I hate youtube. Not because of the horrible parody videos, or the v-logs that make me want to scratch my eyes out, or even the huge amounts of ass-clapping videos and emo kids making out. No. it's the fucking comments section.
And you cannot escape the comments section. No mater which video you click on, there will be some sort of flame war. Forget Ke$ha videos and Usher, almost everything has a comment saying something rude and ignorant.
I like Ke$ha, but I have no illusions as to what she is, which is auto-tuned and something you can dance to. But I don't comment on her videos about how if you want real music go listen to Metallica or Queen. I pride myself in having a varied musical taste. Yes, I love the screaming guitar rifts that AC/DC gives me. Okay, when System of a Down comes on my MP3 I turn the volume up. But I also like the mindless bass of The Black Eyed Peas (Even if they are thieving bastards) and the head-bopping sounds from Basshunter.
Are they deep? No. Do they have some sort of uniqueness that endears them to me? No. They are mindless songs that I can get lost in and sing along should I choose. But the fine world of Youtube comments seems to think I can only like one or the other. I can't enjoy Enter Sandman and then Your love is my Drug, it's just not possible! My head might explode!
And even on these 'Real music' videos, When you can watch a montage of a bunch of old guys in various poses while listening to one of their later songs, you'll see a video that has been voted up that says "Hell yes I love Metallica SO MUCH! So much better then Lady GaGa. This is what real music sounds like!"
Oh shut up! No one cares! I like Lady Gaga you bastard, just shut up. I came to listen to this music, not read you being stupid. Just enjoy the song and leave it alone!
The boyfriend is of this school of thought. He hates 'My music' and turns it down whenever I get to play it. And it angers me.
I just felt like ranting. :P
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
She is!
She has so many things to do and never enough time to do them, because she can't remember how long each thing takes or how she should handle them. She can't sleep. When she does sleep it's unproductive and frustrating. Work is something she dreads because every moment spent there is another moment of anger, or wasting time. She should be doing something important, dammit. Something better. Not pretending to smile because no one really cares about her problems. She goes through each step of polite niceties because if she doesn't, if she deviates from that set path of 'Hello, how are you?' 'Good, you?' 'Fine. What can I get you?' It might make someone else uncomfortable. The small talk is a necessary thing.
Even though her days are filled with knowing she isn't good enough she pretends, because if she dosen't pretend then they will see it. The ones who snicker and make cow noises as she walks by and the ones who see her as some sort of emotionless animal covered in blubber. They will know that they get to her, and that would be bad. Because if they know that then they will use it, and if they use it they may finally beat her. As long as she hides it from everyone, she is fierce. She is invincible and feral. She will reduce you to tears or speechless looks.
She is every middle-class deadbeat woman who cannot find her place in the world. She is you and mean and anyone else who feels alone because of the hateful snobbery of others. And she is powerful in her own right.
She draws others to her with personality alone. Her smile is quick, her jokes clever. She can go from kindly talking to her best friend to vehemently defending her from another in seconds. She is generous. She loves and feels and laughs. She is delighted by a loving spouse and saddened by the plights of others. She is ambitious, she is stuck. She is confused and hurt but hopeful and healing.
You are beautiful. You are smart and you have talent. Your eyes sparkle with the light of someone who will live and learn and discover new things. You will fall, but you will climb again. Never forget that.
Never.
Even though her days are filled with knowing she isn't good enough she pretends, because if she dosen't pretend then they will see it. The ones who snicker and make cow noises as she walks by and the ones who see her as some sort of emotionless animal covered in blubber. They will know that they get to her, and that would be bad. Because if they know that then they will use it, and if they use it they may finally beat her. As long as she hides it from everyone, she is fierce. She is invincible and feral. She will reduce you to tears or speechless looks.
She is every middle-class deadbeat woman who cannot find her place in the world. She is you and mean and anyone else who feels alone because of the hateful snobbery of others. And she is powerful in her own right.
She draws others to her with personality alone. Her smile is quick, her jokes clever. She can go from kindly talking to her best friend to vehemently defending her from another in seconds. She is generous. She loves and feels and laughs. She is delighted by a loving spouse and saddened by the plights of others. She is ambitious, she is stuck. She is confused and hurt but hopeful and healing.
You are beautiful. You are smart and you have talent. Your eyes sparkle with the light of someone who will live and learn and discover new things. You will fall, but you will climb again. Never forget that.
Never.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
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