ctrl+shift+n

I'm currently in bed, all warm and cosey listening to music and I can sorta hear the rain outside. Or maybe its just tires going over wet road. Probably the latter... either way its lush and soothing.

I'm hardly sleepy yet but unfortunately I've gotta force myself due to work being pretty early tomorrow morning. Which sorta blows considering its Saturday but I should stop my bitching.

What I actually came on to write about is this;

Yesterday night my homeboy and myself got onto the subject of child minding. His mother is a child minder. Out of curiosity I asked if she ever has to child mind over night, or for 24 hours. No, he said. But they might stick around until late evening/early morning if their parents were at functions, like weddings and such.
As soon as he said it, it prompted memories of when that used to happen to me as a kid. Being dropped off somewhere to be minded while the rents were out at some dry function, usually out of obligation :P

And upon remembering it and all its associated feelings etc. I began to feel very, very uneasy. Bad vibes, everywhere.
And what I remembered in particular was being dropped off at somebodies boring joint, sticking around, staying up watching bad cartoons and TV shows that I didn't like until I became weary and fell asleep on an uncomfortable couch, only to be woken by your parents being in the room, picking your sleepy ass up to go home.

Something about THAT particular thought, made me feel really weird. Even now, writing about it, gives me really strange vibes. I don't exactly know what it is - maybe it was the feeling of just wanting to be home really bad, being helplessly lonely, being stark bored, shy, missing out on the fun, or what? I'm sure nothing terrible happened, I don't think so anyway. I suppose Nirvana's song "Sliver" described it pretty well. You get dropped off somewhere, you watch tv, you eat, you play - and you fucking hate it.
"Grandma take me home! Grandma take me home! Grandma take me home!"
the chorus, repeated over and over and over by Cobain. Maybe he knows what I'm talking about. But he's dead and I can't exactly ask.

This just reminded me of a topic in conversation that I had with a lovely friend about repressed memories and the subconscious. If a sufficiently disturbing/threatening event happened in your life - particularly childhood or adolescence, your subsconscious knows to erase or forget it. You might remember the event and cause, but the details are erased for your own good and well being. Fuckin' remarkable, I think. At that, I don't think anything disturbing or threatening happened to me at that stage in life. I really do doubt it. But considering that I have an impeccable memory of my childhood, kindy and even before that, why is it that this particular scene gives me the heeby jeebies, making me want to forget it as soon as possible? Or the fact that I don't really remember any details about it.

I think I'm just looking into to much actually, because obviously details of your childhood like that slowly fade into obscurity. But it's food for thought no?




Thinkin' of you!

-n xoxo

yeah he's tough...

but i didn't know he'd beat up my fist with his face.

<3

they're WHAT now!?

bail the defenses.. !

>27hrs

I don't actually have anything to write about. Actually I'm kinda forcing myself to write, mainly because I feel like I need to.

Of the things I thought I could write about:

dreams, songs, language, the addressing of shortcomings, proclamation of my own genius (not), absurd and miscellaneous, the aura of the extraordinary aaaand finally, myself.

So thats what I've finally decided on. I will give you the unenviable pleasure of reading about yours truly.

So whats been going on in the life of me lately?

As a lot of you may know, I don't go to university. For those of you who don't: I don't go to university. I deferred my offers till next year. Which means as of March 31 I had roughly 300 days for me to earn money and enjoy the lack of academia, but not necessarily learning. I learn what I feel I need and want to, and reject all else. So that leaves me various useless trivia, scattered here-and-theres of history (namely World War 2) and how to wrestle grizzly bears and then cook their young for vital nourishment in the North American wilderness, or in the Serengeti's case, lions and hippopotamus... But no actually I walk away with a better understanding of some finer points of life that I never knew. Don't get me wrong. I don't claim, nor will I ever claim in my life (you can bet on it) to ever know the majority of the answers to life. But without getting to balls deep, the fact that I have for the first time in my life been given more than 1 and a half months of me time since 1995 has taught me much.
Its a gift, and I'm tempted to go with the cliche say that its a curse as well but I'm not sure if it is. Things haven't exactly been 100% dandy as things never really are. And I hope you know what I mean when I say that sometimes it's not easy to take things as bounties and blessings all the time. But thats the way things are with everybody I guess. At least I hope so anyway.
I really don't wanna talk about work in detail, as no one really likes hearing about it. Including myself. All I'll say is that I'm enjoying my work and the people that I work with, which makes shit a lot easier. I'm also grateful to have a job that seems pretty secure and that pays me pretty well. I guess I got things on lock in that department... I'm earning cash and experience and some fun times to boot. Though sometimes I really don't know where the fuck my money goes. Something out there, somewhere, is the virtual leech of my bank account. But, oh well. I hate money. Not in the way that I deny the need for it, but the fact that we need it sucks. Then again I wouldn't wanna barter fucken sea shells either. Actually... who am I kidding? Yes I fucken' do I live next to a beach for Pete's sake.

