Monthly Archives: June 2016

Fighting jealousy

I have tried to fight it over and over, all for naught. I am caught in a wave, a wave that oscillates between total confidence and utter despair. I wrestle against my own existence, and a byproduct of that is jealousy.

In my mind there have always existed two conflicting philosophies regarding the world. The first one is that in this world of 7 billion humans, you are an ant. You might be extremely intelligent, but there are hundreds of people out there ready to outsmart you. You are also just a toothpick; you could die in a car crash tomorrow. The second perspective is that there is absolutely nobody in the world who can entirely relate with your experiences, desires, and accomplishments. The former is essentially the insignificance of the individual in society, and the latter is the significance of the individual in identity. Which one is more important, then: society, or identity?

Today I was yelled at, along with some others, for not remaining in the “designated” space for lunch time, even though we were in visible range of it. The director talked to us saying “Yes, I know, you don’t need personal escorts to go wherever, because some of you are 16, 17, or 18, but your safety falls on our shoulders.” This is essentially the extension of the word “safety” beyond the realm of logic and reasoning, because of a capitalist-driven legal system that incentivizes frivolous lawsuits for any or no reason, as long as the plaintiff has the money.

People nowadays are not expected to understand common sense until the age of 18, apparently. And even after that, people still scratch their heads at the notion of using one’s own brain as a platform for decision-making. People apparently do not know or expect to be responsible for their themselves and their own actions except when they are repeatedly instructed to do so.

Now Anticept tells me that a forum getting hacked is nothing. Just shrug it off. What has the world come to? If your house catches on fire, will you not care about its value? He is essentially discounting the value of his website. One could say that since he cares so little, anyone could take over. But alas, it is the way of the developer, with a naturally inflated ego.

Sometimes I believe I am only worthy of existing as an ant in this world. Other times, I look up at where other people have landed.

I feel impure; corrupted. My conscious and subconscious are no longer clearly distinguishable from each other. The only delineating factor is that the conscious remains to be the only rational part of my brain, the only one that correctly walks through neurons, while the subconscious treads over completely unrelated, nonsensical ideas in the blink of an eye. It also seems to arouse the same subliminal messages every time it is triggered before sleep.

Jealousy

If you’re wondering why I’ve kept complaining up to now, it’s really come down to one thing now: jealousy. Not self-esteem, but a jealousy that leads to insecurity.

If you didn’t know, jealousy is a sin. Instead of me wanting something to enjoy it, I’m wanting something to match or be better than someone else. This is not the mentality I was expecting, yet I feel it every day. A nine-year-old kid already with a million subscribers on YouTube; a Korean just as old as me becoming a heavy contributor to FOSS communities; and many, many more who have accomplished far more than me in the exact same time period. How do I match up to them?

The truth is that I can’t and I never will. So why do I bother? I bother because I have the mental capability and desire to bother. The truth is that success is a mix of chance and genuine motivation. It’s chance because you need the right people, the people who encourage you every step of the way, and genuine motivation because it requires a level of faith and dedication. I don’t really have either of them.

Nobody really understands what I want. Or if they do, they are stumped as to how to help me. My teachers acknowledge I am gifted; but their acknowledgment extends no further than a mere hopelessness that I am confined to the system. I might know everything already, but I remain confined, confined to societal expectations, confined to my age, confined to myself.

On one side, I am taught an NSA-funded curriculum, a curriculum which I admit to being mostly incorrect and unlikely to prepare one into the field except with minimum exposure; on the other hand, the bare minimum basics of Python, which takes me less than 5 minutes to write a simple program whereas it could take 30 minutes for some people; then the third, which involves a $1,000 software being touted about like a kid’s toy that I think could be stripped down into a simpler, open-source version.

I feel as if there was a course of action that I was supposed to have taken in the distant past that could have led me to a far more enjoyable present. I feel guilty because I pretend I’m enjoying being in this summer program but I’m not; the director attempts to flatter us every year. I am not quite certain they understand the true power of a cluster of highly intelligent people.

