Does this count as selling out?

So, despite the fact this is an unkept blog with barely any page views, got asked to put a link to some screen capture software, in exchange for a license.

Well, alright.

Screen Capture Software
I guess I'll tell you how it goes, could be useful...

But watch this space, I'm planning on writing a few pieces, probably going to be more rant than wandering, got a few burning topics here and there, and I need the practice =\

There is such a thing as a "Monkeysphere"...

...And they found it by looking at monkey brains. The bigger a colony, the bigger the brain of the monkey. They could take a monkey's brain, look at it, and say "This monkey belonged to a colony of 70 monkeys or so."
So one day, this smart alec takes a brain in, and the examiners estimated it to belong to a monkey of a troop of 200 or so monkeys.
Except it wasn't a monkey brain. It was a people brain.

Relevent? Certainly. Look at monkey colony dynamics.
Within of itself, it is a group of x creatures who live and hunt together, and are codependent. They will play with and love each other. They will suffer personally for the benefit of a fellow monkey.
These monkeys would die for one of these 70 monkeys.
And kill anyone of the remaining millions.
If someone outside of their colony, their Monkeysphere, steps within 50 feet of them
Why, they might kill them.

And don't pretend this has nothing to do with us.
We're pretty closely related to these guys, particularly on a behavioural level.
And evidence of the human Monkeysphere is everywhere.

As far as we go, "Monkeysphere" has been attributed in human behavioural psychology to describe everyone we care about. Apparently, 200-300 individuals, with possibilities for a lot more. Anyone you care about, who you would care about dying, rests within this monkeysphere.
And everyone else.... well, they're not people.

Remember that alien feeling you sometimes get when you see a teacher outside of school? Or when you catch that colleague of yours in town? It feels weird, because you're being reminded that these, these- animate objects, these things that are merely routine scenery, are actually people. Not just humans, people, with feelings, friends, family, thoughts, all of it.

And that's why it's so weird.

I think it's interesting to think about, that of all the thousands, possibly millions of faces you will see in your life time, you will only be affected by maybe several hundred of them. If that.

I guess you should pick carefully.

I played a game on the bus today.

I decided that of all the people I could see around me, I would find several things that were positive about them, that I could say to their face, and mean it.
It was hard at first, and did rely on a lot of superficial factors, and assumptions I had made. Which was more or less counter-intuitive to the point I was trying to make to myself about prejudice and appearances.
But it was refreshing.
It was nice to think things like "Well, she's obviously very family forward", than the thoughts that appeared unevoked, like "Gosh, somebody doesn't know when to say "when".".
I recommend it.

A product of a wasted Business Studies Lesson

Remember,
aaaaaaaaaaaWhen you were young,
And a friend, bursting with pride,
aaLets you in
aaaaaaaaaaon his newest secret.

Tentatively, you raise your hands,
aaHugspan apart,
aaaaaaaaBeside yet inside his.

"No! Push out!
aaaaaaaaaaInto my hands!
aYes, like that, but harder!"

aaYou push harder.

aaaAnd like this you stay,
You trying to spread your arms
aaHim supressing.

aaYou push harder.

aaaThis brittle ring
shaking under strain
aaaaThe urge to break,
aaaa''aaaaaaaato destroy,
aarising.

aaYou push harder.

Tension rises.
It can't last.
It will break.
aaaaaaaaaaaaSnap.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaEnd.
Hurt.

But he contains it, securely.
aaYou meet his eye.
aaaaaaaHe smiles, securely.

This moment, where equilibrium
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaais struck
This moment, where you know
aaaaaaathat everything
aaaais

The Best.

That
aaaaais how I feel
With you


Shatter;
As he lets go.

His innocent game is finished.

But
Before he turns away from you.
Before he divulges the same secret into another's ears
Before his betrayal
aaaHe tells you

To place your arms where they once were
And feel him in the air.

Slowly,
aaaaaa you find where he used to be,
A ghost of a memory
aaaaa Of heaven.

Silver Screen
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa(Speckled with time)
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa(greyed with haze)
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaqaaaaa(Not like the first time)
aaaaadddddddaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa(Never as good as the first time)
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa(Want it back)
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa(GIVE IT BACK)
aaaaaaaaaaaaaof your best moment

That
aaaa is how I feel
Without you.

I'm hoping on shifting a backlog of posts tonight....

I've been writing a lot but not publishing.... I'm still not sure what i should put up, but hey, we'll find out. Just a warning as all.