INTERMISSION...
Okay hold on a second. I'm trying to get back to my senses. I just got mind fucked by the end of Kirlian Isles II by The Flashbulb. It was all ambient and chill until the music changes mood and gets all psychotic on me... so hold on a sec.

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Alright. Back into the nice stuff.

Approximately 26 hours later, I'm continuing this post. I intended on finishing it yesterday night, but it didn't end up happen. Got lost in Chopin. Had he been born a woman and lived his life identically, I'd be into necrophilia... maybe not. But I'd be in a disgustingly deep love with a dead classical music genius. So, seeing as I don't want to be changing the subject anytime soon, my criminally boring and languid love life is as it goes. Thats really all that I'm going to say about that otherwise I won't stop. Unless of course you ask. This isn't really an insinuation either - I'm fairly indifferent as to whether you do or you don't, though I do appreciate concern when given lol. So eh... I guess if I could just end this paragraph with anything it'd be a recommendation to listen to all of Chopin's Nocturnes. It's an absolute diorama of emotions, inspired by the night. The only piece of music where I legitimately feel that he wrote it for me, to me. Whether he's laughing or crying either with me or at me - it's sincere all the same.

Uhhhm... fff.. since I'm continuing this from last night it's kinda hard to keep with the subject and my train of thought isn't the same. But I'll try and salvage what thoughts I had and put them back in...




So since I've been / and will be doing the same-old thing this year I've just been thinking about what sort of things I'd like to do or achieve or have a go at. Just simple stuff like read more, try my hand at poetry and spoken word, make music (and hence continue my love/hate affair with my own efforts) and stuff like that. A friend of mine (whose ambition and vision I wish I shared) has asked me to act in a film he might be making, and I love acting so that should be interesting. But all these things are, just little things to make me happy and expand my horizons a little bit.
It's not just me currently lack a long term vision for my life and myself, I've sort of always lacked it. Everyone shits on all the time about having your long term goals and then working towards them, having big plans for your life and stuff - but that was never me. I suppose the biggest thing really has been my idea of wanting to move out. I hate living at home. So long as I'm here, I'm not me. But I don't know if that idea could materialise anytime soon.
But hey you know... fuck. Whatever?

If I had to write one last thing about this fascinating (not) update on myself before I leave it for the night is a general misanthropy. Well, maybe not misanthropy because that conjures up whiffs of hatred. It's definitely not a hatred. Maybe cynicism is the better word. I suppose I just feel like people don't really act upon anything sincerely anymore and it's really easily made me think differently of a lot of people - but in a benign, contemplative way. Obviously I wouldn't treat them differently or do anything to physically act upon it - but it's just got me thinking. Uh for example I just feel that lately people only really talk to you when they need or want something (whatever it might be), are only in it for themselves when you look into it; even worse off when it's someone you invest time, energy, respect and kindness to because you feel like they deserve it.


And I'm just about spent. Thats me forcing myself to write about something, and that something ended up being an update on myself. Hope you've learned something, and, well... I dunno. Drop me a line or something.


Thanks so much for reading.