Renewal

It’s been some time since I’ve posted anything positive on this blog, so I will take the time to do so now.

I remember when the house I currently lived in was built, and when I chose my room, and when I looked out the windows and saw the soft white cumulus clouds in abundance, that August right before school began.

I remember when I played Shadow of the Colossus with my uncle. I remember those weeks when I didn’t have a house at all because it was still being negotiated for, and instead I played Tekken on the projector in his house.

There’s nothing really stopping me from doing anything. The barriers I have in my mind are purely virtual. But what I have to do, I must do for fun, not because I want to get to a good college.

I didn’t grow up playing any musical instrument. It’s a life mistake not wanting to, but so what? I was not bound to being recognized for being proficient at a relatively conservative trade. What I want to research simply does not exist, and the crowd I want to surround myself with is far from home.

I don’t compare myself with others anymore. There are people definitely better than me; but with other interests.

My mind is rather fragmented right now. I try to keep my content quality to an utmost high, but it’s rather difficult when I keep getting distracted by other things.

Tomorrow I’ll go and see if anyone is interested working with me to see if making a water-condensing windmill is something possible. I believe that with the correct design, it’ll be an effective tool to gather power to generate a bit of water.

I’m also considering switching back to Python. I think people look down on people who use Python because it’s a language that is used by kids, and the language appears too simple and lacks substantial control for anything bigger than shell scripts and some math. I think the language has potential, but there are different paradigms that one must become accustomed to before diving in, as it is a bit of a step-down from a powerful language like C++ or C#. Unlike those languages, Python surprisingly encourages one to have clean code and worry later about performance, since one can always choose a different runtime (i.e. Cython) if performance is truly an essential requirement.

I’ve truly missed a great deal of potential over the years. I could have joined organizations, taken courses, competed. My only justification is that the world is too big and I am too small. I am not old enough to drive wherever I want and pay for whatever I need. My parents claim I should not worry about these things, but I insist that I must not spend freely since it’s their money, not mine.

What can I do now? I can still compete; but I do not think it will be something world-class. Perhaps. I don’t know where I’ll be in the next six months.

At an impasse

I realize that nobody’s going to fix my problems for me.

The world has changed plenty in seven years. Back then, things like Node.js, a strong support for Python, programming organizations for kids, even mainstream dubstep, were nonexistent. I have finally reached the point of no return, the point in which the world has changed sufficiently enough so that one can never life their old life again. It is 2016 and we are infinitesimally close to discovering a cure for Alzheimer’s and cancer, and simultaneously at the climax of civilization: any awry move can lead to ultimate annihilation. On top of that, antibiotics are rapidly losing their effectiveness in a return to a dangerous world of lethal infections. The stakes are increasing; it is like fighting a level 100 boss using a level 99 character, with ridiculously scaled damage outputs and health for either side. Soon, mankind will pass its own threshold, the point in which in order to survive it must modify itself irreversibly.

Once again I feel like I have no time to do anything. There are truly countless number of things I could be doing right now, but currently I seem to opt for “none of the above.” I don’t know why. I’ve got to get myself fixed; the mood swings are killing me. I must become productive again.

I hate comparing myself to others because I know that there are people who are better than me at many things.

Even the WikiProject Video games icon has been changed to something desirable by the millennials.

LET ME THRIVE

Mistakes

Today is my second day at the engineering program (it’s the last summer) and I have realized I have made yet another huge mistake.

I’m not going to tell you what the engineering program is by name nor by place, but I will tell you that it is a four-year spiel where everyone, as always, works for the rewards at the peak of the program (i.e. the fourth and last year). But hey, newsflash, the rewards at the top aren’t that great as you thought them to be. What you imagined would happen was, you’d garner enough contacts and partners to go and get an internship anywhere you wanted. But this is not the case. Instead you get packed with 120 other kids in what is basically yet another summer camp. Oh yeah, they’re going to tenth and eleven grade! Wow! Where am I going? Twelfth grade..

