tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40462138054378493472024-02-20T12:56:32.524-08:00Thoughtless PhilosophyObservations from an average citizenNinja Atrocioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11065855219249022812noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046213805437849347.post-17445260041552607682010-02-03T19:09:00.000-08:002010-02-03T19:09:41.795-08:00Dreams<span style="color: #444444;">The sheer</span> <span style="color: #6aa84f;">irrational nature of a dream</span><span style="color: #444444;"> boggles my mind. Many a curious phenomena make an appearance in a single dream, weather simple or co</span><span style="color: #444444;">mplex. Odd behaviors such as<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> mass</span> <span style="color: #6aa84f;">hyperbole</span> and <span style="color: #6aa84f;">outrageous gesticulatory conversation</span> amass themselves in the dream so well, that to our own person, it feels as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Only when we wake up and verbalize our dreams do we realize how plainly silly they really were. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">Another exquisitely complex behavior is the act of 'sleeptalking'. Personally, sleeptalking perturbs me. It is disturbing to know that people may listen to what one is dreaming. </span>Ninja Atrocioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11065855219249022812noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046213805437849347.post-36813168045065276992010-01-26T17:50:00.000-08:002010-01-26T17:50:40.306-08:00The Breakup<span style="color: #666666;">In my experience, when your significant other says something along the lines of <span style="color: #6aa84f;">"It's not you, it's me"</span>, it means that <span style="color: #6aa84f;">the relationship is over</span>. Gone with the wind, so to speak. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666;">It also comes to my attention that <span style="color: #6aa84f;">the human heart involuntarily races</span> during the time immediately following those dreaded words. Breathing becomes hitched, tear ducts begin to excrete a salty substance, and one tunes out most of what is going on around them. Even if the breakup isn't official at that point, "It's not you, it's me" pretty much seals the deal.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666;">Ah, the unforgiving nature of a relationship. Fluxuating feelings of insecure and emotionally perturbed beings jeopardize the success of happy and doubtless involvement with others of the same species. <span style="color: #6aa84f;">Emotion</span>, playing a large role in the success of said involvement, quickly <span style="color: #6aa84f;">takes over human logic</span> during a breakup. Intelligent thoughts escape even the most experienced of humanity, and thus results in use of an overused cliché.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666;">Goodness knows the vulnerability of the fragile human race; yet time will heal all wounds.</span>Ninja Atrocioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11065855219249022812noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046213805437849347.post-86258928563599553692010-01-09T18:12:00.000-08:002010-01-26T17:52:40.830-08:00"Curses!!"<span style="color: #666666;">Why is it that whenever someone yells something like "curseeees!!" or "I'll get youuuuuu!", they shake their fist at the sky with unrelenting fervor?</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #666666;">Upon learning of my own viral sickness, I proceeded to yell and shake my clenched hand upward. I then realized that it is only through modern society and severe cliché that I ever learned such an action. Why upward, towards heaven? Are we <span style="color: #93c47d;">blaming God for our own failure</span>, or are we just <span style="color: #93c47d;">attempting to create a telepathic communication with the problem</span> without shaking our fist directly outward, and possibly offending a passerby? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666;">I have thought of many a possible reason, and have concluded to reform my own actions. I will now shake my fist at the source of my grievances: <span style="color: #38761d;">The demonic entities that elicit my sickness</span>, aka my own inability to stay healthy.</span>Ninja Atrocioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11065855219249022812noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046213805437849347.post-20267804008946553652010-01-05T10:08:00.000-08:002010-01-26T17:53:36.706-08:00Establishment<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">w e l c o m e</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;">as it should be said. </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;">The more I think about this blog thing, the more I want to just toss it over my shoulder like a jacket and carry it with me. That's funny. Funny, as in ironic. I'm writing this post to no one but myself. I can say anything, and no one will hear. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666;">HELLO! LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN! MY POTATOES ARE ON FIRE!</span> <span style="color: #93c47d;">ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY WALK INTO MORDOR!</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666;">That being adressed, I believe that I should set some things straight, with myself: </span><br />
<ol><li><span style="color: #666666;">You are not Thoreau. </span></li>
<li><span style="color: #666666;">You are not Emerson. </span></li>
<li><span style="color: #666666;">Trancendentalism does not flow out of your fingertips like a magical power. </span></li>
</ol><span style="color: #666666;">You are simply Ninja Atrocious, whose glorious wonder cannot be contained by the mere walls of an emotionless blog. </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;">With all sincerity,</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><strong><em>Myself</em></strong></span>Ninja Atrocioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11065855219249022812noreply@blogger.com0