A Man's Last Thoughts

22.12.09-

A man's last thoughts

I bob like a cork on the dark ocean. The waves, once looking so small from the ship, are actually around 6 feet tall. I'm at their mercy. The noise made by the crashing waves and the howling wind is horrendous. If not for the life-preserver, I would have drowned, not because I can't swim, but because I stopped feeling my legs long ago. According to my watch, I've been here for 5 hours.

I’m surprised I’m still alive. The other screams died out 2-3 hours ago.

The water is cold, cold, cold. I'm pretty much just a frozen block, with a heart that barely beats anymore, floating idiotically in an orange life-preserver amid the furious waves. There are no stars above me. The clouds have blocked them out. The salty water keeps getting into my eyes so I close them and take solace in my thoughts for the umpteenth time since I've been here.

Your beautiful face shines like a beacon in my mind's eye. You look at me, and your face breaks into your most dazzling smile, filling my frozen body with warmth. You walk towards me, your hips swaying entrancingly. I embrace you tightly in my arms. Your hair smells lightly of your favourite shampoo—apple-scented. Together, locked in each other's arms, we bob together on the ocean. But too quickly, you free yourself, and I remember you don't love me. You disappear in a cold haze.

A wave rolls over my head.

Still, I bask comfortably for awhile in the thought of our touch.

It's my turn to go join the others.

I force my numb hands to my stomach, where the life-preserver's fastener cinches me tight. After a struggle, I manage to release it and free myself of the ugly contraption.

I begin to sink. The sound of the churning ocean is strangely muffled under the water. My body sways far more gently with the waves down here. It's peaceful, like being in the arms of your mother when you were small and being rocked to sleep. I don't bother opening my eyes. There's nothing to see and they'll just burn in the salt water.

I conjure up your image in my head for the last time.

Your smile, your voice, your smell, your touch...

Ah...

What is up with us?

This is just a random musing I've been having.
Been too busy and not pissed enough to write on blog lately.

Anyways, English creative short story..........had the wonderful occasion and honor to read many many great stories.

Just one thought: What the hell is going on with us? Not necessarily in the bad way, but it's just peculiar how quite a few stories I've read are completely based on reality, with themes like war, suffering, death, sociopaths, murder...etc.

Not all the stories are like that, I'm sure, but still.....did they beat the imagination out of us? Is the reality of the world catching up with us that quickly? Why write about suffering so close to Xmas? Has the pressure of school gotten to us? Have our brains been damaged, by overwork, or Hollywood....? Why are we so grim?

All good questions that I shall discuss with Master Yoda during our next session.
(Maybe I'm the one going wacko)

Somebody bashed twilight at school today

Les vampires brûlent au soleil, ils ne brillent pas!
- Person who's profession is professing the study of matter and its motion through spacetime and all that derives from these, such as energy and force.

I personally find it quite necrophilic to be doing a guy who does not exhibit any basic signs of being ALIVE.

But I have a far more interesting project to do than to rant about Twilight, (plus I don't want to get attacked by fangirls), so I'll leave it at that.

Toodles

So who's getting shot?

Today, at least half the school got shot with a .50ml dose of the H1N1 vaccine. The usual cases of girls, and boys, but mostly girls, freaking out. The occasional special case where a reaction was a little stronger than normal and treatment following promptly. Nobody dying or fainting, unlike this certain other time... (sec 3 if memory serves)
CBC was on scene as well, for publicity ya know, and propaganda—and I figure I should stop before I start making links with animal farm. (You can see the footage in tonight's news hour, and probably also on internet later)

As you waited, or perhaps even right up to the moment when that syringe gets stabbed in, you hope there's no fuckup with the egg cultures otherwise a damn lot of us are going to be quite screwed indeed.
Guinness Book of World Records for mass assisted suicide by lethal injection in the worst case. (You did consent to it, did you not?)

And please, no more of this inane bullshit about the mercury based preservative making you stupid. If you believe that the infinitesimal amount of mercury contained in the vaccine can screw with your brain, then clearly, the mercury you've ingested in the past has already done all it can. More mercury will not help, or in this case, will not stupefy you further in any noticeable way. It is an issue among babies and young children. Not adolescents on the brink of adulthood physically, and in theory, also mentally. So shut it and go eat a can of sardines. There's a lot more mercury in there than in the vaccine.