The last thing I want to do for my last summer before I go to college to god-knows-where is being stuck for six weeks at some “prestigious” engineering program at some local college, with classes that are somewhat localized and rather advanced in the computer field, but hey guess what, I’m pretty good at them already. I know quite a lot about cybersecurity, since I had to do CP and I’ve had to secure this whole server along with the router and network. And of course computer science. I know how to use Python, come on! Show me about min-max heaps already! Then there’s some class called “dynamic systems modeling” which is actually a highly advanced concept, but the instructor, who is actually one of the few highly respectable people in the program, tries to bring it down to layman’s terms.

The program holistically wastes time and money with logistics, like buying craptons of laptops and Raspberry Pi kits. Where they got money from all of that remains unbeknownst to me, although my guesses are the NSA (since they have quite the presence in my city) or the college itself.

But it’s just horrible for me to realize that all this effort that could have been dedicated to other, more productive tasks has been partly wasted. I’m still being treated like a kid, when at this age I could be getting some professional, on-the-job experience like I would expect. And the level of engagement that I’m expected to have with my “superiors” is mostly unproductive; one moment, there is nothing to do, and another, we are told to get up and leave, make two straight lines, hurry it up, and be quiet. Ugh. The only way I have a standing in the class is because I myself am highly respectable in my competence and demeanor.

And then the computer science teacher talks to me as if I knew nothing. He dictates instructions very carefully, although thankfully not to the point of paranoia. (He erroneously referred to bash as the “Linux programming language in the terminal”.) When there is body contact between me and him, something between us signals some kind of message that implies that I possess far greater knowledge about computing than he could ever attain. This is not ego talking; this is the truth. I don’t know why I’m in this program if I clearly know more about these subjects than anyone else. I’m clearly wasting my time.

While I was driving to the college, my dad proceeded on to tell me that I complain about everything, that praying is important to have more patience and calm. I have no objections to either statement.

I feel like I am dying on the inside; a sort of mental necrosis. I have much, much more to learn, but when will I apply what I already know? Where are my friends? Where are they? I can’t find them. Where are the hardware projects I should have worked on years ago? Why did I take some crappy throwaway elective when I could have taken a highly productive chemistry class last year? My parents do not understand the magnitude of my problems. They find the tiny holes on the surface, but they have not discovered the massive abyss under the ground. Soon it will all collapse and everyone will know my problems. There will be no turning back on my failure.

I want to start over

I’ve felt like I’ve wasted my life up to this point. I want to start over. In order for me to go any higher, I need some prerequisites, but prerequisites which I have not met and require an extensive amount of time to fulfill.

People tell me to just be happy with my life as it is and be satisfied with what I have in the present. But how can I be happy with my life if I’m not? My teeth and tongue reflexes are messed up because my parents bottle fed me until I was five. I have to shave every day now, and you know I wish I could just tear off the hair from my skin. My brother teases me and everyone laughs. Then my mom looks at me and mocks my frowning face.

Once my classmates thought I was going to be the next Bill Gates. Bollocks. Look where I am. I want to be extraordinary but found nobody who has wanted to help me get there. There are kids YOUNGER THAN ME who have gotten much farther in life than I have.

I want to start over and do it all right.

I’m not going to get to MIT. It is officially impossible now. Have I won some national competition representing my country? No. Have I finished the windmill project I’ve been promising to myself? No. Have I finished all my driving hours? No. Am I still apathetic to my brother and to the rest of my family? Yeah.

What significant accomplishments have I made in the past year?
None, except an acute bout of depression.

What do you love doing?
Coding.

How do you feel your abilities have contributed to society?
I helped my brother.

How do you think you’ll fit in?
I’ll love it, if I ever get there.

How would you rate yourself?
0/10, no enthusiasm.

Why do you hate yourself so much?
Because I failed myself and put myself in a hole I can’t get out of.

