Please update any links you may have. Thank you.
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I’ve made a guest post over at the blog Life of a Teenage Writer. You may have noticed the name of that blog over there on the right hand side. Why would it be there? Because I enjoy reading his blog. Mr. Daniels gives some very good advice, on running your blog and just on writing in general. If you write articles on a regular basis, or just run your own blog I’d definitely give the blog a read over.
I must admit, it drained from my rather small pool of ideas to write that guest post, but when I think about it I was probably never going to write that stuff here anyway. May as well help people…I suppose. I would also like to thank Mr. Daniels for pointing out that I don’t have an RSS button, something I could have sworn I did have. Well I shall get right on that!
Anyway, here’s a link to the guest post: Writing Content that Sells.
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You take in your surroundings. You are standing in the car park of your old school, but there are no cars. You call out for anybody who could be there. There is no one. You search your pockets. There is only a blank white piece of paper. You think it is photograph paper, but you’re not sure. Your hand feels slightly numb.
Why don’t you have your phone? You always have your phone. Why don’t you have your phone?
With a sudden sense of loathing, you start up the hill, walking up the road to your school’s main building.
You reach the upper car park. This one for the teachers and various staff. Again, there are no cars. To your right is the gate. But you hear no cars, and you know better than to walk to the nearby town at this time of night. You walk left, towards the front doors of the school. You know they will be locked, they are always locked. But maybe you can get one of the security guards’ attention. You move to the door and peer into the darkness. Someone moves inside. You knock on the glass door, but they do not hear you. You lean in closer and the door slides open.
Why wasn’t it locked? It’s always locked. Why wasn’t it locked?
You continue in, walking up the stairs. You know that the guards will be in the teachers’ lounge. It is warm in there. You reach the top floor. Someone moves to your left, from the Study Hall. It is too dark to see clearly. But you know there is someone watching you. You call out. No one answers you.
So you move on. Your path is set and you move towards the Teachers’ Lounge. Behind you, there is a scratching on the floor. Like someone is carrying chains whcih drag along the ground. You turn, but there is no one there. You carry on.
You pass the classrooms that line the left hand side of the hall. Inside you can see people praying. In each one, a single person stands at the whiteboard, still, monolithic. Their heads are all bowed. The dragging chains continue.
Why are they here? It’s too late to be the study group. Why are they here?
You reach the Teachers’ Lounge and push on the door. It slides open without resistance.
The room is pitch black. But there is someone there.
“Hello?” you say. “Is someone there? I need to use your phone.”
The figure turns. Even in the darkness, you see a gleaming white smile.
“Have you come to wake up?”
Why would he ask that? You are awake. Why would he ask that?
You turn to stare back down the corridor you have come from, now lit by candles. The prayers have left their classrooms and all stare at you. Their heads are bowed, you cannot see their faces. But you can see their scars. You turn to face the pitch black Lounge. The smiling man speaks again.
“How long before you accept what you are?”
You hear the chains again a second before they wrap around your throat and pull you back. You spin and catch a glimpse of something barely human. Its face is missing pieces, its eyelids, its lips. It impales you with what should be a hand, but isn’t. You fall backwards, choking, bleeding. The smiling man stands over you, but your vision is fading. You cannot see his face. Only his smile.
Why didn’t you force yourself awake? You always die in your dreams. Why didn’t you force yourself awake?
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An unfortunate side affect of the current economic climate is the incredible difficulty in getting a job. And earning money online simply isn’t going to keep me alive. I suppose this blog could be a decent money earner, if I had any decent writing talent. Which I don’t. Though I do have a lot of stories in my head…I suppose I could get them down on paper. Or on a website to be more exact. I could write a book! All fantastic ideas, but I kind of need the money now. You know…before I starve to death. There’s a reason this blog is on a free host ya know.
Still, I’m not really trying that hard to become successful online. I have a terrible ability to motivate myself, combined with a total lack of fresh ideas. And when lightning strikes and I do have an idea…I never have any damn paper to write it down. I’d also have to become a member of the social life that is being a blogger (hehe…before I edited that I’d spelt ‘booger’…ha, funny). I have seen this “Music Monday” thing going around, seems likes a good way to get my blog out there. But my preferred music isn’t quite what you’d call mainstream stuff. And the Music Mondays just seem like a cheap way to get a post and get people to look at your blog. ARGH! I’m torn between wanting to be legitimate and wanting to be a success. I hate having to make decisions.
If anyone needs me to do some trivial task, I’m fully willing to do whatever it is for minimum wage. Except sexual favours. I doubt my significant other would be too pleased with that
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It’s not really a case of me having nothing to say, I have loads to say. I’m just so used to hiding behind a false mask of my own that it’s difficult to let out. I will, in time I hope, be able to let everything out. I guess another thing holding me back is my desire to post only meaningful and interesting posts. Like my previous two. But that wasn’t the point behind this blog. Not the original point anyway. It was supposed to be personal, not thoughtful. After all, it is unhealthy to keep everything inside after all.
And what would be the point? I’m no writer. Never have been, not for lack of trying though. Do I want this blog to be popular and make money? Perhaps, but not at the cost of not making it into what I want it to be. Maybe I’ll start telling stories from my past? The sort of thing I have to keep well away from my other blog. Damn all this worrying about what people think of me!