[Wander/Wonder]

I'm not applying myself into anything else right now, so let's make a blug post!
[Insert generic rambling about how I don't know what to write, I guess I'll just type whatever, cos I'm so random LOL]

I would say I'm pretty dedicated to efficiency actually. The only reason Im doing this now is because I don't want to waste time right now. I always want to make sure I'm doing something. If I'm doing nothing, I need to make sure I'm doing it purposefully.
I won't wrestle with the typical stereotypes of how guys can't multi-task, excepting that I do it all the time. I also try to make a point of absorbing all I can at anyone time- watching tv + listening to podcast + reading newspaper. It feels like a drug, honestly, such raw information.
Do you ever walk down the middle of curved roads, in the way of traffic, just to make the shortest path? Or failing that, convince everyone to cross the road everytime the inside curve switches sides?
I was talking with friends a while ago, and we realised how OCD we all were. Or at least what society deems to be OCD without really paying much attention. But we all had little things. There were people who had to walk on the right hand side of people, the people who needed their stationary perpendicular, all these wonderful beautiful quirks. Personally, I needed to turn light switches on/off/on once entering a room, and off/on/off when leaving, I had to pop the diet tabs on all drinks and flick the ring-pulls off of cans and I have to walk in knight steps. Knight like the chess-piece.. These were the tamer ones.
I've noticed myself getting a lot more extrovertive in recent times. More expressive. Louder. Making silly gestures, saying silly things, losing a little restraint. I'm not sure whether I want to leave this be (Maybe it's a development of character? Coming out of my shell) or put a bung in it, lest I cause significant annoyance to all around me. It's interesting to witness though. I wonder why it's happening.

Didn't see myself here a few months ago.

This blog is going to sound incredibly insensitive.
And it's posting is probably going to bring about some incredibly bad luck.

But I'm the only one I know in a relationship.
*Touch Wood*

When it started, 4 months and a day from today, there were several relationships ongoing simultaneously. Honestly, it kinda felt like we were all smushed together, one big block of happy and awesome.

But then it chipped and cracked, and as the marble fell, it just seems like we've been left standing above the rest.
*touch wood*

And as much of a braggart I feel saying it, it feels kind of good.
"Romantic screw-up doesn't really screw up for 4 months and a day"
...
Well, I suppose there is a reason I don't write for a newspaper.

I won't beat around the bush, I'm incredibly ecstatic and proud that I've found a girl who has given me previously unfelt happiness, whilst being patient enough to stick around and ignore my errs, but i feel a little guilty that no one (Save maybe Tabby) is sharing this immense joy.
But then again, that little stab of guilt is thoroughly masturbatory, and I feel pretty good about feeling bad.

On a completely unrelated note, I'm getting really worried by my inability to properly prioritise. During the holidays, where I'm supposed to be completing Math practice papers, English AS and IT GCSE, I've done none, in favour of trivial activities. My order of preference?
1) Sleeping
2) Intensive washing
3) Gaming
4) Drinking (fluids, not alcohol)
5) Leaving my house
6) Eating
7) Work

...This is mildly unhealthy, to say the least. I can't do any work on friday, because I'm meeting my thoroughly interesting German Jewish Great Aunt who escaped Nazi Germany, and my parents will be suspicious during the weekend. Thus, tomorrow i'm working my ass off.
If I can even get out of bed.
Or stop washing.
Or put down my DS
Etc.

Of Shininess and Sweater-Vests

Maybe it's the change of season, and all that Sun getting to my head. Maybe it's the sudden lack of school.

But everything's so shiny right now. Everything is great.

I look around, and the sights are beautiful. I keep stumbling on music that gives me shivers.
I'm even enjoying people's company more than usual. I have been laughing in a way that I haven't laughed in quite a while.

I'm at that point of ecstasy that I'm unable to stop myself singing down confused cul-de-sacs.
And I'll be damned if I don't savour it.
The other day, I actually took a walk. So I could preserve that moment of happiness. So I could take in the surrounding beauty.
Just read those sentences again. I'm happy.

I think it has something to do with this feeling of self-actualisation I've been having. Recently, I've just been feeling closer to that person I strive to be.
I'm not there yet. But the other day, I wore a sweater-vest.
Casually.
That's something I've longed to do for maybe a year or two. And it felt great.
Sure, it sounds stupid, and it's essentially equivalent to an ego-less girl finally trying on thsoe daring red heels she bought but was assured by confidants that she just couldn't pull off.
But I don't care. Cause I can wear a sweater-vest.
I've grown.

"Enjoy your 40mg of Penicillin, and heaping faceful of Irony."

The last post I made, what was it about again?
Aiming to be more reliable and strong, to benefit those important to me.
It's times like these that you start doubting your lack of faith.

