No more drugs for me, pussy and religion is all I need.
Going Off The Grid or You Fuckers Know Far Too Much About Me
Going off the grid seems like a lofty goal in this day and age, but it’s something that seems like it should be achieved and eternally necessary. At some point, we should feel like we’ve enough shared about the meal we just ate or the place we just checked into on Foursquare or another unnecessary thought about the Casey Anthony trial. Putting down the iPhone/iPad/MacBook or Android/Blackberry/PC Laptop could possibly help us fall asleep faster at night. You know, all of that stuff will be there in the morning.
Yes. I’ve been feeling this a lot lately. I’m starting to feel like you fuckers (and by you fuckers, I mean the internetz) know too much about me. How much more can I possibly share? And do I want to keep sharing? Why?
Sure, its nice to be able to vent and empty my head of random thoughts once in a while, but hey, that’s what journals are for, no? I feel like you are all onto me, you know my every move and my every thought, you know what kind of shit I like and what pisses me off, and frankly that’s kinda creepy. Really, think about it for a moment. I live in Texas, some of you are as far Jersey or even halfway around the world—I have Analytics, assholes, I know where you come from—and we share these images, ideas, songs, etc. Things that we like, hate, love, agree and disagree on. Some of you have led me to awesome movies, books and music and yeah, I thank you for that. And yeah, okay, that’s pretty neat. Fuck you internet, you win that round. I love you tumblrites.
I just, I’m starting to feel like I’m always connected. It’s scary. My twitter used to be a stream of designers, painters and rad tattoo artists I followed because, well, fuck, these people are fucking legends to me. What a better way to get to know what my idols like than in a 140 character update? Its awesome, they share their favorite songs, blogs, idols, books and well, shit, I get to see what drives them to do what they do. Its pretty damn inspiring.
(Side note: Yeah dudes, I totally just said twitter is motherfucking inspiring. It is. It can be, at least to me. Deal with it. Also, totally depends on who you follow, if you dipshits are following Kim Kardashian don’t expect to have such an enlightening experience.)
Twitter used to be fun. It was awesome because I was anonymous, just another tweep. Now? Not so much. Maybe that’s what’s bothering me. That the people I want to run away from always end up finding me and ruin my anonymous adventure. People that make it hard for me to share anything! It sucks not being able to share interesting things, like blog links, photos or even just a fun video without having someone shit on my parade. So you already saw the video, let others see it. So you don’t like the art, let others see for themselves. Jesus. Why do these assholes follow me? And if I unfollow, there’s that awkward, ‘Why did you unfollow me?’ bullshit. SRSLY!? Fuck off.
The thing is, its not only there. Its everywhere! So, that’s when I get that urge to shake everyone and start from scratch. Again. Or not.
So, I guess what I’m saying is that I’m gonna try to disconnect myself as much as possible. I swear its not you, really. Its me. Or maybe its the meds I’m taking (NyQuil is one heavy bitch), but I’m feeling a little suffocated.
Going off the grid, even if its just for a week or even two(!), sounds pretty liberating.
Just saw some…
Person post a question about someone wanting to kill themselves and it made a good point. Why would you want to do that to the person who finds you.
Therefore… The ony super rad way to kill yourself is…
THROW YOURSELF INTO A FUCKING VOLCANO!
Think about it. RAD!
Every other way is for pussies!
This is why I love Gabe.