It's known to a few people that actually know me, or has indeed come face to face to me, and have a deeper conversation, that I'm almost what you could call, an "imported person" - not only on the fact that I'm quite crazy, almost a walking lunatic, but nowadays quite soothed and serene, thanks to so may drugs - legal ones folks, remember, LEGAL ones, even though they are strictly controlled by pharmacies. I've already told here befre - I'm done with the illegal psychotropics I once so dearly loved to take. No more of that, and it's been great for me, I must say, because that shit was indeed fucking up everything. No, nowadays, I take these drugs - drugs for mental patients like myself or my Owner and Boss, the Heir himself, who's giving me access to this MORE than expensive doctor I'm being treated with.
But that doesn't change the fact that I'm sometimes borderline wacko, batshit crazy or whatever you want to call me. If someone could have a looke inside my brain, or had access to the dreams I am experiencing these days, they'd have to concur with the fact that I'm somewhat crazy. Just the fact that I almost have no friends anymore can sum up to that fact. No one can tollerate me for too long, or so I've gathered.
I'm not on any kind of allucinogenics or psychotropics or what the fuck all those people are doing nowadays, I dunno. But I do have this crazy imagination, and sometimes, it's the only thing that's been holding me together, even as strange as it may sound. Just the fact that I willingly chose to keep my head shaved, like a neo-nazy freak, but also sporting these old-fashioned handlebars whiskers on my face, you know straight away, this is not your ordinary Joe. This is something else. This guy is crazy, must be the thought of many of them people I get weird looks on the streets.
Frankly, I don't give a fuck. I chose this weird look ...well, because. The almost bald look gave me an advantage on these fucking hot days we've been experiencing, because I sweat profusely on my scalp, and have it shaved makes it easier for me to bear with the sweat. The handlebars, well, that's another story. I just let them grow, to see if I could have a full beard instead of looking Amish, but my whiskers have a mind of their own, if I may say so - they naturally grow UPWARDS instead of going towards the ground, so, what the fuck, may as well twist them a bit, and get this old-fashioned look. I find it neat too. And the people who think I'm sporting handlebars to try to be fucking hipster, can go fuck themselves. I don't care. In fact, it really amuses me, how they look at me, sometimes terrified, at this whole setup on my face and head. Besides, having this shaved head can soothe me sometimes. I just rub my hands through my scalp, it feels like I'm petting a dog, or something. Even my little niece liked to "pet" me.
But I digress. I was talking about my crazy imagination, the only thing that sometimes help me to keep it together, as strange as it my sound, because it's my imagination that keeps Gideon a live pet, not only a masterfully carved piece of lifeless wood. And throughout times like these, where all my REAL friends have all vanished or are too busy with their wives, kids, careers or whatnot, to come and pay me a visit, or just write me something, I've got to keep it together on my own, and sometimes it's a fucking hard affair to deal with. I know, I know, what most people would say - just join that thing - facebook.
But I've already explained why I refuse to experience that shit once again. I've seen what can it do to a person, a once close friend of mine. They've destroyed his whole life in a matter of days, and months ago, they've achieved their final, twisted goal: they got him expelled of his university, and not only that, he has no longer the legal rights to even try to enter another public university, nor the so-called privilege of even trying to enter one of those "dream jobs" of the mnajority of brazillian slobs - the public, governement-funded jobs. Yes. He can NEVER try one of those "concursos" - not that I would recommend that fucking shit to anyone, but, anyway, he was planning to, after he got graduated at Law School. But - bam - facebook destroyed all of his dreams. And, in my opinion, somewhat drove him a little crazy. I'm not getting into details, because I don't want to anyone to destroy even further his already destroyed image. But it messed him up.
So, no. I'm not joining a piece of shit "social" network, where people only post inane, stupid things, selfies, photos of sluts doing "duckfaces", people collectin "friends" like they were commodities, like a fucking competition, or whatever the hell they are thinking adding this guy, that girl, that onther guy, mostly people you'll never meet, or even talk to. THAT is batshit crazy, to me.
I've recently acquired a slightly better smartphone, a little outdated to today's standars, but nonetheless quite a fantastic piece of technology, I must admit. I am signed to that other trendy application, or "app", to sound more "hip", Whatsapp. That Google so smartly acquired, just to keep people hooked on a free year, and then paying a somewhat insignificant amount of money to use it for another year - but if you add up ALL of its users, now that a SHITLOAD of money to our future overlords. Because that's what Google will be. Our overlords. The Beatles, or more specifically Jphn Lennon, once said the controversial saying, "we're more popular than Jesus."
Google is WAY more popular to ALL deities that people on this planet worships. You can't deny that. No one can. I DARE you to prove me wrong. You cannot. No one can.
And to thought, that it all began with this device:
Yes- I have one of the original phones, in my attic. An heirloom from my late grandfather. It's missing some parts, and it 's got its cord somewhat chewed up by time, but it only shows how OLD this thing is. A long way away from this:
NOW this one a lot of people will remember. A fucking rotary phone, at least those of us old enough to have lived through the 80s and 90s. And it's a "modern" version of similar ones used through the 40s, 50s, and so on. This one is at least 20 years old. And then, more time passed, and we got these fuckers:
Who doesn't remember these? The so-called "unbreakables"? Because, if they fell to the ground, instead of breaking the screen, it would break the fucking GROUND itself? I've used the one to the right for quite a long time. And I've got lots of other examples, like the famed "Startac" from Motorola, but I don't know where they are. I'm keeping a small museum of old things, like one of the first digital cameras ever, that saved its images on a fucking floppy disk. And it still works! I've tested it the other day...My grandfather was a keeper of such things himself - for example, the first photo here displayed. The original phone. And all these photos were taken using my "outdated" Galaxy SIII phone. That will be include in my "museum", if I survive long enough.
You know what's missing on our handheld computers we call phones nowadays? Teleportation. We should have that, by now. But I'm pretty sure they will be a standard feature to future generations. While "keepers of the past" like myself will be nearly dead, I suppose. But I guarantee, it WILL happen - that is, if humanity doesn't destroy itself on whatever future war we hope does not come.
Well, this post has gone off the rails. I have a whole different idea for it, but nonetheless, there you have it - a trip to the past, and present, and a glimpse into the future as I see it.
Teleportation! We demand teleportation!
And that's it for this lonely, rainy Saturday...