Let me explain.
So, today is Valentine's Day, and that means for many men across the country that it's another day off their list where they have to act like less chauvinistic, along with the Birthday, the Anniversary and who knows what else.
This would (Notice that "would"?) be my first real one, honestly, and a 2 month anniversary on top of that. A day was planned ("was", can you see where this post is going?), hell it was written on my Nude Firemen calender.
On a currently unrelated note, I haven't been ill in 7 years, and that was bought about by raw fish. In Spain.

I had to call off everything due to tonsillitis.
This, I hear, is the Inevitable Fuck Up of the Boyfriend.
Of all the times to be ill in seven years, it just had to be this week.

On the other hand, it's given me a little (read: helluva) time to ponder. I'm getting a lot of ideas for ramblings, and rants, and tirades, as well as some other surprising little pieces. Maybe.

That's all I've got for now, the therapeutic, medically advised Ice Cream has actually halted most if not all intellectual thinking. Sayonara!

I'm going to make a post.

The problem is, I don't know where to start or what to write. This is going to be from the top. Impromptu. Ad lib.

Well, ****.

First point is that this is no longer a blog. Due to its (lack of an) update schedule, it has been demoted to a Blug. This, I must live with until standards are raised.

Mr Bennet talks a lot about flow. Flow, he says, is the point where a writer can simply let ideas flow coherently to paper without active thought, or stoppages. This is the point I am able to reach with most blug posts, and I'm determined to do it now.

I find it fascinating. Fascinating that once reaching this trance, I can feel myself manipulating foreign media into such beauty. I think this is what artists feel when they start flinging paint at canvases, and start breathing very heavily. What musicians feel when they make an impromtu solo. What I feel, when solving algebra.

Okay, so that wasn't as much of a universally beautiful sentinent than its predeccessors, but it's true nonetheless. (It's working now)

It's strange, when I do aquire such a state, it feels like I have reached Self-actualisation.
The point in which you can or have achieved the ultimate.
The point at which masterpieces are made.
Maximised potential.

I strive to be the best I can.
Not in an obvious way, such as eating right, or working out.
But I want to witness everything, do the right thing, and eventually use this to become the kind of person that is, well, the best.

Who knows what to do.
Who can help anyone.
Who can make passive, unwitting yet fantastic contribution to the world.

I can't understand why people wouldn't.
So what if you can't fall lower than rock bottom?
So what if you can't fail, due to no criteria for success?
So what if it's easier?

If you can actually make something better, why the hell not?
Especially if it's someone else's life.

I'm not setting out to solve world hunger. I'm not going to go donate all possessions to good causes. I'm not going to pray everything away.

But I will be the kind who can help those who are important.
I will be the kind who can make people happy.
I will be dependable.

For everyone else.

When I can.

It says a lot about a Blog...

When every 2nd post is apologies and explanations for a lack of updates.
They'll happen, I'm determined.

Just not now, now I must sleep.

I think a lot about Perception....

I actually had a good introductory line sorted, but then I had to google search the word "perception" to check that I got it right, depite the fact that Firefox comes with spell check (Get Firefox!).
Don't you ever wonder that you're seeing it all wrong?
It starts with a comment.
"Phwoar, I would."
You look where your comrade is clumsily swinging their lust-dripping eyes, to see a person that, well, you woudn't feel was worth such enthusiasm.

Normally, such disagreement is commonplace. Perception is a fickle mistress. (New drinking game, every time I personify something as stupid as a form of cognitive awareness, you take a drink.) It's Relativity. A minute with your finger on the stove will feel like an hour, and an hour with a pretty girl is a minute. I mean, we are creatures that see thinner people if they're wearing horizontal stripes, and can look at the same cloud and make equally ridiculous yet violently conflicting comparisons.
Hell, if a girl's got a big enough rack, she's the funniest girl on the planet.

But maybe this isn't a normal time.
Maybe you disagree. You think. You disect.

Do they not know what "Hot" is?
Maybe it's you.
Are you wrong?

Before you know it, your mind pricks with barbs of doubt.
Do you look like what you think you look like?
Does anyone?
Is their Blue the same as yours?

From there, the abstract welcomes himself in, because what's a little social anxiety without adding in devices of theological, metaphysical, and/or psychological natures? (Drink)

Maybe you have pleasure down wrong.
And pain.
And love.
And...

Of course, this train of thought is nothing if not destructive. And that's not me. Which is where rationality (pretty weird misplaced rationality) enters the ring. (Drink.)

One can describe a Universe as all there is. The end all, be all.

But it's ours to define.

Take a Schrodingerian approach (whilst ignoring the intended meaning of the eponymous cat as an attack on Quantum Physics). You can only measure, therefore percieve and acknowledge, what you can observe.
My Universe is what I see, and what I hear, and what I feel.
And most importantly, what I make of it. What I percieve.

Now the Universe is truly ours to define.

Long story short, what you think is right, for you.
But no one else will think so.