Chocolat, pour vous
ncpx x

i lied.

yeah. thats right. i lied. sorry folks. but what I'm about to tell you was way too much to get off my chest at that particular time. So heres the real story as to what ncpx really is.

the place where I work used to be a massive Apple complex (apple as in the company that makes iPods and Mac computers etc.) and it was built in the 1970s. In it was stored a lot of Australia's prime technology - the best shit you could get in the country at the time and a lot of research went on there - a recently declassified joint venture between the Australian Govt. and Apple.

anyway, this place was vacated by the late 90s and has been vacant 'till we came in 08 and started building our shit. as part of the opening team I got to inspect the place during the final stages of construction. so walking around the main areas of the joint I got pretty bored and decided to go up some stairs (and I didn't get stuck in them).

So I ended up on the uppermost floor, and walked for what seemed like ages past odd pipes, access panels, gauges, a boiler room, and miscellaneous junk leftover from the 30-year party that Apple threw in here before we came. That was until I get to an interesting door - a fuckin' huge vault door with an electronic number pad on it, left ajar. Wahey, ace. I'd come across something interesting! The trip was worth it.

The thing was pretty damn large so I had to shove it with my shoulder for it to move. So, all 80+ kilos of me accelerating into this door made it move quite shy of 1 meter. After shaking the dust from the vault slab off my shoulder and making a few curious peeks around the corner from under the door frame, I walked into the room.

Wasn't that big. It housed 6 tall lockers (the really old school type), some bookshelves, rearranged computer desks (with very old monitors left behind on them) and files of shit allover the floor. What I found most interesting though, was a metal pillbox type thing I found stuck to the bottom of one of the desks. So I side-kicked that shit off. Picked it up, put it next to my ear and gave it a shake. And sure enough there was stuff in there. So obviously I wanted to open it because I was eager to know what was left inside here (instead of just being chucked around on the floor) but the top wouldn't budge. It probably seized up with age, with the rust and buildup and shit like that. So I ran back to the main area to get something to pry it open with.

All the tradeys, various contractors and my superiors were too busy overlooking the project so I just walked up to the nearest tool box and racked the biggest flat-head screw driver in there. I jogged past the pipes, access panels, gauges, a boiler room and miscellaneous junk back to the security door and stopped right under the door frame.

"Why. the fuck. are the lights on?"

It's kinda freaky when you stumble across an interesting room with a busted open vault-thing, at the end of a long hallway of industrial shit-and-mess, in dead silence with no one around - and then find that the lights are on . I looked around for a light switch - there was none. THe only reason why I could see in there before was because there was light from the hallway outside - just enough to dimly light the room.

Fuck it, I thought. Probably just automatic. I wedged the end of the screwdriver under the lid and levered it upwards. Wasn't easy but, after some good yakka and elbow grease it opened. And as soon as the lid flicked off, a caged red light on the wall to my right turned on. No coincidence, for sure. It must have tripped it.

Seconds after, I heard a computer boot from inside one of the large desk drawers. I'm assuming it was an old school computer because the fan was so fucking loud, and it sounded like the one my dad bought for me and my sister back when I was in first grade (it was so shit, but it ran Diablo 1 and that was cool enough for me).

But, yeah. I was pretty freaked out. But so interested - so I flicked through the neat piles of documents that were in the pillbox. I flicked the pages with my thumb until I felt a paper clip and decided to open it there. It was used to attach a little handwritten note onto an A4 page

Username: jbriggs_apple29
Password: **********(I don't remember what it was)

Cool. I just got a login and password for something. The computer turned on anyway, so I figured it would have something to do with that, captain obvious.

It was REALLY primitive. The type that only came in two-tone. That bright digital green in that terrible DOS font. And needless to say, it had no operating system. Only text based commands , Y/N , >run kind of thing yea?

at first there was just a flashing green underscore on the top left of the screen. So I hit enter, to see if I would get a response. The computer made some clicking noises (the type your PC makes when loading) and was confronted with a login screen! Woohoo, time to try out my login. So I type it, and hit enter.

...

nothing happens.

I hit enter again. And wait.

Shit, nothing happens. I try hitting enter again and again but it seems frozen. The underscore stopped flashing, and the computer stopped loading (because it stopped making clicking noises). So I kicked the drawer where the machine to maybe get the machine responding again, and sure enough it did.

"Confirm? Y/N "

I hit Y (Y means Yes, N means No)

more clicking noises.



