My mind, my thoughts, my words, my voice, my self.

Names are super important to me. Because through names, we understand or learn to understand things. Object Relationship Entity model. I think. I dunno.

Thats something I remember maybe when I was trying to look up data-banks. It was something I was reading about to help me understand how memories are formed, filed, stored and retrieved in the brain.

Why? I dunno. That’s just part of that thing that I do. Fucking… “6 degrees of Kevin Bacon” my whole life. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Whatever. Google it if you want. Because I know no one wants to pay for what they can get for free. It’s just a matter of whatever is easier for you to do. Hey, I’m all about doing what’s easiest for me!

Anyway. Names. Lots of names. They’re just nouns. FFS don’t they teach you anything at school?! I’m a high school teacher, I know what they teach at my school… or rather, I know the program and units I need to teach for that particular KLA, for that particular STAGE, at which particular LEVEL, adjusted and modified continuously to accommodate the various specific needs of the individual students who may make up that particular CLASS.

Like.. holy mother fucking guacamole. But not only that, everything just be recorded, written down, signed off, whatever whatever ADMINISTRATIVE shit. Because you have to “protect yourself” because:

  • there are totally parents who want you to raise and discipline their kids for them
  • There are parents who think their kid is a fucking angel and will raise hells bells if you so much as infer otherwise
  • There are kids who don’t fucking get it, they think they’re so tough when they’re surrounded by their friends, but to call them out as one individual in a room of 24, that “its not fair. Rah rah rah. I wasn’t the only one”
  • So you call home. Because maybe you didn’t remember every single fucking thing everyone did, but you remember the kids who decided they were going to leave the classroom via the window. Mother fuckers.
  • “Why am I the only one in trouble? You swore at me. I’m going to tell everyone what you said.” — I asked what I said because I didn’t remember. The kid told me I said “what the fuck are you doing?” I asked him what he was doing when I asked that… he said “I was drilling a hole in the table”
  • Hahaha. Yeah go ahead mate. Tell everyone I swore at you. And i can say why I swore at you. But I was more swearing about what you were doing, not you as a friggen person. And you jumped out of my window. And the head teacher saw it. And you have the gall to think you can say or do whatever?

I don’t back down. I dunno. I am stubborn, I am relentless. I am also lazy and don’t give a fuck about most things.

Uuuugggvgbbbbhhhhhjhh

Pressing effing buttons and shit.

I am just filled with so many words. And memories. And ideas. And names. And places. And things. And descriptions. And feelings. And actions. And ITS JUST ALL FUCKING LANGUAGE. LINGUISTICS. IMAGERY. ASSOCIATIONS. NUMERALS. SYMBOLS. WHATEVER THE HECK.

It’s just shit and stuff and crap and figurative whatever. Figurative language techniques. I filter that shit and teach you shit. If you fuck yourself up from whatever you think you glean from my words? That’s all on you.