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An email from 9/16/1999 to my supervisor. I wonder how this turned out:

see here-

i HATE getting home at 7, after working 9+ hours, and only having a couple

hours before i should sleep. sleep, that is, if i need to wake up at 9am for

work, which of course i do to survive. as i said long ago, i can never work

a 9-5 job...and i was right...and yet i continue to do so, zombified,

because of money's obscene and paradoxical necessity. earn money so you can

do the things you want. only, earning the money takes all the time you have

to do anything anyway. while we're young, that time is in days; go around

muttering "oh no i spent my day working so i can't do shit better go to

bed"...and then when we're older curse and beat your head on the floor with

"oh shit, i'm ninety...i meant to travel but i was busy working my whole

life into oblivion"... IT KEEPS GOING and GOING and GOING and GOING and

GOING and GOING and ...

i LOVE staying up into the wee hours of the morning and then sleeping until

one. that's the best. then you get up and have a bowl of cereal and watch

some cartoons until you're awake. drink some coffee, smoke some cigarettes,

maybe MUD a bit or write a story, or just read in some park all afternoon.

then, go out and have some drinks, eat dinner somewhere, fuck some girl,

come home, mess around, talk shit, fly to Europe, write, read, laugh until

the wee hours of the morning. Sleep till one. Fuck again. Repeat.

*POOF* old-school now present day fantasy gone. instead, automaton

propaganda mentality brainwashed, beaten into our nubile skulls since

birth - American work ethic, American ideals of success equated to the

material instead of the spiritual - imperialistic ethic created by puppet

master fatcat bald business tycoons, equipped to destroy all which does not

fit in their confines.

work like a slave all day, bored out of your mind with a bunch of fucking

scum that deserve to have their flesh roasted for taking delight in such

mundane idiocy.

each of us, motes in this universe, which is but a speck of sand on a beach

of universes, whose beach is but a piece of gravel in another universe,

whose universe is but a diamond on God's belt, and God, who is but a dream

in another's mind, who is but a glimmer in another's eye, who is but a

reflection in a marble among many marbles in a bag of marbles in a foreign

hand. smash that bag of marbles and destroy trillions and trillions of

universes and people, but then have nothing again, which is something.

Jay

p.s.

nothing we do affects us, and everything we do affects us, like ripples in

water. all tributaries are too complex for finite minds to comprehend, and

yet all unique, subjective decisions subtly affect others, so that the

collective consciousness is just that, and yet not at all, for it only

exists from the individual, and on and on until both destiny and free will

drink each other's blood and insanity flows like cum in lava..whatever..

anyway, that's my rant.

pete: i'll be in at 10 as always. of course, i never sleep sooner than 4am,

i just can't, so i'll be demented again.

J

------------------------------------

Jay XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

System Administrator / Web Developer

Grey Interactive Worldwide

[email protected]

I was only a wee seven months, eleven days old.

Still, ROFLMAO

My god. "Never trust anyone over 30."

I was 10 days from being born by then.

I wasnt even a fetus then!

I have 102 year old patients who grip me with gnarled claws and incessantly mumble, "Don't get old." I feel like one of them, now.

Haha, I was in 2nd grade then. I remember people saying when I was about 15 telling me to not anticipate being 21 which I am now, because once you reach 21 it goes faster then after graduating high school, and yea they were right.

You should see what happens at 30. That decade flies past. Unfortunately, the 50 year olds tell me the 40's fly by even more quickly. For my 40th I plan to skydive into Cuba.

Well if it makes Madglee feel any better, I had just finished college with my bachelor's of science degree in psychology back in 1999.

Technically I was finished with all the classes in 1998, but I didn't realize I had to make an official "announcement" that I was graduating and fill out paperwork. So I was basically enrolled just to get the diploma at that point.

I feel much better. I finished 1998 too, with a BFA creative writing and a minor in secondary education with a dropped philosophy minor.

Then I attacked NYC and lost.

NYC tends to have a high population rate and that usually means you can't just send a 1-man army to conquer it. :P

I was three in 1999.

Well, my frontal assault was complete 50's William Burroughs' style action, so the populace was just a side stream blur.

16th of September... this was exactly the day I turned four years old. 

So...

Glee and friends ---> Kotor ---> Fireplay ---> Me ---> Others?

I mean, we're practically giving our exact birthdates away...

Heh, I don't mind people knowing my age... but good point. *reads up on how old all these other people must be!*

... I thought I was one of the youngest on this site.

I thought I was.  XD

You're younger than me, at least! xD

Our family didn't even own a computer in 1999... 

