#stupid encounter unlocked previous similar interactions

[meanderfall]

i wish customers understood what a joke actually was.

if your "joke" gets in the way of me doing my job, then i'm not going to find it funny. if your "messing around" just confuses me on what you actually want then it's not actually a joke. you're just annoying.

[r-29-blog]

What is writing?

What is writing? In what ways can we describe what writing is? Is it something different than just words on a page? Let us begin by asking where writing appears. Writing has existed in multiple forms. It was not a commodity as it has now become. Writing at one point was solely meant as a luxurious form in which writing was really something much different than we have right now. Writing is a commodity. In 2017 writing appears everywhere. We cannot say where it was not and where it was. Writing surrounds us. We walk down the street and it faces us. Writing has become the sole means by which we communicate. It demarcates all that we do, all that we see. How did people interact without writing? Is it because writing became mandated that we have the thoughts that we do? Is it because writing itself was only there for a few types of people? What does it mean now that the majority of people can actually write? What does writing mean for people who have been brought up in such different worlds? What does writing even mean?

 Is advertising the main drive for writing? In order for the new types of consumers to know what to buy, we had to instill some form of writing system in order to indicate what it is that we would want. How do we communicate in previous times? How was language taught? How was language known in the way in what it was? We often forget that people did not all write. People often did not have language in a certain sense. What did language mean in earlier times? Why was language the way it was in the time that it did exist? How is that language managed to get to this point? These are all questions that we ask ourselves when we feel nothing. These are questions we ask ourselves when we feel pointless. These are all questions. What more is there to ask of ourselves? What more is there to be? What can we see?

  We walk down the street and encounter writing on glass windows. We see it all around us. We cannot seem to escape writing. It is right here. It follows my thoughts and it exists as a thought. How did people exist without writing?

Writing appears in books, on computer screens. Writing appears in the newspapers and on facebook articles. How is it that the world is in such utter chaos when everything seems to be going according to plan? What is facebook? What is it even meant for? Writing is Facebook.com. How will we see its ruins on the floor? Will it be some distasteful representation of my generation? Is it merely the landscape of the now that we have. How is it that we believe we have everything? Did the previous generation ever imagine anything as revolutionary as facebook.com?

 Let us think together and find out where writing exists. I wake up every morning at seven-thirty in the morning. Depending on the season it is either bright outside or it is dark outside. There is never an in-between. There are sometimes spring morning when it is not bright out. These often occur when it is raining. However, I will no longer speak of generalities. I look to speak only of particulars. So I will try to recall my previous morning. I woke up at nine-thirty am. It was bright outside. I sleep next to my partner. If one were to face the foot of my bed, you could see that I sleep on the right-hand side while my partner sleeps on the left. There is no real reason for this. My politics are not on the right. I simply sleep on the right-side. However, since I sleep on the right side and there is no desk to my right, then I must carefully reach over my partner’s sleeping body in order to grab my cellphone. My hand reaches over and grabs the rose gold Apple iPhone 6S with 16gb of data—although there’s usually only 12gb of useable data. I normally keep my phone with the screen facing the table. So before I grab the phone, I gently sit up and look for my phone. Oh there it is. I can see the sleek rose gold Apple iPhone and Apple™’s notorious brand logo. It is an apple (surprising) with a slight bite taken out of it. All of these brands seem to always be off, but in the best way possible. Nothing can be finished. If it was a finished apple then we would no longer be able to want the apple. We always want an apple without its wholeness so that we can complain about how much we hate the logo. I guarantee you that if that apple was full, you’d have people complaining that the apple did not look realistic. Either that or you would have the abject poor infatuated with it. You can often tell a person’s social class by what they wear. Often times people assume that those who were many symbols on their shirts are the wealthiest in fact this is never true. All of these bright neon colors do nothing but signify the idiocy in them. Although I find them quite lovely. You see these bright colors, these symbols and you know exactly what kind of person that you are attempting to speak with. You see a small burgundy seagull etched on a shirt’s left breast and you immediately know that you will no longer want to talk to them. They often reek of too much cologne. They wear Rainbows sandals with their loose-fitting jeans. These people are the vapidest, the most degenerate simpletons to ever inhabit our planet. I cannot believe I must allow myself to even stand near their repugnant scent. They simply yell and laugh.

 I grab my phone. I bring it back with me as I lie back down. Finally I get to return to the cyber world. Finally I can reconnect and see who I have bothered. I push the home screen. My phone lights up. It says 8:23 AM. Right below this, it gives me the date. I put my finger on the home button in order to unlock my phone. Normally if my phone weren’t a stupid piece of shit, it would open after it recognized that my thumbprint had not changed. These new iPhones have the capability to open themselves without even putting in your password. You no longer have to waste that half-second of your swiping the screen left, say no, and then enter your code. However, when your stupid piece of shit phone no longer recognizes who you are—which is quite sad since it is the only device or person capable of recognizing you these days—and you have to input your code. So you see the three by three lines of numbers ranging from one to nine. You first hit 3. You wait a bit, no more than a tenth of a second. You then 2. You wait a little longer. This time you wait two tenths of a second. My god it is an intense two thirds of a second. You remember the light, the times when you were a child when your mother would pick you up from school and take you to the Burger King. But then you remember that Burger King is absolute garbage. They try to compensate by offering 10 pieces of their chicken ngugets for $1.29. You’re not going to fall for that though. You know the truth. Those are not really chicken nuggets. They’re just some processed byproduct that the imbecile at the packing factory forgot to extract. It is something incredibly stupid. Why would anyone try to sell you something that wasn’t what it was advertised to be? It’s almost as if that would be something illegal and the company could get fined a large sum of money. What a crazy idea!

 I hit the number two, followed by the number seven.

 Finally my phone opens and I am brought to the home screen. It is glorious because I was the one to design what screen I could put in the background. Even though I do not care to have anything serious there, I always put my phone background as something that would intrigue a certain kind of person. I always do that quite honestly. I have a picture of a relatively obscure phenomenon that I hope someone else would notice so that I know that it would be okay to speak to them. I believe that people who are interested in similar things to me are more willing to have a conversation with me rather than the everyday people that I run in to as I am about to walk down the street. So I look at the top of my phone to remember what time it is. It is eight twenty-four in the morning. I look at all of my applications and try to see what I should look at first. I should remind you that everyone has a particular makeup of their applications. Some have uneven lines filled with uncategorized applications scattered throughout three different windows. However, I am not one of those people. I keep my applications well organized in two separate rows. I like to ensure that I can see my background, because why else would I have a background? It would make no sense if I simply had a background and I covered it with a bunch of needless applications that I do not have to think about. Instead, I have very organized rows. I only have two different selections since I do not like to actually have too many applications. I separate my applications in terms of how often I use them. I obviously keep my Messages in the far-left corner so that when I open my phone I can immediately see whether someone had sent me a text message. That morning, there were no red circles in its top-right corner. I was not surprised. I normally do not receive messages aside from my partner, who would probably not message me unless there was an issue between us. However, I do not like to give personal accounts. There are more pressing matters that we must address.

 I categorize my applications into applications that I use and that I do not use. The ones that I do not use are further categorized into applications that I can delete and applications that I cannot delete. For some reason, Apple iPhones always have applications that must remain on your phone. It is always a hassle because it just wastes your data since you have no interest in using those applications.

 I continue looking at my phone for another 30 minutes.