Today, Facebook went public on the Nasdaq

After a full week of CST testing, there was no escaping the news that Facebook went public today.  Unfortunately, I am no longer a member; I’m usually a few years ahead on trends so personally I think it’s the beginning of the end for FB.  People, I think, are just burnt out on sharing too much information.   

I know I am.  What gets me is how FB takes up so much time and mental energy on virtual, inconsequential “friends.” I sort of thought about my past with some fondness; but once I saw the path that many of the people in high school took, it just sort of made me sad to see people’s lives sort of play out into getting old, unfulfilled and full of baggage.  The purity is gone, and I’m wasting my time thinking about it.  That’s enough, so I quit.

Thinking about how I’m going to distribute the book when it’s done

One of the things I love about our modern society is that there are opportunities to distribute artistic accomplishments.   There are a few people who are very successful at it, and they get rich; but let’s face it, that type of success is akin to reading about lottery winners.  It’s very rare, lucky.  However, there is a far great chance at being successful at your own endeavor than winning the lottery.   

I don’t play the lottery.  It makes me sad to walk into a Seven-Eleven spending money hoping to be a mulit-millionaire.  I think it does something to my psyche – to think that I might actually win.   The way I envision success is through some sort of achievement that other people find interesting and useful, and it reaches a threshold to where you can actually quite your full time job, and make a living doing it.  

I like my job, and if I didn’t come here everyday, I’d miss it.  As trying as it may be sometimes, there’s nothing more enjoyable than interacting with kids.  But I have to think about how I’m going to get the book out there, and share it with others.  

This is what I think I might do: 

1) Write the book

2) Blog about writing the book

3) Finish the book

4) Make a trailer about the book

5) Give away the book at first

6) Sell the book for a modest price. ninety-nine cents to 2.99. I don’t know.  

 

The important thing is to find a fulfilling way to spend my free time.  I notice that when I get bored I begin to feel empty, and when I feel empty, I get sad.  When I get sad, well…I’m unhappy.  

In the end the writing is to make me happy and fulfilled.  To have other people read the book would make me even happier and more fulfilled, of course.  I think I can actually do it.  I feel like I can have fun with it, and my writing will help me navigate through the melancholy and emptiness that’s been with me most of my life.  

 

It’s the Littlest Things

Funny thing how a little thing makes you a little bit sad.  This morning,  I discovered a photograph I had printed out with my father and I when he came to visit me in my classroom last year  had been marked on my a pen.  A kid basically scribbled on my face.  I know what class it more than likely came from, and those kids are rascals beyond the time period they should ever be rascals.   They’ll be rascals their whole lives until one day they will be struggling, having a hard day when they will realize how difficult their  lives are all of a sudden because they chose to fight developing themselves as individuals in a highly competitive world.  

The moment I saw my face crossed out I knew it was the action of one individual, probably a student who interrupts the class a lot, is disrespectful to others, and I’ve probably met on contacted their parents several times to discuss their behavior.   Students dislike this very much because it creates a stressful situation for them at home, and it also bleeds out to a moment where they’re looking at my face, and they just want to scribble on it.  

That’s how they empowere themselves.  They deface my image, like others do with the American flag.  Yeah, it bums me out a bit, I think about it, but  it’s one  of the little things we have to put up with as teachers who are forced to be disciplinarians in order to create a healthy learning environment.  The less the parents do the more work we have to do .  I just want to teach.  I don’t want discipline – call parents, send to the Dean’s office, suspend, any of that.  I just want to  be allowed to teach, and in an urban setting today that means being part-cop – just to keep eighty percent of the kids safe from twenty percent of the kids. 

Genesis of a Middle School Teacher’s Blog

After school today, I went to the Coffee Bean because I was so exhausted from a day of dealing with middle school girls and trying to avoid teachers and administrators.  I think I walk around afraid now of talking to anyone.  I have this anxiety that my life has come down to being the ultimate in mediocrity.  Some days when we have long meetings I feel like I’m rotting myself to sleep.  I put on my sunglasses in case I fade out, hoping I don’t snore or lean into the teacher sitting next to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I have the best job in the world when I’m teaching and learning; but when you work in a place that utterly defies logic and common sense, you have to give up faith in a religion some people call “thinking.”  If you try to get others to think a little, they’ll think you’re trying to be different, and they’ll get revenge on you in little ways you’ll never be aware of until it’s too late.  They’ve already “fucked” you over and the feeble-minded have drank the Kool-Aid.  It’s the biggest bullshit in the world, really.

But let’s face it – there are much worse things going on in the world than having to observe how jacked up the educational system is in Los Angeles.  Today on NPR I heard that Buddhist monks burned themselves alive in China to protest.  They must’ve had it real bad to do that.  Even though I think about suicide sometimes, I don’t take it seriously because I have a family now, and being there for them supersedes everything.  I forget about myself when I think about my family.  I forget about how painful it is to live sometimes, how lonely I am sometimes, how bored.  Being creative, expressing myself is all I really have to pepper meaning into my life.

Thus, I have this blog as a side note to the novel I am writing called “Hot Cheeto Stains.”  I’m not using my real name, of course.  Not only is it a little cumbersome, but if I used my real name I’d be writing with restraint and a bit of fear.  Honesty is frequently misunderstood.  People minds are mush, they’re polluted, repressed, afraid, insecure and totally lacking empathy and understanding.  People are eff’d up in so many ways, it pains me to remind myself of how people so willingly want to misunderstand the world around them.  There’s so few aspiring sages out there.  It takes knowing so much to realize you know so little…and so many know so little they don’t realize just how very little they actually know.

Writing is procrastination, and sometimes I have trouble concentrating.  When I can’t concentrate on my narrative, I will write here.  In that sense, the novel and this journal will be companion narratives.   No one will read this, but in the slight chance that anyone does indeed read it I want to apologize for what probably comes across as a negative attitude.   I mostly write when I’m upset or sad, and I am trying cleanse myself.   You won’t hear much from me on the good days, but thank you for reading this…and welcome.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,