For the past week, I’ve been deadlocked. I open up Visual Studio, open LameBoy.vsproj and look at CPU/OpcodeTable.cs. I just look at it and see what needs work.

Last week I was supposed to have aced the SAT subject tests but I didn’t do so well on them.

I’m delusional. I’m absolutely delusional thinking I could go to one of the world’s best research universities for simply having passion. And I put my entire life ahead of me thinking, “Hey, I’ll go to MIT and become successful!” No. Becoming successful comes first, then that type of college comes as a reward for one’s life success.

And since I had this image of my life all messed up, I just want to start all over again. I regret the decisions I made in my life and now I want to start over.

The problem is that I can’t start over. I’d go to hell if I tried. Then you ask, why do I cling onto my delusions and dreams of grandeur? Because I still feel as if those dreams are still achievable. Or, if they aren’t now, they used to be perfectly achievable.

I don’t like my life. My mother scolds me for staying on the computer too long, and what am I to do? I can’t drive to my friend’s house. I don’t have money to go and order FPGAs on Amazon. And it’s too late to change my course.

Now for the rest of my life I’ll be just another Texas kid. I don’t want to make my own crappy startup company or use Angular.js or Rails to make some crappy website. Sucks. I want to be an innovator, someone who works with cool people to make cool stuff that’s often thought to be impossible. And how am I going to get there and prove my worth now? Huh?

I’m not ready to give you the magic word. It’s magic because it evokes an automatic response in today’s society. I am holding something back because it will cause an instant knee-jerk reaction.

My dad fails to accept my need for professional help. My brother already has clinical depression. Now I’m next, but my dad doesn’t want another financial burden. I wish I could just make the appointment myself.

Have you not noticed that my vocabulary has gradually deteriorated? I am not exactly sure why; perhaps my brain finds it a rather unnecessary weight. Just another omen of my demise.

Locked

I feel locked away from the world. In my imaginary shackles, I look out the window and see the wonderful thing that is nature, the trees, the clouds. But I cannot go out and touch it. It is fenced, the only way to look at it being by simply witnessing it while driving; that is, at the right place at the right time.

On the Internet, we see the famous and popular. We see people speaking their honesty out in TED with ideas that shape the world. We see the creators. We see the beautiful.

What is the point of receiving if I cannot give back? What is the point of enjoying nature if I cannot go back and enjoy it a bit more and tell people to enjoy nature for themselves? What is the point of listening to some guy about how he designed tiny, livable European apartments if I cannot be inspired and give back something myself? I think myself to be an untouchable of the earth. I am not very different from the real untouchables that I see around me, the smokers and the criminals, if neither they nor I seem to be able to appreciate life.

Months I have been waiting for a comment on my blog. Anything. Any word from anyone (as long as it’s not spam). No dice.

I wasted my time yesterday at my uncle’s house. Incredible how antisocial I acted. At lunchtime I seemed so bored and rather sad that even one of the cousins asked, “Why do you look so tired?” I didn’t want to give an honest answer, so I just said, “Because I am.”

By this morning, my dad asked, “How was your stay?” My brother didn’t want to reply, I’m guessing he found the visit rather boring, which obviously shows that he is becoming introverted like me. LIKE ME.

I don’t want to influence my brother! That’s why I stay away from him. I don’t want him to become yet another victim of the Internet. And I don’t want him to influence me either, with his ominous short moans, with his insistence to look up while praying.

I am not pleased with my family. I don’t fit in. Every time I open my mouth, somebody either (a) shuts me up, (b) corrects my Spanish, (c) tells me I sound incoherent, or (d) decides to ignore me. There is nowhere to go and nobody for me to talk to right now. I want to drive to the junkyard and get some A/C parts? Nope. Nobody wants to drive me there. I want to talk to a friend? Nope. They’re all at camp, with their families, or something equally fun or time consuming. Me? On the computer with nothing to do. Every social event for me degenerates to just that. Oh look nobody has anything in common with me, what a surprise. Dad when are we leaving. Yay get back on the computer.

