This made me laugh coz I do get cranky and I can’t get stuff done. When I was still a student, I could not study or concentrate if my room was a mess. If I was studying outside, everything needed to be in its place or I just get distracted.
The same is true when I am working–pen holder on the upper left corner of my table, notebook and a single pen on the right side of my laptop, calculator beside the pen holder, hand sanitizer and lotion within reach. Wow. Do I have OCD?
If things are not in order at home, I notice that I’m hot headed. It’s a good thing that arranging and cleaning makes it all go away. HAHA
Besides, cleaning can’t wait in my household–we have 5 dogs (4 pugs and 1 pitbull) and 1 very demanding cat.
I love my life.❤
Some humans (or maybe a lot) are brilliant. And some are brilliant assholes.
I’m thinking about the person who invented drugs and alcohol. Or maybe the person who invented styrofoam. Then there’s religion and agent orange. But I think I would settle with Zyklon B.
Why would I want to un-invent Zyklon B? Why, in the first place, was it invented? Let’s go back 100 (or so) years ago.
Zyklon B (or Cyclone B) originated as a pesticide (really). But why would I want this to be un-invented? Because, my dear readers, this is the same poison used by the Nazis in their gas chamber. And just to add something to the mix, the inventor behind this chemical is Fritz Haber–a
Jewish Christian scientist (he converted to Christianity before WWI).
Fritz Haber was a brilliant scientist. He received a Nobel Prize in Chemistry. He is also considered as the father of chemical warfare. I’m not really a fan.
And if you’re wondering, no, he did not die via the gas chambers. He fled Germany before the Final Solution started–though it was already brewing.
Repercussions for the un-invention of the Zyklon B would probably be death by bullets or really more on the slave camps. This is depressing me.
Possible alternative–the f*ck! No alternative! No mass killings! No genocide! I hate wars. Truly. No one wins a war. EVERYONE LOSES. There are no victors. But we are too stupid to realize this.
And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened.
~ Douglas Coupland
***Yesterday, I mentioned that I will be writing more (and hopefully get better at it) using the writing prompts I got from The Daily Post. Consider this my first entry.***
Surreal experience. I lot of things popped into my mind but I kept validating if it’s really a surreal experience. So I went to Merriam-Webster to check the FULL DEFINITION of the word “surreal”.
“Intense irrational reality of a dream”. Nose bleed. Right there. I had to tick off a lot of the things that were inside my head. But one thing that I could not tick off was when I fell of a cliff during my college days.
I survived. In case you’re wondering.
Here’s my ‘whoa’ story.
During my Physics field trip, we went to a nearby mountain to check boiling points. We were with our professors and students from other sections. I was among my friends and I was having a jolly good time (I’m the clown). Unfortunately, I was (I would like to believe that this is truly in the past, so please, don’t argue) clumsy and I tripped on a rock. I went rolling down the mountain… AND SOME BANANA TREES SAVED ME FROM DEATH! I’m not making this shit up. Despite this, my professor had the balls to say “Look class. That is a free-falling object” and every body laughed. I laughed too when they told me (of course I didn’t hear him say it! I was too busy rolling down the freaking mountain!).
Anyway, when my friends and I talk about that experience, we always laugh. But at the end of that, I am reminded that I am alive because of the banana trees. I didn’t have a knight in shining armor to save me. Heck! I didn’t need one! Nature provided my savior.
The other side of the story is I really died and I’m imagining that I’m writing this from my grave. Hey! We need a horror story–it’s nearly Valentine’s day.