Ghost Rider Motorcycle Hero

So, I just decided, put memories of my childhood to words. Considering my memory is going to shit, but that’s the thing about growing up. It all just sorta fades out. So, here goes on of them.

I had this alarm clock as a kid. It was good ol’ Pikachu. Basically, it was just him on top of this grassy mound thing, with a Pokeball by his side and some leaves below him, as well as the time display, some colored rubbery buttons, and a sliding switch. I forget what the buttons were all specifically for, but I do know it was related to setting time and the alarm.

Holy jumping shitballs, the alarm. Just saying that word brings back oh such wonderful times. We could never set that damn thing right, so at some point at night, whilst you were sleeping or pretty damn close to it… Pika-alarm would bolt out the “Gotta catch ‘em all, Pokemon!” chunk of the theme song, on REPEAT. I woke up in a shocked sort of stupor, trying to imagine what the sweet fuckness was going on. It woke everyone else, too, the little bastard.

As much as I wanted to, I never did dismantle that thing. Popped off the Pokeball, though. I bet he’s somewhere else now, singing the chunk of the song again and again to some other freaked-out little kid.

A discussion over feelings, finally. No violence this time. No drunkenness this time. No stupidity this time - but it’s being admitted. I don’t know how to handle things properly, I think. I either let my emotions build up, or I let myself explode.

It’s pointless. Like kicking water uphill.

I think I’ve been learning a lot lately. On myself and others. But… does it mean my faith in humanity is restoring itself?

No… Not entirely, at least. But the process of locking myself away from the world, never enjoying things on the outside… it’s a terrible thing. And it’s only going to make the depression get worse until I just become a shell of a person.

Yeah… let’s see where things go.

I should be feeling somethin’, right now. I should still be pissed off over being ditched by someone I put my trust into. But in all honesty, I barely feel a thing. Normally, I’d feel depressed, and feel like moping about it. I’d be fucking weak.

Maybe I’m already beyond that point, and my emotions fried. I shouldn’t bother feeling emotions over it - it’s as pointless as trying to kick water uphill.

Well… this is going to be something to think over.

So I just decided, after watching a video making fun of this “3 Second Rule” song of hers, I’d watch the video, despite feeling like it was just as smart as putting my fucking arm in a shark tank while it’s bleeding.

WHAT THE FUCK. Whoever let this woman pull a Rebecca Black deserves… I dunno, a spinedectomy with a rusty fork. I felt concerned by the number of cowboys that appeared throughout the video, and felt a Brokeback Mountain coming on… turns out they were just victims to this woman’s rule. And her terrible voice that wasn’t edited in any conceivable way - bad move on their part, considering that was borderline ear-rape.

I don’t get the message to the song. Why make this three second rule, Lisa?? Because all I’m seeing is a cougar, waiting for her prey to strike… or get drunk to the sound of “Achey-Breaky Heart”.