And my dad still doesn’t recognize that I need counseling! He says, “Oh it’s just a habit of his.” It’s a habit because there is no alternative. My family is all a bunch of judges. They judge when somebody does something weird, judge when they’re stubborn, judge when there’s something wrong with them. Someone’s business turns into everyone’s business. And then before you know it, I have my brother’s eyes locked on to mine. Did you know he enjoys talking more about me than about himself? If I disappeared, there wouldn’t be anything for him to do. He’d “disappear” along with me. I have not gone a single day of this month without thinking about “disappearing.” Yesterday it was in my mind for almost the entire day.

I am now a slave to technology, with its benefits and detriments. The benefits are that I’m a power user and know how to do whatever I want. The disadvantages are that my parents keep making compromises behind my back with parish friends since I’m so “competent” in what I do. Now I’m signed up for a radio station every Thursday along with some other kid without even my own consent.¬†What’s the point of me being there if he’s doing all the work? I told my dad I was not volunteering in the station until they explained to me all the equipment and why the heck they adopt such an inefficient workflow. And here I am, now morally obligated to be driven to some near-broke Catholic radio station. Locked into something I never asked for.

This Monday I start my last summer of my engineering program. I assure you it will be the same ol’, same ol’. Or, you know, I’ll rek everyone in cybersecurity and they’ll kick me out for knowing everything already. Or become an intern at Rackspace, I don’t really know at this point. Or absolutely nothing will happen, just like every summer. Talk about continuity. I wish something would happen that would let me do something.

A semantically useless life

I am currently unstable. There are people better than me in this world and who are just as old as me. Way, way better than me. People who can drive. People who can afford. People who can enjoy and smile. People who actually deserve to go to prestigious colleges and enjoy computer heaven.

The ancients talk about “level 2 happiness” which connotes to success and accomplishments. Many people live to pursue such happiness, and when it is fulfilled such people turn to drugs and sex to satiate their happiness, and when they do not reach the success and accomplishment they wanted, they feel as if their life is purposeless.

I want to meet more people. I want to meet people better than me. In person. But they seem untouchable. Today my brain had an increase in beta waves due to my excursion to the office and a dentist appointment. Usually I hate going to the dentist, but today it was all right. I met people; there was something new I found in the world.

I feel condemned, because I have condemned myself.

I hate these mood swings. I wake up feeling hopeful for the day, and I go to bed dreading my life. Why can’t I reflect on anything positive that’s happened today?

Every time I hear of someone on the giving rather than the receiving end of innovation and intelligent thinking, I frustrate myself. A bunch of kids like me have gone up and talked on TED. What separates me and them?

  • Background. Due to culture, first-generation East Asian kids tend to be extremely competitive.
  • Parents. Practice practice practice. Here, let me help you with that. I’ll look that up for you.
  • Friends. Hey, you mind giving me a ride home?
  • Placement. Look a school for gifted kids just around the corner. Let’s just completely bypass public education.
  • Money. I’ll buy you all the prep books you need, son. (Or, alternatively: I’m broke… but I’m the best in south side.)
  • Circumstance. I’ve lost so much in my life… my dog… my cat… my brother from cancer… my parents from a car wreck… my grandparents are a couple thousand miles away…

I’ve already told you about all of these things:

  • Background: I grew up on this island where almost nobody knows how to use a computer.
  • Parents: They’re not engineers. Just doctors and lawyers.
  • Friends: None that I really know.
  • Placement: Bureaucracy has historically weighted me down. Example: I didn’t get into GT math but I got into GT english.
  • Money: A bunch of it, but none that I can directly use.
  • Circumstance: I’ve lost nothing. Then again I don’t have much going for me.

I don’t feel alive. The Internet killed me. I feel like I am the scum of the earth.

