New poem

As I walked down
The road of his life
I felt with my feet
the stones, the grass, the dirt, and other things,
My feet grew sore, as they encountered all these textures,
but I felt alive,
as I touched the memories of a dead man.

Indie games

I’ve been waiting to play some games. I like indie games, pretentious art games, punk experimental games, games that exist to defy the mainstream. Made by starving artists and new-age geeks they present one of the last entertainment forms that remain truly counter-culture. “The Path” was my favorite, a surreal interactive retelling of Little Red Riding Hood that felt like you were playing a David Lynch movie. Something less artsy and more humorous is “AaaaaAAaaaAAAaaAAAAaAAAAA!!! -- A Reckless Disregard for Gravity” a game about base-jumping in the far future, with each level being described in a made-up jargon and your score measured in teeth. New video games are so often clones of old games, and genres are so homogenous that I love these indie games for going so far out of the realm of convention.

very short story

This is a story inspired by my modernist class.



There is a man who sufferers horribly He has spent years of his life with disease, alone with no one to care for him. Today he prays to God. 'God' he says, "please help me through my pain.' God looks upon him, and sees his miserable life and pities him. He cures the mans illness and blesses him so that he will soon find true love. God ensures he will live happily ever after. Done with his task, God goes on to smite an orphanage in a third world country that is plauged with starvation and aids.

The end.

PSAT

I'm taking a the PSAT on Saturday. I'm hoping to get a 180. I got a 164 last time, so it's definitely within the realm of possibility. If I can get a 180 I could join Mensa. I don't really want to be a part of the organization, but being part of somthing that most people are not "smart" enough to get into is appealing. I suppose it's superficial to want to be able to do somthing just for the perception in carries with it, but it would be a way of validating my worth to myself. I want proof that I am smart. Somtimes I feel I just pretend to be.

Miserable Lunch

I had a miserable lunch on Friday. The adjustment counselor decided, in order to help me make friends, I would have lunch with three kids she knew. It was just awful. They were two grades younger, and it definitely showed. One of them was the son of a math teacher I had last year, and while he was potentially weird enough to be interesting I didn't "relate" to him or anything. The counselor tried to stimulate conversation by having us answer stupid, pointless, insipid, questions like "what month is your birthday?" and, "what is your favorite candy?" How the hell would anyone get an understanding of someone else with this kind of information?

I find it hard to talk to one stranger, it's impossible to try to talk to three strangers at once. There would even have been a fourth; a truly obnoxious, annoying girl ,who thankfully had other plans. I don't know why the counselor thought it was a good idea. I think that she thinks if you put a bunch of weirdos together, they will all become friends. It was embarrassing, awkward, and barely tolerable. The worst part is I might have to go through that all over again next Friday.