<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2596720297311270225</id><updated>2009-02-20T22:50:10.177-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Outlandish Development</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2596720297311270225/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>OutlandishDevelopment</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03081262375012196341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2596720297311270225.post-5644364408505723123</id><published>2008-05-19T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T15:50:09.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A cynic?... Me?</title><content type='html'>I'm fat, the world is cruel, men are pigheaed, women are bitches, people will never change, I will never become anything, my dreams won't be fullfilled, life won't be as exciting as I hope it will, parents aren't good role models, teachers aren't intelligent, authority is corrupt. Maybe that's all true, maybe it's all complete shit. Either way it's irrelevant because whether it's true or not everything in my life is negative as of recently. You'd never guess usually. I've been gifted with a lovely customer service fake-ass smile to please the whole world... and sadly it works. Let's say for the sake of security that I work at Walmart (though I wouldn't be caught dead at a Walmart). The typical conversation is as follows: &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fake bitch 1: "Hi Matt, how are you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matt: "I'm doing very well thanks! And yourself?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matt's Thoughts: "Well, actually I'm emotionally drained and life is taking a serious turn for the worse but you don't give a shit, you only asked to be polite."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fake bitch 1: "Bad. The weather is terrible, everything costs to much, gas is expensive [insert big stupid laugh as if by talking about gas prices we've apparnetly shared some sort of hilarious inside joke] and my wife died."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matt: "Oh... um... well, that's okay! It's supposed to be sunny on tuesday!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Matt's Thoughts: "Fuck you... I didn't want your life story. I was being nice..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's analyze that conversation, shall we? Indeed Matt, we shall! (Isn't it sad that I'm the only person I can get along with?) Anywho, notice that the fake bitch (aka the everyman as long as we are practicing being cynical) asks me how I am though it is very obvious he doesn't care. I then proceed to pretend I'm good because it fits convention, but inside I'm ripping apart this person's sorry attempt at small talk. I then return the favor and ask politely how the fake bitch is even though we both know neither of us care. Then he/she has the NERVE to actually tell me how much his or her life sucks! Where does he get off thinking he can pull that kind of crap. Unless it's a very entertaining story, I have to know and like someone to give a shit. I give a half-assed attempt to brighten the situation, but inside it's rather apparent that I don't want to hear it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now here's where the real point of my post comes in. Am I a cynic? Well, actually I know I'm being cynical. Does being cynical on occasion make me a cynic. Doesn't everyone see the negative side of things every so often... Where is the line drawn between natural pessimisn and an overall negative person? I sometimes (namely today) worry that I'm never happy anymore. Perhaps at some point I crossed the line... maybe ALL my smiles are fake smiles to cover up the fact that I'm generally discontented.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How very sad is that? At one point I was charmingly dry, but now I'm just a jerk. So used to being negative that I'm unhappy at this very moment without being able to explain why. Quite pitiful really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me explore a situation for a moment. Recently I attended a banquet. This particular banquet was for instrumental music, an activity that I've very nearly devoted my entire life to for the last seven years. For the longest time it was my pride and joy. After putting everything I had into playing the oboe and supporting the people around me I felt as though it was a large part of who I am. At said banquet, another student was given an award for being the most dedicated member with the most leadership. I applauded along with everyone else, flashing my freshly bleached oh-so-famous customer service smile, and held back tears. One loss though... just one loss, you'd think I'd be able to forget about it. I mean, I'm proud as can be for my peer and could not be happier for him... yet since that award I've yet to have a happy thought. As if that very large part of me was taken away and that part just happened to carry my happiness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heck, maybe I'm just a spoiled bitch. I like to think this is just a shortlived sadness that I will soon get over, but maybe it isn't. Maybe deep down I'm nothing more than a jealous little nothing. I can't get over the fact that I was actually beaten at something. I've always been the best oboe player, the strongest singer, the best actor, the boy with all the awards, president of the club, lead in the show, the one who took first place... Well that piece of shit attitude needs to end right now. It's pretty obvious how quickly all my hard work is forgotten, I can't get used to being put on a pedestal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BAH! There I go again! I'm not even deleting that sentence, there it is! Proof that I'm a cynical jerk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps this "phase" will end eventually... or hey, maybe I'll sit at home alone crying for reasons I can't even explain. Clearly it's been a good time so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2596720297311270225-5644364408505723123?l=outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com/feeds/5644364408505723123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2596720297311270225&amp;postID=5644364408505723123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2596720297311270225/posts/default/5644364408505723123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2596720297311270225/posts/default/5644364408505723123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com/2008/05/cynic-me.html' title='A cynic?... Me?'