I don't update my Facebook status anymore. It's pointless, really; only a few people actually react to anything I say and those are people who I could tolerate a phone call from. The rest are people who just enjoy having me as a number on their list. I don't get it, but I'm not that sociable to begin with, so it doesn't matter. I do like to check in with certain people who either educate or amuse me, but for the most part it's pure static. I have a static track on constant replay in iTunes on my desktop that I play at night to drown out annoying frequencies from outside or next door (or the next room), and the best part about that is I can turn the screen off and listen to the static in my sleep. My favorite is the brown noise; not the one from South Park, but remarkably resembling a television version of an earthquake-grumble, especially when I crank the bass all the way up...
But I digress. Facebook is fairly useless to me as a means of communication since few people read what I write there, and far more often than not I feel compelled to defend my beliefs than I do to express them. Therefore, I deleted the app from my phone and haven't updated since late August.
I noticed right away that the ads and suggestions that were constantly clogging my news feed virtually disappeared. Later, I noticed that regular updates from people on my friends list practically disappeared as well. Apparently since I wasn't generating enough activity on my own timeline, Facebook wasn't interested in me anymore. Good, I'm glad we could agree on something.
Facebook to me has exposed so much hypocrisy about the current generation of citizens in this country and around the world that I almost get physically sick looking at the news feeds. I'm guessing that this is what vegans feel about meat and dairy products. Or perhaps someone who quit smoking for long enough to have normal breathing and taste senses returned to them so that looking at a cigarette is like trying to obliterate it with your mind without it actually lighting up. There are lots of allegories and metaphors that suit comparison to giving up something that is ultimately bad for you, so take your pick and be creative.
At any rate, I find that I don't even feel like sharing my every waking thought even here, so don't expect daily updates unless my life gets really exciting. I moved recently to a nicer apartment in a much nicer part of town, and I have a blog post in the works relating my experiences in the works, but don't wait up all night; I've got a class in general construction electricity that I'm taking on the weekends that I need to go to bed for, so we'll talk later. G'nite!
Saturday, August 30, 2014
|Joe Hunt and Isaiah Page|
No. Simple as that. Others have realized their dreams working as hard as I have, and I hope to follow that to my own success.
But this is not about me, but about a boy with simple plans and bigger dreams. I wish you the best, nephew, and will continue to be in your corner as we fight our way to the top.
|Uncle Joe, Uncle Chyll, College Man and Mommy|
Monday, August 25, 2014
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
|I used to eat at this Mickey Ds when I worked in Brooklyn no more than two years ago from this date. Though I now eschew McDonalds (and never particularly cared for the service at this one), finding it waiting to be replaced by an 11-story condo building is rather disquieting... Photo Credit: Gowanus In Your Face|
If this makes me arrogant, well then so be it. If you've read my past posts, you have a strong idea where that comes from. I guess that statement goes more for the random people who might be coming over here from Facebook after reading some of my status updates indicating that I was leaving Facebook, or replacing my profile with a link to his site. I would suggest reading some of those past posts if you really want to get to know me, because they can be rather open about my thoughts. I tried doing that on Facebook and got a lot of nothing for the most part. If I really wanted that (and that's debatable at this point), why not do it somewhere I don't necessarily have to worry about the post being lost among millions of other voices straining for space on a limiting platform that will randomly censor me or redirect my personal information for its own interests? Maybe because doing so will require more work?
I've never been afraid of hard work, just working for nothing in return. So I guess I have to make up a reason. How about the semblance of freedom? Unless I'm financially independent (which seems almost like a contradiction in terms), I'm not free in any capacity to do what I want. But I am free to do what I wish during the times I'm not laboring for someone else's benefit and my meager recompense. I suppose I should assign an emotional value to that as well, as that would be the main impetus of my continued effort to purposely distance myself from social media. I'm not very social to begin with. I know HOW to be sociable under certain circumstances, but not extroverted. It's very draining, physically and emotionally. I get headaches just thinking about it, which is often when I'm not doing anything challenging that will be of great benefit to me and maybe mankind (and being social is not the challenge I'm looking for, so there).
I'll tell you what, I'm not going to be one of those people that fall off the grid entirely because they hate civilization or they committed a crime and have to live off the land until the heat is off. If anything, I am generous and engaging when the right subject is broached. I'm just tired of all the noise. You know what I mean, the noise. I'll sit in my cyberspot for now and repost some of the content that interests me from Facebook or other places I visit throughout the day, and every now and then I'll throw in my own two cents. That's about all I can do for now. I don't have anyone that can inspire me to deconstruct the box I live in when I'm feeling like this, so I'll have to invent mind games or distract myself from my own thoughts with other's thoughts that I feel like processing without it having to be constantly crowded on me. I don't like crowds, even when they pay. But that's none of your business, right? >;)
Keep diggin' the dream, readers. Sometimes you have to redirect and refocus in order to achieve. I've never given up, even if you don't see me around. I'm just digging in a different direction or straightening up the place. For now.
Monday, December 23, 2013
I wish I could say it was one of the nicest places I lived in, but it was quite the opposite. I had no idea what i was in for when I moved in; fresh faced from the suburbs and transferred from community college to complete my film degree at Hunter. If the drug busts, gang fights, crack vials, booming radios, cringing neighbors (especially the ones from other blocks who all wanted to quarantine the block from the rest of the neighborhood) weren't an indication, then certainly the rats were. These were rats that let you know that the stories you heard about New York City rats were not necessarily apocryphal.
I'm sure this street was one of the nicest places to live at a certain time in history, but these days it reflects a lot on what happened to the Bronx in general when the decay and withdrawal of industry (and jobs and the urban middle class in short order) ravaged the borough, leaving emotional scars across the board that lingered for generations.
I recently found out that an organization decided to build a facility to house and service folks who were both homeless and mentally ill. The link is to a PDF newsletter from Postgraduate Center for Mental Health introducing the new Lyvere Street Residence. The facility has (or will have, I haven't verified it's existence or completion yet) forty-eight units with many modern amenities and a courtyard that's said to be it's centerpiece; something the whole community will be drawn to.
It replaces the little shack that housed a big drug nest, as well as the green and white house my neighbor James, his wife and two kids lived in. I can still hear him calling out and asking if I need a MetroCard.
And to be honest, I don't really know how I feel. I can't help but sense some sort of irony in it all.