Then . Shit got real.

My face pretty close to the screen with anticipation of some possibly cool info, a deafening beep sounded from the computer - and it scared the SHIT out of me. I jumped back, and the flashing underscore spammed over and over again, on the left side of the screen:

ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx
ncpx

Over, and over, and over, and over, and over.

I dunno, I just got scared. What the fuck? It beeps loud as fuck at me and I go into momentary cardiac arrest, and its telling me ncpx. I hit enter again.

"Initiate ncpx? Y/N"

Fuck I didn't know so I just hit Y.

The red light on the wall flashed, the computer made a louder fucking beep, and - yep, all the lights turned off. So here I am, shocked off my nuts, in complete darkness because EVEN THE LIGHTS IN THE HALLWAY WERE OFF.

I just stood there, for a few seconds, I didn't know what to fucking do. I completely forgot that I had a phone in my pocket with a light, I was just scared yo.

But then the tin lockers started trembling. Yep. Fuck that. I needed to get outta there, because I meddled and I came across shit I shouldn't have. I ran back towards the other direction, in complete darkness. I think I tripped like, twice. And I'm out in the main area... only to find that the last of the tradeys had gone home for the day. I was the last fucking person in the building.

.. yeah.



Love,

ncpx. x

jagerbombs.

I've recently thought about the bearing that strangers have on my life.
Well... no maybe not my 'life' (I use the term too loosely...) but more appropriately, the perception I have of people, society, humanity etc. Which, in the end, affects me.

it's comforting to know that someone you know nothing about (and needless to say, knows nothing about you) actually gives a shit (about you). I'll go as far as saying that I prefer the concern of strangers.

Why? Simply because they don't have to care. But they do - without any obligation or necessity other than to just 'be there'. I could have been just the other 6 billion + people here in the face of apathy - but one just choose to give a genuine damn.

its a pure intention that i feel never goes unpaid.

i write because of personal experience. one that doesn't happen often, but one I don't often forget. because i feel like they happen for a reason.

I feel at a bit of a loss that these people are just strangers and nothing more. because you might think that its only fair that they have something more to do with you, instead of just that 10 minutes decided by chance. but maybe we arent supposed to know them. maybe purity is ruined by acquaintance.

to fall in one-time yet true love is to receive the care of destined strangers.

i only wish i could offer the same confidence - lately it seems im only on the receiving end.

fuck it i'm feeling restless. im outta here.



kisses blown,
ncpx. x

Round 2...

... fuck it I'll sleep on it.

ncpx the hero

Interesting day at work today. Weirdos seemed to be out in full force. Must've been the weather. Either way I'm not complaining. It kept me very much entertained (and confused at the same time...)

Okay so approximately 11 AM I'm standing around at the reception desk just chillin' and watching the news (9 Killed in Alabama School Shooting read the headline, how terrible).
The phone rings.

"Hey there, NCPX speaking =) "

"h--e-p.. m.. st-!"

"Sorry you seem to be breaking up?"

"Ye- hello!?"

So at this point I figure she sounds pretty distressed.

"Yes Hi. I'm stuck in the emergency stairs! :( Level 4 ! Behind the fitness equipment :(! Can you let me out? I've been in here for half an hour :O"

HAHAHAH. Am I terrible for laughing? Because as soon as I agreed to let her out (because I'm a GREAT Samaritan) I cracked the hell up. Because.. why the hell are you in the emergency stairs? God damn...

So anyway I embark on my rescue mission (not without my hunting knife) and then I realise... this place is pretty fuckin' huge. I barely know my way around the dungeons and annals of this joint. So I wing it. I got a woman to rescue - I aint gonna let her die in there! Not on my watch! But then I laughed again because I thought about how funny it would be if things got that drastic. Haha...

I knew of about 3 or 4 emergency doors with a set of stairs in the place. And of course, because Murphy's Law is awesome, she was in the staircase I DIDN'T know about. So it took me an extra 5-8 minutes to rescue the damsel in distress, because I had to go up and down each staircase. And yes, in case you're wondering, I'm now extremely fit, have a 6 pack and am able to wrestle various large reptile species.

