nothingcore
More Themes
themesJust created five more themes for mindsay. Basic Purple, Basic Orange, Basic Aqua, Basic Yellow, and Basic Teal.
-The Real Josh
Entry Two- Sunday October 9th
2005--
I was thinking about the people I love
last night. I might further elaborate on
this, but I won't. I have to do some college work first.(Tomorrow I
shall)
Some minor things I did today, I
submitted a new theme and I was thinking about making a php script
that parses the XML rss feeds and displays mindsay's blogs on my
site. Sounds pretty lame though.
Other Minor Notes:
I should of used adobe image ready on
my images to make sure they extra small.
Too lazy though.
Some Issues with mindsay's coding:
DIV tags suck. I wish Mindsay used
tables because they are very customizable. I guess those DIV tags
have a point though because you can move the plugins around on the
site. DIV tags don't work with height % which doesn't allow me to
expand the plugins to 100%. I wanted the plugins to expand to 100%
of the page with a vertical align at the top, but it wouldn't work.
This is the second time my ideas were limited by DIV tags. I tried to
help Chip my older brother with his site, but the DIV tags were just
too much of a hassle.
More Philosphy Tomorrow(Maybe a Story)
-The Real Josh
I think I was wondering why.
Entry One- Sunday October 9th 2005--
Many perceptions of me exist. I know I have failed when those perceptions aren't me, but, what you think is truly me. My grandma thinks I'm very selfish. I believe this in a way for some reason. I understand when, I keep a tab on money my brother owes me, I am selfish. And when I want people to be more considerate, I understand that my feelings are those selfish manifestation of my wants. But, I am not selfish, I am only to a certain extent at which you can perceive me to be. Perception is something I thought too much about and now I understand it is all true.
Today I silently cried realizing that I was so absurd. Because I feel terrible and have become so useless to everyone. I hate talking about this lame disease, and everything that it does too me because I want to be normal. I want this world to be strikly real, but this stupid thing tears me apart even if I ignore it. Even pretending to be normal doesn't work anymore. Today, I wouldn't even go into the store with my mom to get groceries because the place brings back memories of people once gone. The people I worked with think I was fantastic, and offered me job with them anytime I come back after I quit. But inside, I feel like I'm a sham. A false empty god of sorts. I wasn't really a good simple worker, I just did because I had to, to endure everything. I am selfish, I don't want to work because my muscles are slack and my body is frail. I stare into the mirror looking at my face and I realize that my eyes are hollowed and tired looking. And that damn medicine I'm taking for my disease is causing my face and chest to break out in lame red pimples. And strangely enough, my hair is receding and has been since 11th grade. I feel like I'm falling apart.
I look down at my lame scar cutting up just above my pubic bone across my adomen around my belly button disapearing once it reaches my ribs and realize that I can't ever be normal even if they find a cure for my disease. I will be always missing those vital parts of my body htta make me real and I will always struggle to gain weight. I look at my absurd naked figure in the mirror and understand that I will be a damn skinny bastard forever who is goddamn weak and useless. I couldn't even do any of my homework today or organize my downstairs table. I haven't been keeping track of my spendings as well as I should be, and damn me, because I don't care enough about no one to do any of that stuff. I can't even pick up the hose to water the plants for my mom each day. “What a bastard” as Steve says.
That's why I cried silently, because I am selfish and I understand that much. I tell myself I would do more if this disease wasn't breaking my being apart. But I'm not sure anymore. Please realize I only highlighted everything evil I do, and forgot about all the good see ya.
-The Real Josh(with some sadness in his heart)
Many perceptions of me exist. I know I have failed when those perceptions aren't me, but, what you think is truly me. My grandma thinks I'm very selfish. I believe this in a way for some reason. I understand when, I keep a tab on money my brother owes me, I am selfish. And when I want people to be more considerate, I understand that my feelings are those selfish manifestation of my wants. But, I am not selfish, I am only to a certain extent at which you can perceive me to be. Perception is something I thought too much about and now I understand it is all true.
Today I silently cried realizing that I was so absurd. Because I feel terrible and have become so useless to everyone. I hate talking about this lame disease, and everything that it does too me because I want to be normal. I want this world to be strikly real, but this stupid thing tears me apart even if I ignore it. Even pretending to be normal doesn't work anymore. Today, I wouldn't even go into the store with my mom to get groceries because the place brings back memories of people once gone. The people I worked with think I was fantastic, and offered me job with them anytime I come back after I quit. But inside, I feel like I'm a sham. A false empty god of sorts. I wasn't really a good simple worker, I just did because I had to, to endure everything. I am selfish, I don't want to work because my muscles are slack and my body is frail. I stare into the mirror looking at my face and I realize that my eyes are hollowed and tired looking. And that damn medicine I'm taking for my disease is causing my face and chest to break out in lame red pimples. And strangely enough, my hair is receding and has been since 11th grade. I feel like I'm falling apart.
I look down at my lame scar cutting up just above my pubic bone across my adomen around my belly button disapearing once it reaches my ribs and realize that I can't ever be normal even if they find a cure for my disease. I will be always missing those vital parts of my body htta make me real and I will always struggle to gain weight. I look at my absurd naked figure in the mirror and understand that I will be a damn skinny bastard forever who is goddamn weak and useless. I couldn't even do any of my homework today or organize my downstairs table. I haven't been keeping track of my spendings as well as I should be, and damn me, because I don't care enough about no one to do any of that stuff. I can't even pick up the hose to water the plants for my mom each day. “What a bastard” as Steve says.
That's why I cried silently, because I am selfish and I understand that much. I tell myself I would do more if this disease wasn't breaking my being apart. But I'm not sure anymore. Please realize I only highlighted everything evil I do, and forgot about all the good see ya.
-The Real Josh(with some sadness in his heart)
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