/><author><name>OutlandishDevelopment</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03081262375012196341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01391344631038853398'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2596720297311270225.post-2543870250051641833</id><published>2008-05-11T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T22:30:13.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first time... The excitment is building</title><content type='html'>The teenage angst was mounting in me tonight, and I felt the sudden urge to release all of my frustrations in life without cutting. I did the only thing I knew would work, and here we are, one blog later. When I say "here we are", I do of course mean "here I am". It would be foolish of me to assume there is, in fact, a "we" involved. Now that we, aka I, have come to the realization that we should refer to me as I and not we or us, let me tell you (or possibly myself if I am the only one to read this) a little bit about myself. The pointlessness of me telling myself about me via blog just hit me, which tells the reader (whoever that may be) a lot about me. I can puzzle over a redundant question brought to my attention by myself for long periods of time before I come to any sort of intellegant conclusion. On that note, often times a conclusion is never even reached. As long as I am discussing (with myself) pointless conundrums, let's discuss my title. Isn't it odd that I was able to sit for the longest time debating whether to even create this blog at all because I couldn't think of an impressive title. Seriously though, why does that matter?Who am I trying to create an impressive title for, the reader? Well, that's stupid, I'm the reader! By even considering the notion that I need to impress someone, am I not contradicting the very nature of a blog? Is a blog not meant to reflect my personal beliefs despite what others may think...? By that logic (or lack thereof), I haven't even earned the privilege of writing this blog. Unfortunately I fully intend to continue writing even if I've angered the Blog Gods or whomever else may be judging me (which very sadly may only be me as previously decided).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm, where to begin, though? Well, I suppose I have begun, but a proper beginning probably should not consist of me talking myself in circles. For those of you who actually give any sort of shit (yes that does mean me) I am many things, some interesting, some not even remotely worth reading. How about facts first, I am male and live in the original dairy state, Wisconsin. By now the reader (me?) has probably come to the assumption that I am a cow-milking farmer hick wearing plaid, but don't be fooled! Large animals scare me, country music is typically shallow, I enjoy thinking, and my plaid collection is fairly minimal. Now for the less concrete aspects of me. Politically I am a democrat and a liberal, quite frequently leaning towards the green party. Mike Gravel was my candidate of choice, but seeing as that won't happen any longer I am completely comfortable with the other two. While I'd prefer Clinton, I have no objections to any democrat outcome. On the otherhand, another republican getting voted in would officially destroy and mutilate any faith I had left for the people of this country and I would pack my bags for Canada the very same day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In addition to strong political beliefs I am a socially liberal, environmentalist, vegetarian, musician, artist, bisexual, atheist. Which is approximately 5 strikes against me in my conservative little town. Where I come from you belong to one of the twelve churches in a six mile area or you don't belong at all. On that note, I am cynical more often then I probably should be, something that will probably become pretty evident through my posting. To be entirely honest, I have no idea what I'll be posting. Probably about things like music, literature, politics, sex, more music... Basically the things I know and a few other things that I could use a little redefining with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahh, well... This has been rather refreshing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2596720297311270225-2543870250051641833?l=outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com/feeds/2543870250051641833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2596720297311270225&amp;postID=2543870250051641833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2596720297311270225/posts/default/2543870250051641833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2596720297311270225/posts/default/2543870250051641833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://outlandishdevelopment.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-first-time-excitment-is-building.html' title='My first time... The excitment is building'/><author><name>OutlandishDevelopment</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03081262375012196341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01391344631038853398'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>