So on my way to the hot spot, like a true bad-ass hero, I run through very unlikely scenarios (JUST in case I'm gonna have to blow this motherfucker up). Example -

"Hmm... An innocent sounding ethnic woman in distress is stuck in emergency access stairs that even *I*, an employee, don't know where they are. She couldn't be a contractor...
ALL SIGNS POINT TO TERRORIST."

So my heart starts racing n' shit! I pulled that hunting knife out that I was talking about previously, and I hold that shit SABER GRIP like a pro (none of that serial killer stuff. Michael Myers was a wanker). I'm stealthing that shit to the emergency door.

"Be careful ncpx :(" says some lady, obviously quite aware of the peril I might face, and genuinely concerned for my safety.

"Thanks lady... it's alright I got this shit on
lock."

So I approach the door and I hear a bit of commotion inside. The type of noise that terrorists make when they're up to shit (you know the one?)

So I KICK the damn door open right? THOOMP...

"FREEZE LOSER!"

...
........


Nah that didn't happen like that. But anyway as soon as I get in the door I took a good two minutes of chill time so that I didn't laugh in her face when I opened it - because it was pretty funny. So it took me a good few minutes to get to her... add that onto the already half-hour she'd been in there - thats pretty distressing haha.

So I open the door, with abit of a smile on my face. There she is - a middle-aged European woman - oddly enough seemed to be dress for what seemed like dinner. Definitely not your gym slacks - she had a nice blouse, skirt and a handbag.
And she grilled me like your dad's 6-burner. Straight up.

"LISTEN YOU. YOU HAVE TO PUT A SIGN ON THESE DOORS! OKAY! I'M NOT HAPPY I WAS IN HERE FOR HALF AN HOUR. YOU HAVE TO PUT A SIGN. SAYING THAT PEOPLE SHOULD NOT GO IN HERE. OKAY? GOODNESS ME..." etc. etc. for a couple of minutes.

If I wasn't so amused by the situation I would've flipped. Because... you know.. this place is pretty god damn big. Its like 5000 square meters. You don't just fucking explore the place like it's your house. Especially odd doors next to other odd doors that say "STAFF ONLY" on them...

But anyway. Thats one lady rescued - she can now go home to her family, and tell them of her journeys through the annals of Virgin Active Frenchs Forest, and how a charming man named ncpx totally saved her curious ass.

hm?

"... like theres no tomorrow"

cliche, but common figure of speech.

so I told them that there is. A tomorrow.



Somehow I was the pessimist !

not so clear or concise. hopefully suffice.

So by popular demand (and a bit of personal desire), I think I owe you all another explanation! Its just something I've been holding off for a little bit. I don't know why. So first of all, to all you people that have been expecting/asking for a recent update; my sincere apologies. I've felt a little mentally bankrupt lately. But with the help of a few extremely good friends and company, I've decided to bring it out. How appropriate of me to talk about "coming out" on the night of the mardi gras. :P So here it is:

"What does ncpx mean?"
"" " " stand for?"
"" is ncpx?"

You get the drift. At that, I've actually received some interesting stabs at what it is.
One being "ncpx can't play xylophone". Which isn't at all separated from the truth. I can't play xylophone! In fact, I'd love to be able to but I really can't. So kudos to Alex - but, thats not why I chose the handle.

For those of you interested, let me tell you what 'ncpx' is. Or try to anyway. Because I don't really know what ncpx is. Apart from the fact that, oddly enough, I feel attached to this/it/him/her.
So let me begin by saying, I'm a vivid dreamer. By vivid I mean, I recall my dreams 90% of the time with near perfect clarity. Often times lucidly, but thats a different story for a totally different day. I make note of them, write them down in detail when I remember them and analyse them - most of the time I'm able to come to some sort of conclusion as to what they mean, why I dreamed it, and how it applies to my life.

Not so, says 'ncpx' . This four letter phrase appeared to me in at least 5 dreams, maybe more but I'm not too sure. And unlike the rest of the shit that appears, I have no idea what or who it applies to, what it means, or why it appears. I only know that proceeding it is a large number, in the hundreds or in the thousands (for example, 900 or 2000). The number would change, everytime. But ncpx stayed the same.
Everytime I woke up, I said the same thing to myself.

