K & The Internet

Once upon a time, in the depths of my past memories, I was an average 14 year old who went to school, got decent grades, and played video games with friends when not busy being a boy scout.
I also spent a monstrous amount of time surfing the internet - back then, we had just gotten a new DSL connection, and I could spend unlimited amounts of time connected to the modem without tying up the phone line.

I quickly discovered many ways to connect with people, and one of them was a particular chatroom I had found by googling (or, back then, "Altavista-ing) "chatroom". Of course, there were your regular people, mostly teenagers around my age (I hope!) discussing music, movies and your run-of-the-mill teenage banter. There were the creepers, who were sending countless number of private messages to the girls just to see them naked.
And there was me.

I don't really know why I was there in the first place. I guess it's because I felt a little lonely and I loved how easy it was to just start up a conversation with someone. I didn't even have to start the conversation with "hello". I usually came up with slightly punny introductions that would get me weird looks were they uttered face-to-face. Some of the people I messaged thought I was weird nonetheless, but once in a while, I would find someone who would reply with an equal amount of wittiness and I knew I'd found someone special.

Usually, the conversation would go on for a while before the inevitable question would pop up: "Do you have MSN?". Because, well, once you disconnected from the chatroom, you were likely fated to never see or hear from these people again, unless you were a regular.
Either way, MSN was always a constant. You could always depend on MSN Messsenger. The smiley selection was just... so appealing, and the introduction of voice clips in my later teenage years only furthered my adoration for this communication medium.

So, during one of my many 321Teenchat escapades, I met a girl named K. from New Zealand. She is one of my -original- internet friends, and I've known her for seven years to this day. SEVEN YEARS! And I've stayed in touch on and off with her for those seven years. I think I just loved the fact that she was from New Zealand, and I would always beg her to use her microphone to talk to me because I desperately wanted to hear her sweet accent.
K., being a wise and rather shy girl, never did such a thing... until two days ago.

I heard her voice for the first time after seven years of "knowing" her. Since we'd been Facebook friends for a while, she took the initiative to use the new Facebook video chat and actually gave me a call, and we had so much to talk about!
Unfortunately, it was around 4 am and I REALLY needed some sleep.

My conversations with her usually ended at such a time because I was always up late talking to her and I eventually needed to go to bed. She would rarely be on at normal conversational times for me, say, 9 pm, and so I would stay up late just to talk to her because her time zone was very strange indeed.

I have many, many other internet friends, but K. is probably my most ancient, and I do hope to see her someday. We're both mature enough now to actually travel the world without feeling awkward about it.

Anyway, this was what was on my mind today - let's hope my Saturday will be filled with fun-filled adventures and real-life socialness.
Hah...
Yeah right...
Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore 
2019-09 update: Removed first name for privacy reasons.

Free writing: #1

New rules: I am not allowed to use the backspace.

Doctor doctor, what is wrong with me? Why can'tI seem to find the right words for my expressions?

Why do you ask so many questions? Why do I sak myself countless number of questions only to find that nothing has changed.

Do you have a purpose for this words? Will people stop reading once they see that I don't write with eprfect accuracy?

It's actually really difficult to write without automatically pressing the backspace button; I'm so used to using it because I contantsly reainvent what I want to write to make my meaning omre clear.

I can't seem to be the epsonn I want to be... let me try that again (I am not a printer). I can't seem to find to be the person Iwant to be. I try for a little while, i try and follow the decrees but I can't keep up with all of them. I still can't sleep at a reasonable hour; I prefer to dull my brain with massive amounts of internet information before bed at around 2 am instead of actually taking care of my health and following nature's indedtend sycle of sleep.

This is a tortorus blog to write. THe isspelled words are nagging at me like a moqsquito draining y life blood. I breathe and write as as supplementary  way of feeling good about myself. OH THIS IS too difficult! Please let me use the backspace! No, trules are rules.

Living life oh my... jeez, ths is really difficult. Well, it's just like life itself, there's no backspace in time, so I better know what Im doing. I shoul d wtirte faster and faster; on second thought, nevermind, then my writing won't even be legible.

Did I have something important so say? Not really; I'm only writing these lines to get rid of the creative energy that flows through yym veins right now. There's no mutch left. It'd bea easier to feel content writing these lines if my fellow bloggers blogged as much as I do, butg I have yet to find a friend who has withstood the test of time with their blog. They quit, they come back, ( I just cheated there, I used the backspace twiece), but it'S still a lonely place on this blog. Who am I writing to? I'm not writing to anyone; I'm writing to myself so that in my future, Iwill see what I was thinking at the past.

Oh there goes my grammar too... oh dear oh dear, this will not do. I just wish I had more and mroe haobbies and that they didn't reolvele around being near a computer for any length of time. I can't imagine my life without a computer, itS' kinda scary. I mean, I've lived for a computer for a while, so it'S definitely doable... it's just I don'T do it because it's so much... fun? No it's not fun, computers aren't a fs fun as they used to be. I remember when I was little, because I had a windows 3.1, I remember playing with a toucan and him teaching me words.

That was sall so long ago. What happened tow riting? Why do we tweet so much? Why is Facebook so BIG? When's the last day I didn'T check facebook?% Why why why why.

Oh I have so many uquestions, I just wish people would give me answewrs sometimes.

OKAY I FEEL LIKE EATING JUNK FOOD. I do not want to cheat I do not want to cheat I do not want to cheat.

I think I need more pictures on this pblog, to make things colorful. OH GOD, NO, I SPELLED IT THE AMERICAN WAY. THis is my demise.

I want friends. I should wget that cellphne...

Emails no longer mean anything apparenly. Ou can't oraganize things without a cellphone, I'm out of the loop, I could be outside with a friend right now. I am locked away insid e a basement writing words that seem to follow a vague if not distant structure . I hope my witing isn'T too drab.

I'm at 0$5%.

Summer will help.

Sitting in a room

With big brown wooden walls, with fake rainy sounds coming from wood-and-plastic perfectly rectangular speakers.
Sitting on a chair with plastic armrests, staring feebly at a 23-inch rectangle that flashes different colours if I press different buttons.
There is an obsidian black lamp that shines artificial sodium light in the darkness of the much-too-late hour of two AM.
Beside this light is a bookshelf filled with what was once pulp from a tree somewhere in the world, probably the amazon.
But back to the table, where the rectangular screen glares at me menacingly, lies another plastic device that, when moved, makes pixels activate in such and such a manner.
Beside this plastic device is, you guessed it, a plastic board with keys on it that, when pressed, darken a pixel and make the patterns of light on the screen change somewhat.

There are objects strewn around the off-white desk that make the place look messy, but not pig-styly. Perhaps the only natural looking thing is a djembe drum about the height of a coffee table that does not seem to fit amidst all the fake plasticky things and that, when struck, booms out and resonates through all the corners of the underground room in which I find myself in.

Where did nature go? I miss her.
Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore  

Gabriel - Lamb

I can fly
But I want his wings
I can shine even in the darkness
But I crave the light that he brings
Revel in the songs that he sings
My angel Gabriel

I can love
But I need his heart
I am strong even on my own
But from him I never want to part
He's been there since the very start
My angel Gabriel
My angel Gabriel

Bless the day he came to be
Angel's wings carried him to me
Heavenly
I can fly
But I want his wings
I can shine even in the darkness
But I crave the light that he brings
Revel in the songs that he sings
My angel Gabriel
My angel Gabriel
My angel Gabriel