Chopped 10/12/97 --- October 8, 1997: You know you have too much time on your hands when you open up 3 telnet windows so that you can use the (a)dd a user feature of ytalk by ytalking with yourself 3 ways. --- October 6, 1997(am): lots of depressing stuff (whoah, like, what a suprise!) Closed weekends suck. I really shouldn't get so attached to people. I mean, even people are temporary too, right? ...and my mom... god.... sometimes it's really hard to keep the car going in a straight line, not hitting anything... otherwise, she's nifty. but god, not in the car. I should just make her wear a blindfold and tell her not to speak unless she hears glass breaking. it's kinda hard stumbling around in the dark when you don't know what you're looking for. I've heard this is a syndrome called teenage-ism. I hope that's right - it means I'll be cured in 3 1/2 years. For some reason, though, I don't think it's that easy. I keep thinking that my life is falling apart ... but then I think "what cohesion was there to begin with?" Why is it that even the happiness hurts? -- ------ FriendFinder 2.4c ============================= Casey Allen Peel ------ Please accept my condolences, none of your friends are currently logged on. -- Sun Oct 5 23:42:08 1997 ------------------------------- cpeel@iname.com -- ... the story of my life. Sept. 30, 1997 (post-Calculus project) All I've thought about for the past 72 hours is Calculus. and All I can think about now is "Damn I need a shave." judgement day came And the lord descended upon the earth. I beheld him in all his glory and he looked at me and thought about my life - all my good deeds all my sins all my sacrifice all my joy and he said "B minus" B minus? Have I really lived a "B minus" life? ... Well, at least it's still honor roll. I think I figured our why I like pain (see this morning's entry). It's because when I'm sad, it gives me a little reminder that I'm still alive. I've got smooth cheeks now. --- Sept. 30, 1997: Calculus sucks no, just epsilons and deltas I like pain. I like to hurt and I like to cry. I don't know why. but at least I can recognize that I do. I used to think that it was because it made me feel more human. but I don't know anymore. I think we're all massochists. some people hurt their bodies, with knives and the like. some hurt their souls, by loving people they don't. and doing things they dislike. every day, getting up and going to their little shit jobs doing nothing that doesn't do anything for anyone. and they go home to their shit lives and plop on the couch and watch tv and drink beer and raise kids which are just more fucked-up versions of themselves. then they go to bed with people they don't love and sleep, dreaming about things they know they can't have and never will have the motivation to reach for. then the alarm goes off. and they do it over again. that's what depresses me. not that I do it not that some people do it but that EVERYbody does it. there's this chic i know that takes a lighter and burns it till it gets hot and holds it against her skin until it gets cold and it burns these little markings into her arms. shes done it a lot too, more than a couple times. I mean, you gotta be pretty fucked up to do shit like that.. it's kinda disturbing how many fucked up people I know. and you know what's ironic? they're smiley faces. --- night after night, it really makes you wonder why we do this to ourselves staying up so late leaving everything to the last minute cramming or going back to the same abusive lovers or returning everyday to the same menial jobs or surrouding ourselves every day with the same depressing/ed people it just doesn't seem right but it happens every day was it like this three thousand years ago with the druids and the nomads? has mankind learned anything in its hundreds upon hundreds of years of existence? why? why do we hurt ourselves? ever wonder why cries of ecstacy are so hard to distinguish from cries of pain and looks of extreme pleasure identical to those of extreme sadness? why do I care? why do I think? in the words of those people sitting on the couches at the end of the hall pretending to study, calculus can suck my dick. --- Sept. 28, 1997 C.E. "I didn't say we weren't normal. I said we were disturbed." - Scott Bryant --- Sept. 23, 1997: All Hail nib elcycer! And the prophet logged onto his account and sent spam-mail to all his followers, and thus was it written: ***====----- . . . -----====*** I, the first and only prophet of the Only Great god, do hereby bring you, the second chosen people, this message. I have seen the words of the god, and he typed unto me: >I am the Only Great god and I have chosen you to be my prophet, to >lead my second chosen people (sorry, I only got second pick). >You will teach them of my ways and you will show them into the light. >I, who take unwanted bits and bytes, old before their time, and put >them back to use, shall lead you. >And when they ask you who sent you, tell them that I am nib elcycer, >and I am the Only Great god. -- ... "Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?" Pooh queried. --- Blue Wave/DOS v2.30 [NR]*** ***====----- . . . -----====*** Thus was spammed by the great prophet of the Only Great god, nib elcycer. --- Sept. 22 1997 I need to learn a UNIX scripting language!!!! If anyone can borrow me a Perl book or a TCshell book or something?! I'd be most appreciative! thanks. --- Sept. 16, 1997 This morning I found a packet of (I assume) powdered cheese in my box. It was marked with an orange high lighter. It said "CHEEESE", underlined, with a =) (only vertical) underneath. On the back, it says PLMC46 CHEESE AUG3198A04 I haven't opened it yet. **Conspiracy theory: someone from the future had this conspicouous packet of powdered cheese delivered back in time to my mailbox so that the snipers would know who to kill - the guy holding the packet of powdered cheese with "CHEEESE" marked on the outside in big bright orange highlighter letters. --- So, I once had a .plan file on my old ISP, that was when they were small and they still allowed their users access to their home directory. And then one day they locked the home directories and made them readonly, so I couldn't update it, and then they moved the personal webpages to a dedicated server, so my .plan file now then had has incorrect information in it. But I poked around and I seemed to be the only person that had a .plan file, so I didn't complain about not being able to edit it for fear that they would just delete it. But now I have a real .plan file! and it's all mine I shall name it Tony. - Hi I am Tony, Benjamin's .plan file. Read me and enjoy me, but most of all, ... no, nevermind. That joke's way too overplayed anyway. How 'bout you just read and enjoy me? k? cool. --- "I have spent nights with matches and knives, leaning over ledges only 2 flights up. Cutting my heart, burning my soul, nothing left to hold. Nothing left but blood and fire." -excerpt from /Blood & Fire/ by the Indigo Girls. /g ,ggg_ ,MD @###@ A#D ] \#B J"#D #@ ,* #D ,B" @__#D_ &C ]#####@ /P , ?