"wtf is ncpx?"

For a few months now, it's stopped appearing. I don't really care - but having said that I wouldn't mind for it to come back again, in a vivider scenario so that maybe I can look at it again and figure stuff out. As for now, it's left me in a bit of contemplation. It could may well mean fuck all. Then again I believe everything appears for a reason (especially in deja-vu circumstances). Unlike most things that I try to stick with, I haven't grown sick or tired of either looking at it or saying it or the idea of it being associated with me. To be honest its actually pretty comforting to know that something like this has come out of the purest of intentions - away from the corruption of consciousness and lucidity itself.

So... to answer your question of "what is ncpx?" and associated likenesses....

The answer:

I DON'T KNOW.




Perhaps we aren't asking the right questions. All I know is that later, maybe I'll share with you the various slideshows and scenarios that play out in my head when I grab my precious 12+ hour beauty sleeps in vivid detail, perhaps even the ones that ncpx seems to rear it's mysterious head in.



Seeya's later.


All love to you and yours,


ncpx xx

Apologies

Hey pals,
I've been down and out with a throat infection/flu so I haven't been in much of a mood to think or write, so all apologies.
I'll get back to it soon, but I am kinda enjoying lazing at home eating junk and watching DVD's...
I watched Life Aquatic, which is amusing as all hell and Garden State, which consequently converted all my testosterone into a mixture/suspension of wide eyed love. Don't get me wrong, an extremely fine film which I enjoyed to no end. I'm just glad I watched it alone - because I got pretty engrossed in it and became a (for the lack of a better word) sissy.

So um, yeah I guess I'll come back with a serious update soon enough. Thanks for keeping your eyes peeled.

Love you all,

ncpx x

Whose Laughin' Now!

Well I've had an interesting night... went to Abe's party which was fab - everyone was happy as larry despite the chatpiece weather. 

Now for those of you who don't know I have a fierce hatred of being tickled. Maybe a phobia of sorts. Either way I'm tenfold more ticklish this side of Elmo, and you should know by now not to tickle me. Consequences may vary... but especially if you're a douchebag haemhorroid grinch, that will not go down well. 

So uh, the person in question starts harassing the shit out of me. Over and over. And obviously I didn't like it - made obvious enough by my pleas for him to stop and get the fk off me. And yeah.  You guessed it! He wouldn't. In fact he just started getting agressive, and so did I. 

It was time for ncpx to get his Jiu Jitsu on.!

So instead of just telling you this story... I'll give you abit of science and something interesting behind it so you aren't left falling asleep and drooling allover the nice keyboard you got from Officeworks the other day. 

downtime and human 404's

Every person has their ups and downs, and obviously some more extreme, 'better' or 'worse' than others (on both ends of the spectrum). Ofcourse, you and I aren't exceptions. 

So having established that everyone, at some point(s) in their life will go through varying levels of downs in their lives, something has been bothering me - and its this;

...The comparison of ones own pain/suffering/depression to that of others and making decisions based off them. ...

Let me try and give you an example for what I mean. I'm just gonna be straight up and say that I've been getting some mean and major downs, for extended periods, over nearly nothing. Mainly just a collection of shit that decides to avalanche at one time, and linger. Nothing unique from anybody elses problems, you might pass as teenage angst anyway. BUT I'm not here to explain myself or my condition or whatever. My point is this: - while feeling like this, I will go through the thought that there are others way worse off than me.

Don't get me wrong. Ofcourse there are. I don't know if I can speak for others when I say this but I've certainly been brought up in a family and a culture where if something bad happens to you, you aren't to sit and reflect over the negative. You're to remember those that are worse off, be greatful for what you have and then just get over it with a head held high. This is especially true in my case - where I really can't explain or have anything immediately identifiable that I can pinpoint to be the cause of downs and depressions. As is often the case with the depression of many (keeping in mind that mental disorders and illnesses often come with no warning or obvious cause). 

In a way, a noble and virtuous idea. A common one at that, don't you think? To be thankful for what you have, and to be unmindful of what you don't. 

