got thrown in jail for a week, and I have 100 hours community service to do, also.
Jeanne d'arc - constititularuent prototypical French sainted figure: break down and out semantics and folklore to fluff demographics deviance

- park folklore, part trieste, part fluff - when did it happen?
- off - hand, not sure, but France, as it stands, is autiguinomously farced with living down its such-tosuppose peasantry finery aux-d'estates that it were; being a center of enlightenment and colonialism, did, at times, find the French establishment lacking in resources with which to fend off notable jaunts as towards a new, more flex recontre coup d'etait il coutrements that France had been reputable for, in neighboring imperial and sociopolitical upheavals. In essence, in being the progenitor of many an early modern period cultural heritage namesake t uphold, various geographical considerations of jaunting same old pigeons-feeding territory would come to laid-waste-to, and a Frenchman, many a pigeon fletch scrum jaunteded-AF buntiglios searching the nooks and the sidewalks or corners, inevitably pursued the next, most bold-AF jaunt: somewhere else.

 
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