Why Time Machines Don’t Exist

Time machines would be the end of humanity as we know it.

If people had access to time machines, they’d be full of natural curiosity. They would travel back in time to their teenage selves and watch them, to see what it looked like from an outside, all growed up perspective.

They would then proceed to punch that teenager in the face.

This teenager would subsequently be terrified by the fact that a total stranger (who looked oddly familiar) punched them in the face just for saying “like” seventeen times in three minutes, and they would be panic stricken and driven to live the life of a hermit.

So, as you can see, if everyone had access to a time machine, we would ruin ourselves. We would end up with only the douchey pricks who were douchey pricks in high school and grew up to be douchey pricks. And we all know two douchey pricks can’t mate, because they would spend so much time trying to out-douche each other, they’d forget [and not care] that the fate of the human species rested solely on them.

We’d be screwed.

While it is really for our own well-being that we do not have time machines, we do have windows into the past. Little portals that allow you to see what an annoying twit you were when you were young, without giving you the capability of TELLING that teenager to cowgirl up and calm the fuck down.

We call that window “Livejournal”.

When I started writing in this blog every day, I thought to myself, “Aw, it’s like I have a Livejournal again! A place on the interwebs to share my thoughts and feelings that people could technically read but probably will not.”

Well, it seems that my memory had largely misrepresented things.

You see, this blog is a place where I share my thoughts and feelings.

My Livejournal, turns out, was a place where I shared my every every single movement or thought, even if especially if it was extremely trivial and unimportant.

For your reading (dis)pleasure, I have extracted some choice selections from the trainwreck of an online diary.

Please mind you that this “writing” all occurred while I was in my private, college prepatory high school in mostly honors classes. So there are really no excuses.

Feel free to exclaim, “for shame!” at any point during this reading.

In regards to making mix CDs, which I had decided were super fun to make and I would make them for anyone for free…possibly for the cost of one blank CD:

so if you want one, just email ur playlist (BroadwayGirl713@msn.com) and i’ll give it to you in school (or at summer service or the drama banquet *if it happens* or sumthin if its after skool gets out…

First of all, I know it’s tempting, but don’t try to email that absurdly dorky email address listed above. It is probably inactive by now, and you do NOT want that girl making you a mixed CD. Unless you really love Avril Lavigne, the Bedingfield siblings or techno remixes of old songs.

Second of all, I am APPALLED that anyone with any sort of educational background whatsoever would write the word “skool” in a public forum. Especially since it is made obvious, not two lines before, that she is perfectly aware and capable of spelling it correctly.

On the same lines…

Not too kool if you ask me.

I will admit this was sort of a trademark of mine in high school. I spelled “cool” with a k almost exclusively. Which is not too kool if you ask me.

I really wish that I could say that in this next paragraph, I was doing a bit of character acting and trying to channel every teenager ever portrayed in the media:

i hate to do this, but this is ALL MY MOM’S FAULT. if she trusted people AT ALL, if she EVER let me do ANYTHING then this wouldnt be an issue and nana would be like, oh i’m sure its fine. but no, since i’m always treated like i’m five, everyone else treats my like that too. it’s not like i ever did anything to deserve this lack of responsibility. i would understand if i had been like drinking and having sex over ppls houses, but NO. its just because its ME. i know they THINK its for the best but they’re RUINING MY LIFE.

Sadly, that was just how my brain worked at sixteen years old. This was in regards to my grandmother, who was in charge of my brother and I while my parents were away, denying my request to go to something I’m sure went on just fine without me.

However, I would like to applaud my teenage self for the dramatic use of the Caps Lock key.  Also, a lovely use of irony in using phrases such as “if she EVER let me do ANYTHING” and “they’re RUINING MY LIFE” while at the same time complaining that everyone treats her like she’s five.

Yes, I have transitioned into referring to my former self in the third person. It hurts too much any other way.

Some trains of thought are never meant to leave the station:

i must hang out with her this summer, or i will be forced to shoot myself in the foot. which would hurt. and be difficult considering a dont have a gun. so i’d have to resort to stabbing myself in the foot. with a stick. or something. yeah.

I tried to give this poor soul the benefit of the doubt here and think that maybe she was just using this website as a diary. Just like a paper diary, meant for just your own eyes, but with the speed of typing.

However, I then realized that every time Past Me would pause, she would throw a period down. Not bothering with capital letters unless overexcited, she would continue on until she was taking another break in thinking. Sometimes, if the next words she wanted to write didn’t come immediately, she would fill this time with words like “so” or “yeah” and possibly some extra letters that don’t belong anywhere, just for fun.

omg i got the fourth season of Buffy on DVD!! HOW FREAKIN EXCITING IS THAT??? ok, maybe not for anyone except me, but WOO. except i’m not allowed to open it until my room’s clean. bah. its ok, it’ll be worth the wait. “Hush” is on that season! woo! LOVE that ep. boo yes. hehe.

oOoOoOoOoOokay. i should get to cleanin right about now. so. yea. bye. *muah*

The fact that this hot mess decided to end these entries with valedictions implies that she believed she had an audience. Which is disheartening news, quite frankly. These snippets were the most exciting parts of the entries they were plucked from. I spared you the drivel that filled the rest of the space.

At least she had good taste in television shows.

If you were one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had to be a party to any of that, I do apologize. Sincerely, from the very bottom of my heart.

Maybe someday, after many hours on wiktionary.com and once my eyes stop burning, I will gaze once more through that window called Livejournal and share more of the atrocities I find there.

Now, however, I need to go read something that doesn’t make me feel like my brain cells are being plucked from my head by a blunt, rusty, shrimp cleaner.

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~ by Valerie Anne on 07/29/2011.

4 Responses to “Why Time Machines Don’t Exist”

  1. I wish livejournal never hAppened. So embarrassing…haha

  2. Yeah, no apology necessary. Mine reads the exact same way. I’m not sure why we were so convinced that everyone wanted to read every detail of our life, but I also don’t remember disliking reading other people’s life details back then…

    • I know, I don’t remember it seeming weird at the time either!! And I mean, I was WITH you guys most of the day, so theoretically I shouldn’t have needed to READ about it, but I still loved every entry!

      Go figure!

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