Having said that, it in no way makes things better for you. 

What I'm trying to say is this; 

...Why should my pain or suffering mean any less to me or people that care about me because that there are others that have it worse?...

Why should you, or me, or anybody feel like that one's problems deserve to be put on the backburner and ignored because much more terrible things happen to others? 

I've been told that just because you haven't been raped, abused, starving on the streets, been poor, lost your job, been mugged (ETC.) doesn't make your pain or suffering any less terrible to yourself. I find this to be so valid on so many levels. Someone else may doubt the way you're feeling because of its indeterminate nature, but if you sure feel like you're up shit creek without a paddle, then you probably are - no matter where everybody elses signs point. 

And just for some food for thought about an associated issue:- according to the World Health Organisation, depression will be the second highest killer in the developed world next to heart disease after 2010. 1 in 6 adults in the US already suffer from clinical depression, and childhood depression rates rise 24% every year. 

Humans in the developed world may expect to have an average life expectancy of over 100 years old and I don't believe we have to wait long in order to see the artifical reverse or prolonging of natural life. But suppose due to the mental state that the social climate creates, human beings simply will lose the will to live that long?

I'm not trying to say that people will eventually start killing themselves before their statistical time is up on a grand scale. What I'm trying to say is that mental issues and depression is on the rise. It's so common and it may not even be something as obvious as violence and abuse that causes it. It could be our lifestyles, our society, our food AS WELL as the other more obvious causes. 

My final word:- don't belittle your problems, or anyone elses. Fix it now, in ways that you feel are best for yourself. Talk about it, see someone, music - whatever. Just don't feel like you're a nobody because somebody out there actually gives a shit. Including myself .

Things That Destroy ncpx From The Inside - "The Failure 33 Object"

You may or may not have heard of a band called the Red Hot Chili Peppers. If you have read on. If not then I don't know how you access computers under fucken rocks but read on anyway.

John Frusciante of the RHCP makes solo stuff. I don't usually listen to it, but I have a couple of pals that do alot. So naturally I've been made to hear a few stuff out. Not really my cup of tea, but definitely some nice music I could listen to on the occasion.

That is until I was shown

The Failure 33 Object

It doesn't actually have a 'the' title in front of it. But I added it, because it deserves it. It makes it sound like the one and only notorious bowel blastingly cataclysmic 'object' that it is. Yes, it even has a number so you know it's not just ANY failure object.  

So its like how the country Ukraine is actually called THE Ukraine. Ukraine by itself sounds pussy. But when you say THE Ukraine and find it out it means the god damn !FRONTIER!!! then you know that you really shouldn't be fuckin with Ukrain, Ukrainians and it's terrain(..ians) (I'll get back to my raps later)... 

 

Average Ukrainian Male, 8 Years Old

But just incase you aren't quite convinced, allow me to illustrate.

A fine spring afternoon, me and my man Levent are doing a Dominos run to raise our power level, and suppress our hunger.

I realise it's shit. wassup now?

So we're just chillin to the same old music. You know, whatever it is. 

Then it happened. It came on

This musical composition is one crafty son of a bitch. At first, quite lulling and entrancing. A numbing, probing delayed and echoed synthesized arpeggio. 

Intrigued by the riff, I listened on. 

.. and on.

.....and on..

until it was too late.

You remember when Skynet became self aware in the Terminator movies? It wasn't because of Dyson. Fucken FAILURE did it. Skynet is Failure's bitch. The whole arpeggio is actually schematics and code in musical notation form, building upon its self over and over and constructing its own artificial intelligence. Don't beleive me? 
THIS SHIT TURNED UP BY ITSELF.** Because the s.o.b knows that the louder it is the more it HURTS. 

Failure's left nut, magnified x90.

I kicked, I screamed for it to stopped while I clasped my ears and reduced to a foetal position, trapped in a Volkswagen sarcophagus. But it wouldn't stop. It got louder, and louder and relays the same sound over the top of itself over, and over, and over until, this happened.

