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49 Truths 1 Lie

Posted by Keil, 31 May 2015 · 813 views

I wrote this impulsively because @Shannon made her blog recently and a part of me feels spiteful that her life recently is so interesting and another part of me always instigates pissing contests at any given opportunity.
I have at least 28 minutes of performance recordings onsale on iTunes.
I like to lie most of the time when it comes to any strategic planning and whenever it goes very conveniently well, I claim as if it was all planned.
I have an illogical and emotional repulsion to lamp shades, but not the actual light-producing lamps themselves.
My confidence is a product of delusions of grandeur compounded with extraordinary, inhumane talent and being chosen since I was young for something big.
I primarily use NeoCodex as the only outlet of my introverted self because my real life wouldn't let that side come to light.
I'm 6 pounds over my BMI and I have no motivation to lose that weight. Just to clarify, I have no muscle weight.
I can stand being covered from head to tow with tarantulas, but dragonflies scare the shit out of me.
I am tsunamimarauders. This is a waste of a bullet.
I believe power (political, economical, social) is never produced. It is relinquished.
If it seems like I'm making myself look like a bad person, it is actually all a ruse to hide the fact that I can't be emotionally vulnerable and the disgusting things I say about myself are simply distractions from that fact.
I cringe at the times people call me a bro, on the inside of course. That is not my life.
I believe people are wrong when they say I have a corrupt ulterior motives to whatever I do. I'd rather think of it as a co-motivator.
The only reason why I immigrated to American when I was four compared to the true geniuses in my family is because a medical opportunity opened up America I couldn't get access to in the Philippines. I think my parents souls their souls for that opportunity.
I spent $1300 into publishing a book when I was 21, and the profits never helped me break even.
I went to a hospital today and saw a picture of a patient and quite possibly a Codexian. It would be cool if it were really the Codexian I think it was--but not in the way of them suffering because someone they love is in the ward, but from just thinking how everything is interconnected in one way or another. It's a small world, after all (or not).
I acknowledge I probably broke HIPAA laws with the point above, but then again, I was a visitor and not a practicing health care ~~professional~~ student this time around. Maybe I did. I really don't know if this is slander or not.
I think my ulterior motive for this blog post is for one specific person to read this and feel horribly conflicted. I am a petty, passive aggressive and a bitter person, at times.
I don't see making that one person feel conflicted as a bad thing, but the exact opposite. The rest of the reference people, I really don't care for.
Even after two weeks, I have Vicki's song from Community's paintball episode of season 6 stuck in my head.
I enjoy adept and premeditated lying at the right times because the thrill of possibly getting caught ups my game and gets my black heart beating.
I hate movies as an artistic medium.
I unintentionally smell people and memorize their scents if they walk by close enough.
My immediate fear is being proved wrong.
My eternal fear is being condemned with a certain end with no power to change it or make whatever is left the best it could be.
"Soup That Is Too Hot" is both my favorite CAH card and my biggest pet peeve with non-living things.
I say to people I've done drugs before to seem cool, but I haven't. The closest thing I've gotten close to doing opioids is eating a poppy seed bagel.
The one combination of words I hate the most is "I'm fine."
I rather don sweats in the summer than get bitten by bugs at night.
When I type, I think phonetically. I type what the syllable sounds like than the actual spelling. Most of the time it works for me, sometimes it doesn't. If it weren't for spellcheck, I'd be doomed. I think this way because I know four languages and three out of the four of them spell as they sound with very minimal exceptions. Fuck you, the English language.
I had Codex sex dreams before.
My Snapchats are very crazy, especially if you've have a video one before. Consider yourself lucky if you did receive one.
I wear a tailored back brace for all my life (not to mention going to the PT monthly) and because of that, I can't go to the gym or run that much. I ride a bike for most of my exercise.
Even though I post a lot, I consider myself a lurker. I don't actually post when I peruse Codex most of the time.
My first girlfriend dated me because she thought I was gay. She's a lesbian and originally used me (as I did her) to make our parents shut up about dating when we were both in high school.
I love all John Rutter music. My all time favorite selection from him is his Suite for Strings because it was the first difficult music I played in my high school's chamber orchestra and overbearing nostalgia trumps sound reasoning.
My right wisdom tooth is 30% cracked off. I haven't went to the dentist since October and I don't exactly need to go. Despite what all medical literature state, I think it's fine because it'll be removed anyway.
I have 8 Codexian's phone numbers and/or Snapchats. I haven't contacted anyone in over a week because reasons explained in Number #39.
I think way too much into internet relationships and dwell on too much rationale as to not talk to anyone online. I should though because of the explanation in Number #40.
I truly believe harmful, unfamiliar or distant company is better than self-perpetuated isolation.
I bought 5 pounds of Willy Wonka's Chewy Spree and it arrived last Tuesday. It is now 3 pounds and 11 ounces. I don't share my candy.
The reason why I didn't want to spearhead Team Codex this year is because I took the Altador Cup a little too seriously last year and it hurt myself and a few others as well (the anti-ACG complainers don't count).
I recently became so jaded to people sharing their deepest secrets to me that I just wanted say to them "go suck on a moderately-filled bag of dicks and fuck off"--but in a professional, non-aggressive way, and from a place of love. I think I'm starting my sociopathic phase now.
I love a pint of Friendly's Vienna Mocha Chunk ice cream more than I do for most of the people I see everyday.
I still habitually write 2014 when I date my papers. So now, the year number always ends with a weird 4 that has a 5 scribbled on top that eventually looks like a digital 9.
I never post or comment or like or friend in Facebook anymore because it makes me depressed knowing the few people I actually care about are more successful than I am and that I'd rather not see shameless selfies of people I bonded over with in state and national conferences but never talked ever again.
I just logged into Facebook for the first time in a while and found out my high school friend (we weren't all that close, but I would actually sit next to them in lunch than sit alone) who lives like a 20 minute walk from my parents house committed suicide two weeks ago. Everyone is paying their respects to the family members and her fiance who are enduring this time of hardship.
I feel like a total ass right now after seeing what I wrote in this blog post. Number #47 puts things into perspective and make me wake up to the fact that writing something like this is a waste of time. I should have accepted a family friend's offer to eat out tonight than watch a stupid season finale of a show I lost interested in halfway through.
Damn, I feel really really bad now. The funeral already happened on Saturday and I wished I went.
I was going to end this on a happy note, but now I don't feel like writing something so superficial and inconsequential about myself. I'm going to bed.