Aging is great fun! (clawes reach out, scratching)

*swats away Claws of Age* Back! Back, I say!

I looked at this thread, thought "wow, we have a lot of young people", then realized I'm only four years older than the ones who weren't born. I guess I'm just ready to be old -_-

Lol

I was 1 at the time still playing with knives, ah memories. :)

I'm serious when I was 1 I got into the knife drawer and was playing with steak and those really big knives.

Even I played with knives. I think i got them out of the dishwasher and played with it. I had blood all over my hands. My brother called my mother and she stopped me. What about founding a knife faction?

Huh, because when most kids played with knives, I was busy shoving my hand in stoves...

What the hell was I thinking?

Hah, when I was young I was curious about how candles flames would feel like.

Yeah that didn't end well...

I always put tissue and stuff like that in the candles after it burned me the first time.

That's when I realized that I was kind of a pyromaniac. I always made sure to create mini bon-fires without killing the candle light.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

That email was a joy to read haha

Ah, way back when I was too young to comprehend the world around me... interesting times, those.

When I was 3 I found my dad's pocket knife and was playing with it and cut my thumb :P.  Looking back it probably wasn't any more than a little cut, but it seemed like I severed my thumb at the time xD

This didn't happen to me, but a friend of my dad once told me when he was a little kid, he woke up one morning before the rest of his family and starting playing with a lighter and set some paper on fire with it just to watch it burn.

As he was looking on in fascinating he didn't realize how so close he was to the curtains and accidently set them on fire, didn't help that they were made of some really flammable material so they went up immediately.

He panicked and started calling for help where upon his older brother and his mother got up and managed to put out the fire.

His mom decided he needed to learn a lesson about the dangers of fire, so she had his older brother sit on him while she took his hand and proceeded to burn his fingers with the lighter.

After a couple burned fingers later, he learned his lesson and never played with fire again.

Ouch... Effective but... Ouch

I was way, way much behaved than you guys :P 

When I was young, I only get to touch my fingers with crayons and paper. Not a pyromaniac, knife-loving child. Just a mere artist. 

Of course, I've done that too.  It never hurts to be suicidally adventurous XD

I think my parents warned me so well or I saw them hurt themselves (cutting vegetables, slip of the blade, that sort of thing) that I never wanted to try experimenting with knives. I was very wary of all blades, even the dumb blunt things you use at a table setting. 

As for fire, I used to have nightmares about it after seeing a building go up in flames when I was hardly a toddler. Just the look of it was terrifying enough, I never wanted to feel it. I still can't force myself to move as near as most people go to a bonfire. 

Best thing I did was accidents, but that didn't really start until I was 5 years old. Apparently slamming my thumb in a car door started this really sick trend. If there was something 'better' than accidents, it was operations and surgical scars. xD I don't think I needed to take any risks...

Of course, when I was around six-seven, I was practicing knife-fighting in my head.  And then I stopped a year later XD

... why did you stop!? I started around that age and just haven't stopped!

Well, you know how your early childhood is a blur?  It's not until a certain age do you start remembering things clearly...

I gained a sort of sentience when I was around six, not to mention my cousin was a bit of a freak with guns and knives at the time.  I kinda got scared by him.

From what it seems, I was a coward compared to all of you. I hated touching knives, since I was scared i would accidently stab myself. :P

Mine was that I'd drop the knife and it'd cut off all my toes. 

Mine wasn't that bad... 

I've never really stopped playing with knives or fire just got better now I burn plastic things to mold new army men and are on my way to becoming a expert knife thrower. I keep my knives sharp.

btw I didn't even cut myself when I was 1 or when I was 4 and found about our friend fire...

Hehe...I'm an extreme pyromaniac and masochist, but I don't like sharp things. I prefer to punch myself or get hit with something blunt, like a gigantic dictionary :D

Owwww

Say hello to my Katana giant dictionary!!!

See I never got hurt from knifes or fire, just from my own stupidity. When I was 4 or 5 my dad was making cookies. He set the pan out to cool, of course not telling me to touch it because it was hot. And what do I proceed to do next? Stick the side of my face into the pan  >.< I still actually remember that, I don't remember the pain, but I remember doing it and remember my dad trying not to laugh at me as I have my head in the sink pouring cold water on the burn. 

A similar event happened to me but from my dads stupidity.

When I was 8 he left out a pan with grease in it then turned it on. The grease jumped like a grease does that splattered all over me. I still have some of the burn marks my arms and chest took most of that crap.