Thats right, my head exploded. Lev took that on my camera phone, srsly. And before you ask why I'm wearing a fugly yellow shirt, it's because Failure mugged me for my other cool one and gave it to his fucken kids for Christmas. Thats how disgustingly sick he is. He doesn't even need to buy presents for his kids he just jacks people like you and me for our goodies. What a bully!

LUCKILY the pizza came on time, and like the sensou beans of DB I was fed a wholesome thin cheese intravenously , and regenerated my head and decent-shirt again. 

I realise that was alot to digest and so, for every ncpx bane I write about, I will create a brief profile.

THE FAILURE 33 OBJECT - In Brief

Name: The Failure 33 Object

 

The only known photograph of The Failure 33 Object. Gazing into this picture for extended periods of time will most likely put you in a wheelchair.

Age: Aeons. Manifested for the first time on "Shadows Collide With People" February 23, 2004 through mind hijack/symbiotic relationship with John Frusciante after a massive cocktail of cocaine, LSD, rocket fuel and tits (blendered). 

Abilities: Mind hijack / mind probe.

 Artificial intelligence/self awareness

 Excrutiating pain

Description: Lulls the victim into a false sense of security. Victim begins to become entranced and numb by the music. Eventually realising that his/her psyche is being raped, pillaged and looted by a shock squad of caustic techno-bubbles and microprocessors.

Accomplices: Skynet. Fucken, robots. 

Defense Against/Defeating It: Don't allow it to play or build itself. Delete this from your playlists and then destroy your hard drives. Once it plays you are too sprint Carl fucken Lewis style whilst screaming "Jimmy cracked corn and I don't care" at the top of your doomed lungs, in hopes that your mind might forget about it. Though, it is not known whether this is all part of the Object's master plan.

Notes/Remarks: Guys, seriously. This really shouldn't be allowed to exist but it does. I'm scared too okay? 

 

Stranger Danger

Something half interesting has been irking me over past few days.

Basically the idea that a stranger can teach and tell you more about yourself than anyone you have ever known has ever told you in recent times. 

You know how you get those times where you're just feeling bankrupt and void? Pieces don't fit, ends dont meet etc. Yeah pretty much those times where you ask old questions that you want new answers to. And you stay in that mode till you get over it, or until youve got what you were looking for through one way or the other. 

So anyway, I was in one of those. I was just feeling like total shit. Happens right? And through a circumstance I can't quite be bothered to explain, happened to meet a total stranger. So me being me, I spoke to them and spilt guts. They were pretty cool about it, and we spoke and what not. So that doesn't happen often.

But what happened next kinda freaked me out.

This person went on to make a complete observation about me. And told me everything about myself that I suppose already knew, but like I said, when you're in the pits you just don't know things and need some reassurance or new discovery. 

And, it wasn't just six-shooting in the way that you mention the odd trait so that it happens to coincide with yours. No. I'm talkin about a complete "This is what you are like. This is why you are like that. This is what you fear will happen. This is why you fear it." kind of stuff. 

Amused and completely struck at the same time. 

Oddly enough I loved every bit of it. I suppose it's not everyday that strangers can read all over you like a book. I don't consider myself to be a very predictable person and am known to disguise my real feelings pretty well. But, this was just on another level.

As with everything cool that happens. It was short lived, I suppose. But I suppose it just opens your mind? Well, it opened mine anyway. How all of a sudden everything that you turn to, or know, or want to know is completely silent. Yet out of the quagmire of things that don't make sense, someone makes clockwork out of you and you didn't even ask for it. Providence has a funny way of solving things. 

Um, I can explain...

Whats up gangstas?

I've decided to just make a scrap page to write my thoughts and whatever on. To express myself or just to get things out there. 1 reader or 1000 readers, doesn't really matter. I just want to make sure I can express my thoughts and myself in writing.

I'll definitely be taking suggestions/comments and stuff so if you want me to write about a particular something, let me know and I'll see what I can do. This is yours as much as it is mine, because I'm sharing it with you.

Still, that doesn't mean you can come here and screw around with it. Because then I'll just tell you to get the fuck out my office =)

So thanks for reading, and I hope you'll enjoy it and post your comments and thoughts aswell.

Remember to stay tuned! I plan to write more, ofcourse.

Much Love to you and yours, 

ncpx xo