What’s ironic?

People shortening certain words, like original to become ori. Sure, it may sound cool, but it beats the purpose. Original spelt ori? If you told me that this certain copy of software was ori I’d think it wasn’t. Simply because ori is not the original spelling of the word “original“. Like a pirate calling his software original would say ori because it’s market slang.

Of course, ori is an original way of saying original but is not the original spelling of the word “original“.

In other words, ori may be creative for lazybums who can’t pronounce it, but original is the original, proper, authentic way of spelling original.

So go forth and say it after me. Original. Yep. It adds class. Like Ice Lemon Tea and Iced Lemon Tea. The D at the end of Ice adds to the price and classiness of the drink.

It’s sad when you realize that all your efforts only helped change how you feel about yourself, and nobody notices. They still think so, even with no prior notice.

It was then that I accepted myself for being like that. I knew it was bad, and I tried breaking out of it. I thought I did but to no avail! Results may vary.

Perhaps my own individualism is too strongly rooted in me. I’m trying to sell out, with the gag reflex coming right after, but I wonder if it’s all in my head. So all the accomplishments I intended to have were illusions in my introspection. I’m not different from before or any better to any of you.

It’s like dreaming that I’ve climbed out of the well. Or how you’re lying down in bed, and your muscle twitches, and you think you got up.

It’s frustating. When I get into one of these introspective thinking loops, I truly feel like what I’m doing at the moment (say walking around town alone) is meaningless.

What’s worse now is that I realize that I’ve become good at adapting bad traits of others. Fickleness. Hard-headedness. Stinginess. Others used to point out those evils in other people, and I would whole-heartedly agree. G would b***h about H and I would agree with G. I would psyche myself not to inherit H‘s traits. Then I’d realize that I had those same hate-able traits as H, but not from H, but other people totally unrelated to H. My friends were dirty as well. Perhaps then I could relate to H. Of course, G is still drumming in my ears, and I now hate my own traits that I tried so hard not to have.

I can relate to a guy that everybody hates for his traits. They haven’t realized that I was once like him. They don’t hate me in the same way because I had a few years of experience and unnecessary authority.

Insecurity is ironic. It makes me try to break out, but it’s the same thing that draws me back to my roots. I’m too chicken poop to progress and expand. All I wanna be is appreciated, and not in the regular cheap fondness way. If I believed in God, or somebody who had unconditional love, maybe I’d be happy. The scientist in me denies me that cheap illusion.

Perhaps I’m spoilt. I know I’m appreciated somewhat, but I don’t appreciate their appreciation as much as I should.

Then again, who are my friends? Why do I go to them? Some are for purely materialistic reasons. The dude has cool toys. The dude has a car. The dude can go out at night. The dude has a new joke every day. The dude updates me on our interests. In a sense, they are more of business partners.

What do I have to offer?

Privacy. What does it mean to you online?

To me, it’s just about not getting spam. However, I’m so used to ticking delete boxes that it doesn’t matter anymore.

To others, it may be about how your information may be sold and misused. I say to that, stop being paranoid!

Sure, the FBI has your house address, but you don’t see it in green nightvision on CNN…

If I know your full name, what can I do with it anyway?