#sorta philosophical

[mc-fucking-scuse-me]

i like trees that make me feel small and insignificant because i already am small and insignificant but with trees the insignificance has meaning

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Sorta Philosophical: Remembering Time

Wow it feels like I’m going on a spring clean bringing this series back.

If anybody ever has trouble with whether or not they are remembering events properly, the way I (a typically forgetful doofus) remind myself if something really happened is if I remember living the memory.

That probably needs more explaining…

So you know how you can remember the scent of something yummy in the other room or the laugh of a friend you haven’t talked to in ages? Well I certainly do. But more than that, I remember the time it took to make those memories. The memory is usually snapshot for most people it seems. Sometimes a film reel, but the point is that if you can remember the sequence of events that happened to get you to that point, than you can more easily confirm you lived that situation.

Hang on. I need to ask my step bro if I can tell a specific story.

gets permission Okay let’s do this.

Once upon a time when I was about 12, my former step father Rick, my Step Brother Josh and one of my oldest friends Jeremy went out paint balling. My cowardly ass didn’t want to get hurt, so I stayed home. After the boys get home and we’re all settling down for dinner, Rick tells everyone about how the game went. He and Jeremy were being more aggressive, but Josh was playing passively, barely shooting off any paint balls.

My autistic ass decides to raise a point. One innocent point that gets blown out of the water.

‘Well maybe he didn’t have any balls’.

Cue the line of ‘OOOOOOHHHH’ from the four girls of the house.

Now, if the girls hadn’t all reacted, this next bit never woulda happened. Josh woulda just nodded along. However, they did…

Next thing I know, my cheek hurts and I’m on the floor. Josh hit me with a right hook and straddles me like he’s gonna throttle me. Apparently I had a look of pure confused panic on my face (sourced information from my mother) when he had my shirt collar in his hands.

It took Rick rushing over from the oppisite end of the table to pry him off for me to choke out the words ‘Paint balls’.

My step brother thought I was targeting his masculinity, but forgot that I have no resistance to saying stupid things.

We all laughed it off later and Josh apologized heavily for reacting so violently and we all had a great dinner to wrap the night up.

Now you’d think I’d be traumatized by that event, but on the contrary it’s one of my favorite moments at that table. But why am I telling you this story??

It’s because I remember not just the story, but living through the events that led up to it. When people look back on events, they typically recall it how they wanted it to be. But again I’m autistic, my brain works differently. So I remember the time that I lived it better than the event itself.

The moral of this story is that you never remember the story properly unless you remember the times it happened.

P.S. We had Enchiladas that day. They were very tasty even with an aching cheek. Oh! And he also helped knock that last baby tooth out.

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Small fact about me is that I love to read to my girlfriend. We use Discord because we live nearly half the world away from each other, but she always enjoys listening to me read to her so long as she doesn’t fall asleep hungry while the story focuses on food.

I have a very bad and nasally voice, but I do my best with changing up the voices of characters from stories like That time I was Reincarnated as a Slime, Reincarnated as a Sword, Campfire Cooking in Another World (anybody noticing a pattern here?) but she still seems to enjoy my reading to her greatly. So much so that she’ll now have trouble falling asleep without me reading to her.

It makes me really happy that my girl just loves to hear me and I get to help her sleep soundly with what I tend to see as my weakest asset.

Moral of this story is that no matter how you feel about a ‘negative trait’ you may have, there’s bound to be someone who enjoys or appreciates that trait whether it’s a brash way of speaking, being a wallflower or having a voice like nails on a chalkboard.

‘The world grows as hearts connect to one another’. -Kingdom Hearts (probably… otherwise I might’ve made it up)

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Dumb question; why do cats have ‘canine teeth’ if they aren’t canines. They’re the exact opposite of canines.

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Let’s be real. Tumblr is broken already. The only reason it thrives while others like Twitter, Facebook and Reddit are burning to cinders is because Tumblr is Tumblr. I wish I could give better clarification. Maybe somebody could leave a note or reblog saying just how Tumblr is still running sure… but the fact is that Tumblr has some kinda secret ingredient and I’m not even sure Jordan Howlett can tell us the full recipe.

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Not to sound like a drag and I know this isn’t exactly the right timing for this since Chrimbus is long gone, but doesn’t it make sense that the ‘Three Wise Men’ were brought to a manger? I mean they were described as Shepherds right? Where else would they bring their flock besides a manger?

This thought occurred to me and now I can’t help but imagine that the reason they thus had their gifts for Jesus is because they booked the place in advance but the inn keeper or whatever had to put this pregnant lady somewhere, so he refused the full payment from the three guys and now they have Mur, Frankencents and Gold that they didn’t expect to keep, seeing this child’s birth as an excellent way to offload an unwanted inventory.

You might ask, ‘well why didn’t they want to keep at least the gold? It’s freaking gold!’ Do you know how heavy gold is per square inch. They were shepherds, not merchants!

In conclusion, I need to stop drinking coffee before bed. It gives me thoughts that aren’t along the grain.

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

That moment when you leave the shower and begin thinking ‘If Dinosaurs are closer related to birds than modern reptiles, then they likely sounded like them too’ and then suddenly can’t stop thinking of a Tyranosaurus Rex sounding like Tweety the Canary.

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Sorta Philosophical: Music

It has been said time and time again that music soothes the savage beast, but honestly I think that it's not exactly true...

Who the hell am I kidding, even I'm not that cynical to say that music has no impact on society. In fact, I'll give an example right here right now.

My all time favorite song is 'My Evil Plan to Save the World' by Five Iron Frenzy, and I always feel so energized whenever I hear this song. It's like I'd just gotten a giant kick in the motor, because listening to it makes me actually want to get out of my bed and run around the block a few dozen times.

Sigh... It was only recently that Apple put it on their iTunes app, so you could say I'm kind of drowning in my own joy right now...

This isn't really a Sorta Philosophical is it? I mean, most of the time I'm just going over weird ideas that pop into my head as soon as they do, but this one is way faster, like I just saw, bought and downloaded the song about 20 minutes ago at time of typing and I've played it a few times.

Here's the thing though; no two humans are completely the same right, so logic would dictate that different tunes also make people feel different right?

Is it really just the music soothes bit, or is there something a bit more spiritual about music that sorta resonates with the human emotion?

The lesson of today: MY EVIL PLAN TO SAVE THE WORLD! JUST YOU WAIT TILL IT'S UNFURLED! IT'LL GO DOWN IN HISTORY YA!!! (Still listening to the song at time of typing... It's really good and I recommend it if you need a bit of a pick me up and need stupider logic than one of my posts can provide.)