Well, then, starting next Monday, one post a week on whatever the hell is in my head. No holding back, no pulling the punches. And if I get the hang of it I can start boosting that. Two or three a week perhaps. We’ll see.
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Before we go any further, I’d like to direct you towards this piece of news: Little Kids can be labeled as abusers. Does this mean I’m an abuser? When I was 4 years old, I committed the heinous act of slapping a female member of my class. Was I abusing her?
This is just another example of parents being way too protective of their children. If children can be labeled as abusers before they’re old enough to know what sex is then this sets a dangerous precedence for our futures. Its a sad day when children can no longer play in the garden like their parents used to.
What makes it even worse is that it’s only the boys in a class that get told off for this sort of thing. In my old school (which I no longer attend thankfully) a new doctrine has been brought in to protect the girls from the dangers of sexual harassment. Basically, all the guys were told to watch their wandering eyes. Girls, however, were given free reign to report any boy they wanted for any reason. If a girl didn’t like a guy, all she had to do was give his name to a teacher and lo and behold…instant suspension pending an investigation. The headmaster’s even taken it overboard to such an extent that he’s cracking down on legitimate couples. Suprise, asshole, but at that age (16-19) it’s all about mixing with the opposite sex. You can’t stop nature!
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Jack Thompson, a US lawyer with a vendetta against Take Two Interactive, immediately proclaimed Cho had trained for committing the massacre in the game Counter-Strike. It seemed the answer was found. How could someone have committed such a heinous act? He had trainedon Counter Strike, lowering his inhibitions towards killing. Thompson was a genius. Just one problem.
Thompson made this allegation long before Cho had ever been identified as the killer. And upon searching his room police found no violent or war games. Cho played Sonic. He used his computer to write fiction, not practice killing. Thompson disputed these claims on the grounds that:
“Cho was able to go room to room calmly, efficiently, coolly killing people.”
Guess what? The method and calmness with which Cho killed those people is a sign of Blunted Affect, a psychiatric disorder, a sign of Schizophrenia. Schizophrenia is caused by chemical imbalances in the brain, not video games.
The fact is our society is seeking for easier ways to explain the reasons people do these things. It’s becoming taboo to accept the fact that some people are just more willing and driven to kill than others. If someone’s not happy there has to be a reason right? Wrong.
No one is more worried about this phantom affect of Video Games than parents. It seems that if children play violent video games then they’re going to grow up to be violent killers and abusers. Not so. The fact is that there are plenty of laws in place to protect children from violence, be it in video games, movies or on TV. If you, as parents, are not willing to uphold these laws then you have no one but yourself to blame. But even if you don’t, it’s highly unlikely that these forms of mere entertainment will psychologically damage your child. At the age that they can be affected to such a degree, it is your responsibilty to uphold the law and ensure that your own child does not get exposed to things like 18s movies or games. And if beyond the point where they are still learning about the world they cannot differentiate between reality and what is fake entertainment then there is something wrong with them. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.
Let’s take a look at just a handful of violence that I’ve been exposed to:
- Killzone 2 (hailed as the most realistic wargame ever created)
- GTA IV
- Counter Strike
- Battlefield 2
- The Saw movies
- The Hostel movies
Need I say more? Have I ever killed anyone? No. Have ever planned on killing anyone? No. yes, some people will play games and go on to kill, but they constitute an extremely small minority. The media just blows it all out of proportion to get more sales. fear = Profit.
Here’s some stories for you:
- Girl Saves Family from burning Car. Learned from GTA
- Boy saves sister from moose using skills learned in WoW.
I can understand parents being over protective of their children, but there is a line. Research shows that children who don’t play vdeo games, in an environment where their peers do, tend to be excluded from normal social activities. They become outcasts, and that has a much greater push on them to kill than any amount of video games.
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As I am right now, I quite simply give too much of myself away. I’m what my acquaintances call a “bleeding heart”. Basically, the happiness, comfort and wellbeing of everyone around me comes before my own. That’s not how it always used to be. I used to have this little shell of my own. I didn’t let myself get too close to anyone, and I didn’t let anyone too close to me. I thought I was safe.
I was.
But now I’m trying so hard to be liked, to be seen as a nice person that it’s leaving me open to disappointment. I know inside that all this people are fickle. I’ve worked so hard on being liked by everyone, that I’ve sort of faded into the background. Or at least it feels that way. I dunno. I’m just sure that if I were to just disappear, I’d be forgotten very, very quickly.
I remember one time, I gave away an entire meal to the three friends with me in the cafeteria, simply because they asked. I lied and said I wasn’t hungry. That meal had cost me €15. I didn’t eat at all that day…Or the day after. These people abuse my kindness, my inability to assert myself or say no.
They’re bleeding me dry.
Fuck them all.
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Why? Because everyone has secrets from everybody. But if you don’t know who I am then those secrets probably can’t come back to haunt me. And so we come here. I have an outlet. I’m not saying you’re going to care about or even like what I write, but that’s never stopped me before. This is a journey for me I’ve restarted too many times…
And so we walk.
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