Today I was going to talk about where I am from; where I was born and where I grew up and stuff.
I think some people are curious about that.
It’s not top secret stuff.
I just don’t like sharing specific details that could help you track me down.
Like I’ve said, I enjoy my privacy.
Then again, a lot of folks like to talk about themselves. They enjoy attention. I think everyone does, to a certain degree.
It’s the age of social media. Many people are literally living on the internet. Like they have absolutely no life outside it. Including some basement dwelling hobos and whores that feel the need to share their titties with the general public. Have they no decency?
But that’s their life. They can do whatever they want. Doesn’t affect me. I don’t really care. I’m just pointing out an observation. Like what the hell are you doing girl?
Some of them are just young and dumb. But when you grow old and mature, you don’t want your nudes surfacing the internet. Y’know, that age when you finally decide to settle down with some man and have kids. Ultimately, everyone wants to settle down in life. You can’t bounce from one dick to another throughout your life. Well, some women do. Pornstars and strippers. But if you have kids, oh boy! They’re going to be on the receiving end of some serious bullying at school.
Do people actually think through their actions and the repercussions they could have in the future?

In a sense, I’m doing the same. Blogging my life and sharing about my life. It could come back to bite me in the ass. Big time.
I feel like I’m going to die one day. Not sure when. But it’s coming.
Maybe this will be part of my legacy when I’m gone. Or I’ll scrap it at the last moment.
Some people don’t want to be remembered when they die. And I get that.

I’ve been trying to live logically now. For everything I do or say, there has to be some reason behind it. Not some stupid excuse like some teenage kid. But a sound logical reasoning that makes sense when you think about it.

Today the neighbor kids blasted loud music all afternoon.
After lunch, I read a novel and then slept through the noise.
It takes a certain type of person to be able to sleep through that. Like when there’s chaos outside and you’re snoring like a mofo.
I don’t snore.
I also have sharp ears. I can still hear any sounds when I’m asleep.
I feel like my brain’s grown old. I’ve always felt old all my life but now it’s starting to show.

So I woke up and felt angry at these stupid fucking kids. They’re teenagers. Like 17-18 years old.
And I said, God, I wish these kids would die with their shitty loud music.
I don’t like being inconvenienced. Do anything that affects me negatively and you’re treading on shaky grounds.
I still have a caveman mentality. Like really basic survival instincts. Offense-defense mechanism wired into my brain.
When someone angers me, first thing that pops into my head is how I could drop ’em if they even tried…
The human body is very fragile.
People like to think they’re tough guys, invincible. But I can see the vulnerabilities.

I used to be cold hearted. But I’m learning to be more compassionate.
Wishing death upon someone is a bit extreme. I get that.
You’ve got to do something abhorrent to deserve to die.
That’s why the death penalty has pretty much been scraped in most countries.

I think part of the problem is the parents. A lot of parents don’t know how to raise their kids. Kids don’t get whooped enough. They get too much leverage in their teenage years.
What the parents don’t realize is that they’re spoiling their kids. They’re not raising good human beings. They’re raising annoying brats who think it’s okay to inconvenience others and act like they’re the kings of the world.
Nowadays the parents are slaves to their kids wishes. If you don’t do what they want, they’ll call child protection services!
There were no child protection services in my time.
Children had no rights! If you did something stupid, you got a beating. That was that.
If you wanted rights, you could get the hell out of your mom’s house and go find your rights elsewhere.
Black folks know what I’m talking about.
I got my ass whooped till I was 16.
At school, everyone got the same treatment. Boys and girls alike. Lay down, whack! whack! whack!
Your ass cheeks would be sore all morning.
It’s interesting though, that when I was in a school dominant with muslims, only boys got an ass whooping. Girls were hit on the palms.

One hour later…

Okay. So I got up to grab some food and ate while watching some short documentaries and now I’ve lost my train of thoughts.
But, there’s more important things I’d definitely like to talk about.
My life? Very irrelevant.