All the love that I have felt, I feel as if it is not true love but rather fabricated love. My parents must love me because I am their son, and my brother “loves” me because I am his brother. The driving force is inheritance. On retreats, I paid to get into the action, so the adults must keep me in the group. The driving force is money and purpose. My classmates find me an indispensable aid to them. Driving force: my unlimited knowledge for homework help. They think I’m a tool, a slave to school. And in a way look at me. It’s been hardly a week since school ended and I act like I have no soul. Maybe I am a tool and a soulless slave to school. In all of these scenarios, there is no free will involved. They do not voluntarily choose to love me, they have to love me because of traditional values, purpose, or necessity. Then my parents tell me, “But God loves you!” That I cannot disagree with. But that’s just calling me to a holier life because I have no friends. It’s a way of justifying my lack of friends: “Oh I have a close relationship with just one person, God.”

If my life ends tomorrow, surely I will go to hell. Hell is a horrible place where people suffer for eternity. My fear of being scum of the earth suddenly turns into reality. But I know it will not. I will live on. I’ll keep ranting. You’ll keep hearing my crap on IRC. It’s better than dying.

And then what?

What do I do after I keep living? Try and fix everything piece by piece? Then I’ll be alive but so low I’ll never be successful and influence people and help the world.

That’s all I’m here for. Help the world and the next humans and go to heaven. And if I can’t do that, there is no purpose in me living.

People aren’t helping me. People keep saying “you need to accomplish X many things in order for us to consider you”. Bunk. Oh it’s not personal? Excuse me.

I don’t like being a man. I guess that’s why I have to pair up with a woman instead of trying to act like or become one.

I haven’t visited a psychologist yet. I wonder when my dad will make an appointment. Probably never. What a shame.

You know, if I had a TI-84 Plus CE right now, I’d probably have ported MicroPython by now…

Next week somebody will find out about my website. There will be severe repercussions.

I WANT TO CODE BUT PEOPLE KEEP TRAMPING OVER MY WORK AND THERE ARE PEOPLE BETTER THAN ME WHO DO NOT WANT TO HELP THEY ONLY WANT TO DESTROY OTHERS’ CREATIONS AND REBUILD IT THEMSELVES AND WHEN THEY BUILD IT THEMSELVES THEY GAIN EGO AND WHEN THEY GAIN EGO THEY BECOME MORE REPUTABLE AND CREDIBLE AND THEY BECOME SUCCESSFUL AND THEY MAKE AND THEY MAKE AND SOON THERE IS A SEPARATION BETWEEN THE CODERS AND THE THINKERS it’s the millenials the MILLENIALS the new generation doesn’t want to work THEY WANT TO LEAD where will I go where will I go I WANT TO STUDY SOMETHING THAT DOESN’T EXIST

Stress, part 2

I was rummaging through the university folder in my email when I found a new issue of the MIT newsletter, and it started talking about prospective applicants, i.e. those becoming seniors. Uh oh, that’s me. It’s my turn now.

After a few minutes of reading, this put me extremely nervous. My irrational, swinging subconscious suddenly met my rational, moderated conscious, and my brain quaked and a pang of fear came about. I cannot seem to internalize my accomplishments and then express them. Then again, despite all my timidness, I think the admissions officers will like me. First, I don’t care about success. I care about solving problems. I don’t glorify myself in a bath of sanctity, I humble myself and try to convince you that I am a failure and I deserve to be one. And then again, accomplishments and connections are what get you in.

I don’t want my life to hang on the thread of college admissions, I really do not. But there is no equal. My future is completely unknown to me; this is just a dream to me. My classmates are confident I will become extremely successful. I told you I don’t care about success and rich and fame. But I will work days and nights to answer a question.

Come on. I don’t want to drown myself in stress. I want to be productive again. Come on…

Bad coding practices

When I went to SE.Programmers to explain my troubles in LameBoy, I thought a clear path could be provided, boom here’s what I would advise you, done, and I’ll just keep going with the project following that advice. But instead of having a moral gain, receiving some encouragement, I’m given conflicting advice:

  • There’s no due date, so you should just take your time and rewrite. Consider it a “learning experience.”
  • Don’t rewrite, it’s a waste of time. Just finish it and then refactor in 2.0.
  • Bring it down to smaller goals.