#@ ,@__d^ #D ,@#### pssst- it's The Answer to Life the Universe and Everything! ==Contact info== --school: phone: 940.369.6418 (now new & improoved, *with* answering machine!) snail mail: Benjamin Bradley UNT PO Box 306712 Denton, TX 76203 --Dallas: phone: 214.330.6706 snail mail: (me) 113 So. Briscoe Blvd. Dallas, TX 75211 If you send me any bombs, I request that you please clearly mark "BOMB" on the outside in large letters, so that I might avoid an early and/or untimely death. I will explode when I damn well choose, thank you. --Internet: see http://members.tripod.com/~lostpoet/schedule.html to find out when I'll be in Dallas (closed weekends). bbradley@iname.com * permanent = bbradley@hyphos.com = bgb0004@jove.acs.unt.edu 9bradley@tamslab.unt.edu http://members.tripod.com/~lostpoet/ * permanent -> http://web2.airmail.net/lostpoet/ <- http://people.unt.edu/~bgb0004/ AIM screenname: LostPoet01 UIN: 2138802 I'm attending TAMS, the Texas Academy of Mathematics and Science. Song lyrics are nice. Songs are good. sing. even if you think you can't. even if you're dumb. everyone can sing. -- The Rose Amanda McBroom Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed Some say love, it is a hunger an endless aching need I say love, it is a flower, and you it's only seed It's the heart, afraid of breaking that never learns to dance It's the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes a chance It's the one who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give And the soul, afraid of dyin', that never learns to live When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows, Lies the seed, that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes The Rose. -- the following is my #1 anti-depressant song: --- Author: Indigo Girls Album title: Indigo Girls Closer to Fine ------ -- ---- I'm trying to tell you something about my life Maybe give me insight between black and white The best thing you ever done for me Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life afterall Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable And lightness has a call that's hard to hear I wrap my fear around me like a blanket I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore Chorus: I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains There's more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line The less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine The closer I am to fine I went to see the doctor of philosophy With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee He never did marry or see a B-grade movie He graded my performance, he said he could see through me I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper And I was free Chorus I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m. To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend I woke up with a headache like my head against a board Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before And I went in seeking clarity. I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains We go to the doctor, we go to the mountains We look to the children, we drink from the fountains Yeah, we go to the bible, we go through the workout We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout There's more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line The less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine The closer I am to fine The closer I am to fine Originally submitted by ? Reformatted and extracted to a single lyric file by Doug Henkle --- and this is a little thing I wrote after recovering from a very wrenching psychological breakdown, posted here so that you might know that you are not alone. other people have been low and there is always another way out. run away if you have to, you can always live on the streets, but you only live once. --- standing on the edge ---------------------- I was just standing there, minding my own business as usual, then someone brushed into me or the wind blew, or something like that, and I lost my balance. I twirled around just in time to notice that I was standing on the edge. All that time, standing on the edge and not knowing it. And then I fell in. Into the icky, muddy, refuse-ridden sludge. I was sinking, sinking, sinking. The regurgitated excrement filling my ears, my nose, and my mouth, choking me. I think I almost died that day, early in the morning. I think a part of me did die that day, the part that would still like to believe. But it opened my eyes, and when I crawled out, my body shivering and smelly, I knew where I stood. And as I stand here on the edge, my body shivering when the wind blows, I only hope that I won't fall in again. I don't think I can swim as well anymore. (c) 2/5/1997 Benjamin Bradley --- My obligatory .plan file quotes (numbered for your pleasure): 1. potassium chlorate (heated) + gummmy bear --> flame + abuse 2. "There's no right, there's no wrong. There's only popular opinion." -_12 Monkeys_ 3. 4% of American women don't wear underwear. 4. "laundry is cool"-Butthead 5. "I didn't know cows had boobs - I thought they just had that big nutsack with all those weiners on it."-Beavis 6. "It's the stupidest coolest place to hang out, it's better than the public library" -John Loveland, in reference to handing out at PetCo 7. "What does it mean to wake out of a dream and be wearing someone else's shorts?" - from "Same Thing" by the Barenaked Ladies 8. "All you really need is a backpack and some friends" - Devin,road rules 2 9. "May we all stay crazy and live the bitchin' life" - Robin Williams 1978 10. Susannah Bradley: "I thought you (said you) didn't have enough money?" Michael Bradley: "It's only money." 11. "Immature artists imitate. Mature artists steal." -Lionel Trilling (quoted only becuase it's in a poem I wrote and I couldn't remember who said it) 12. "I love working till I drop. I love looking back on the day and knowing I put another book online. That's what I'm here for. ****===--> If I feel like I'm crashing, I eat. If that doesn't work,<-* ****===--> I sleep. I live by the nanosecond and burn the candle at <-* ****===--> both ends. With a blowtorch." <-* --Michael Hart, head of Project Guttenberg (project Guttenberg intends to make all classic texts available online - complete works of shakespeare, the Illiad, etc.) 13. "Everything important has been said before." -philosopher Alfred North Whitehead.