But all in all, all's well. For years, WHO, and governments and the usual yadada groups have been floating the idea that we're all fucked if there's a pandemic. (I can't believe there are still idiots who don't know the difference between epidemic and pandemic, so if you're one of them, click on it, and save me the trouble of calling you an idiot.) Luckily, H1N1 is the runt of the possible maladies, and I'd say quite a nice test to various health related agencies and organizations. For once, there was a little glimmer of efficiency in the bureaucracy in getting the vaccine tested and produced. Of course, the rushed testing just increases the chance of a fuckup. Meh, calculated risk, possible fuckup vs. infected in the meantime. Win the lottery while you're at it.

Also, we've gotten an opportunity to see some of the wussies in society. Grown ass, healthy adults, mostly high-placed in the system, cutting in line in front of the elderly, pregnant and other at-risk groups to get vaccinated against a flu that kills only as much as the seasonal flu. How selfish can you get. And almost as proof that hockey is fucking important in Canada, 200 + lbs, theoretically healthy hockey players get vaccinated before their official 'turn' because swine flu was taking a stroll through the team. (Calgary Flames)

Oh, and check out this fuckup I found while researching for this article :

Meanwhile, Bolduc said the province is taking steps to correct an error he said resulted in some healthy prisoners receiving the H1N1 vaccine ahead of the general population. (cbc.ca)

HOLY MOTHER TERESA! How the hell did they screw that one up? Yes prisoners are still humans, yes, their conditions aren't exactly hygienic all the time and may favor the propagation of H1N1, but did you consider how the fuck would H1N1 get into the prison in the first place? How about quarantining new arrivals instead of wasting—in a manner of speaking—valuable doses of vaccine?


As an afterthought, what shit are we going to be in if the vaccinated go apeshit "I Am Legend" style, eh?

!TWEET YOU!

I know I write too much per post, and should have realized more of you don't read at the speed of light. I blame the IB. Anyways, I'm trying something shorter today, BEHOLD:

THE SHORTEST RANT YOU'VE EVER FUCKING READ ABOUT FUCKING TWITTER.


Nobody—except maybe your mom—gives a shit where you are, what you're doing, and we definitely don't want your opinion about it either.

Aside from noticing twitter, the other definitions are:

twit·ter (twtr)

v. twit·tered, twit·ter·ing, twit·ters

v.intr.

1. To utter a succession of light chirping or tremulous sounds; chirrup.

2.

a. To speak rapidly and in a tremulous manner: twittering over office gossip.

b. To giggle nervously; titter.

3. To tremble with nervous agitation or excitement.

v.tr.

To utter or say with a twitter: twittered a greeting.

n.

1.

a. The light chirping sound made by certain birds.

b. A similar sound, especially light, tremulous speech or laughter.

2. Agitation or excitement; flutter.

All of the above gives the picture of a really annoying asshole don't they? TAKE THE HINT! Don't Tweet.

Or, make it interesting, like this guy : Shitmydadsays


[According to a certain ranting teacher, citations don't count, so therefore, this rant only contains 58 words, which is a downright IB miracle for me]

Procrastination is like Masturbation: It's fun until you realize you've fucked yourself.

There's must be something hidden in a teen's psyche leading them to procrastination, (and masturbation, but let's not get into that).

Anyways, going into the 5th and final year of our sentence, in a manner of speaking, people still engage themselves knowingly & wilfully in procrastination. By now, most people have likely experienced at least 4 times the ritual of coming to this realization: "OH SHIT! It's for tomorrow, and I haven't done squat!", usually preceded a few days or hours earlier by the famous last words: "Oh that's easy, I can finish in a few hours." They will then proceed to work their asses off until 2 or 3 AM while praying that Murphy doesn't come around with his shit and bust the internet, computer, or printer.

Refraining from procrastination seems to be something as unteachable as breathing. Or maybe just a problem that plagues schools seeing as teachers also engage in the act. [of procrastination, I wouldn't know about masturbation]

"In IB, we don't believe in miracles, we rely on them!"

There has not been a more accurate quote for it is indeed a miracle that dozens of students manage to start and finish a huge project a few hours before the deadline AND scrap a B or sometimes even an A. Perhaps this is why we don't learn even after all these years. We think miracles will take care of it.

At the time of this writing, I'm sure several of said miracles are in the event of being realized, even though I'm sure SEVERAL more have already happened yesterday for the ENG project. Tomorrow morning, I expect to see the usual number of walking dead with bloodshot eyes, and perhaps the occasional disconcerting eye twitch, from an overdose on coffee and redbull.

The 6 Best Towns To Live in (If You Have a Death Wish)



Now I just wish somebody would take the same concept, but do it with schools...