And of course, my favorite piece of advice that was never actually given:

  • Why the f**k are you writing an emulator? Sheesh man you’re only a high school kid, you say you “don’t have a lot of time” so I would suggest you just abandon the project and think about your life. Maybe do some hello world while you’re at it. Oh yeah you want some time? How about you drop out of high school? Anyway, that problem doesn’t sound fatal, it just sounds like you’re butthurt. Why don’t you read this book and READ IT TO THE WORD and tell us when you’re done. Otherwise we will not be helping you anymore. Why don’t you work on sizable projects next time like the rest of us. As for your friend, tell him to start cooperating or kick him out. I doubt you know as much as you think.

The internet folks know everything. Please, never ask internet for advice, they’ll end up interrogating you for it and picking every word apart. Talk about apathy. They tell me “oh why don’t you learn not to take it personally?” Well, how am I supposed to not take it personally if personal matters affect my attitude and progress toward the project?

Consulting SE.Programmers doesn’t give me friends. I wish I knew somebody just as good as me or better at coding. But I can’t find them except on the Internet. Why….?!??

The battle is all in my head. My brother has dug himself inside my head and seems to be controlling my thought. Every time I think of something, I hear his voice.


Unfortunately, the WordPress format does not allow for microblogging, so I cannot tell you what I am thinking of every hour. But right now I’m reading a BBC article on Gaokao, basically the Chinese SAT except even higher stakes. No wonder people kill themselves. If a test can control your future, don’t you feel trapped? And the pervasive censorship and the billions and billions of people front and behind you just make matters worse. And for so long, people have been limited from leaving China. Only the best could leave. And now they are pouring in to fill America and other countries, with the same mentality that they have to press through hundreds of millions of people. Segregating them is bad because it takes away America as their alternative; they’ll find conditions just as bad here. Placing them in the same competition as us is also bad because they often hoard trophies as a collective ethnic group. They set standards for competition far greater than what is necessary simply due to their culture. Fortunately, I don’t live in China, I live in America.

The Pushbullet notifications keep rolling in from Stack Exchange. It’s like a milder form of harassment that pops up every 5 minutes.

It’s all just a self-esteem problem. I swear, my brother will ask me for my IP address, he’ll accidentally put it in his browser and click on the “blog” button for curiosity. Oh yeah he’ll open up Pandora’s box, the can of worms. He won’t know what he’ll expect. And he’ll read it for 30 seconds, slam his headset on his desk, motion my dad over to read it, he’ll take off his glasses, wipe it, and read it. And then 30 seconds later he’ll call me and ask me, “What is this?” And then I will weep. Then my mother will ask what is wrong. Then they will ask me to take it down. And I will refuse. They will cite the predators. I don’t care about the predators, I keep my distance well. And I have not produced any personal information in this blog. All you know is that I have a couple of “friends” and that I’m going to 12th grade. You won’t find any addresses here, and hardly any names. You don’t know where I was born. You don’t even know my favorite TV show.

Then they will cite that my reputation will plummet, that employers read everything, that I would not be able to explain all of this in an interview, that this would cost me my future. I don’t see how pretending I’m perfect will improve my “reputation” if I feel like a fraud and I feel worthless, blog or no blog. Perhaps my writings have some sort of value. I will not conceal them, because I need help, and anyone who can is free to enlighten me.

I feel like I was never alive. I feel as if I’ve missed out on life for the majority of my life. It feels wrong. Look at my crappy coding. I’m delusional thinking I’d ever get to such a prestigious “technology heaven” like MIT where cool people hang out and innovative hardware projects come to life. How could I move on to that stage of my life if I cannot resolve the problems that come before that? I’m afraid I’ll bankrupt my parents, anyway, or they’ll have to work way past their retirement.

Stop complaining???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve wasted an hour now complaining! What is wrong with me? Lord, have mercy on me…