More is more

I wish I was clever enough to build my own super computer.

I don’t know what I would do with it. All I seem to do on computers these days is use it to check up on the million sites I’ve registered on, write arbitrary nonsense and spy on people, random people, probably people that don’t read my blogs. I want to know why they don’t read my blogs, it intrigues me. I have shit to say. People should listen, people in positions of power, like bank managers. I’d welcome a bank manager. I could use him to get those pens on chains. I like those pens on chains, but I probably won’t like them if I could get them so easily.

I always want what I can’t have, and when I do get it, I get bored with it. I think I may just be a spoilt brat. Not that I am a brat anymore. Not that I ever was spoilt either. I don’t think I ever owned a Barbie doll. This fact disturbs and saddens me. Every girl should have a Barbie doll. I don’t know what I would have done with one. I used to make dresses for my friends’ Barbie dolls. I wanted to be a fashion designer like Brooke from ‘The Bold and The Beautiful’. I was too young to realise that Brooke was nothing but a trailer park ho. I blame my grandmother for making me watch ‘The Bold and The Beautiful’. That must be why I’m so fucked up right now. She’s the one that probably told my mother not to get me any Barbie dolls. Typical woman. They dangle a bright shimmery dream in front of you and then leave you deprived, making you believe that you’re worthless.

When I grow up, I want to be like my grandmother. The only problem with growing up is that you get old. I don’t want to get old. I’ll have to buy those face products that fools me into thinking that it would save me from the inevitable. Buying those means I’ve given up, I’m deluded.

I don’t want to be deluded. I like this universe I’ve created for myself. Sometimes. Even though I hate my job because its all numbers, people get impressed with my job title and I earn wads of cash that I spend on junk, being a part of the vicious economic cycle. Having knowledge on the inner workings of said cycle disturbs me. I shouldn’t have to create links in my head after every interest rate hike. I can’t help it, its part of me now, and I hate myself for it. This was not the dream I had for myself. Given, I had many dreams. None of them were useful. I wanted to be an astronomer once. I thought it was so cool. I grew up and realised I needed human contact. Astronomers lack human contact. Plus they live in arb places. Like Sutherland. Its freezing in Sutherland, and I’m an indian. Indian people aren’t built for cold weather. So I’d have to wear a sheep to work everyday. I’d also have to eat a lot to insulate myself. That won’t happen. I can’t get fat.

If by chance a female is reading this right now, I bet she hates me. I don’t mind, there are lots of people that hate me a little bit. Hate is a very strong emotion. I admire strong emotions, but I dislike emotionally over-bearing people, especially those that inflict their suffering on others. These people are a waste of space and should be offed.

I should rule the world. I’ll make it a nice place. Down with posers and beautiful people with nothing intelligent to say! I don’t like these people. I also don’t like people that think that ‘less is more’. Bullshit. More is more. That is why everyone is constantly updating the world with shreds of information. More is more. Information rules the world. It comes before money, power, influence and sex. If I desired to rule the world, I’d have to corrupt information. I’d need time, and money.

I’d also need a super computer. 

Blue lights an optional extra.

Tagged , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: