h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

So, here it goes. I am really becoming a human being now. I get to be a part of something that will live on as long as all the other human beings do. I get to contribute to a vast and invincible entity. Mom always told me I should keep a journal, or else I'll forget all the stuff I do. I reckon that if I really, honestly can't remember what it is that I did last Monday with that beautiful girl, then Mom must be right. This simply serves as an opportunity to unleash my thoughts and memories for permanent storage and easy access without having to cut more trees down to make paper and make my fingers ache. How wonderful. My endocrine system trembles with childish delight.
Allow me to describe my current living situation. I come from America. North Carolina, actually, and a rather boring part of it at that. It's not even anything like the setting of Dawson's Creek. Rather lame in comparison. I am not in North Carolina, though. In fact, I am not even America. I am rather far from America and am very happy about that. I'm just about as far from America as I could be, given the current level of technological advancement of Earthlings in combination with my social/business status among them. So I am still on Earth, but in a bit of it much more interesting than North Carolina ever has been. I am in Australia. Tasmania, no less!
Some people might wonder what is so exciting about all of this. Well, when you come from somewhere that it is made a community event to watch the pigs breed, traveling to distant lands is quite thrilling. The main attraction to Tasmania is that it is just so different. I cannot look in any one direction and see any one thing that I would consider to be exactly the same as its equivalent back in the USA. Food, household products, the beach, feet, note paper, beer, CD cases, sports, wallpaper, toilets, ladders, firearms, sea life... nothing is the same. This makes everything quite exciting and new to me, while all my new local friends think I am mad for raving in amazement about how the local phone calls actually cost money here. That still bothers me, by the way. The long distance and international rates are truly something to be adored, but those local calls kill you every month. Sheesh!
The thrill of total immersion into a world of contrast shakes me. I often wonder how I will react to riding in the right side of a car on the right side of the road and how I will wig out when my friend pulls into the imaginary oncoming traffic at an intersection. I slowly, but surely get accustomed to another culture. And when I am used to this one, I shall move to London and be homeless with a lovely guy named Evan. After I become acquainted with every Tube station and every back street, I shall relocate again. Perhaps to Mongolia. I might have to learn a new language for that one. Maybe I can exercise silence during that period. I've never been silent for a terribly long time. It might be a good experience. I have no idea. But that's not the point anyway! The point is that difference is good! I just watched Dead Poets Society a few hours ago! CARPE DIEM!!! I'm beginning to get sick of people conceding. Conceding to their bosses, conceding to their parents, conceding to their teachers, conceding to their fashion magazines, operation manuals, yearbooks, governments, friends, recipes, warning labels, media, favorite authors, etc. I get sick of it especially when I feel myself doing it. I slip. I lose the idea of doing it the funnest way possible.
I have a habit of correcting people's grammar. It seems to me that the purpose of communication is to convey meaning from person to person. When I tell someone else how they should've worded something, I am effectively attempting to limit him and pressuring him to concede. From this day forward, as long as I can understand the meaning coming across, I shall no longer tell them what I think they are supposed to be saying.
I don't make promises. I don't make them because I keep them. I have made a few, and intend to keep them.
My mind boggles at the mention of sadism. I love to mislead people by implying things, but I don't know why. Some people have an unexplainable want to make others suffer some sort consequences that are generally unpleasant. Why? It drives me.
I can't stand the idea of limitation. I believe that the ability of everyone to do anything is very limited. People can't actually accomplish much because they are limited. Everyone has limitations. They are only placed there by the people themselves, though. Limits exist, but only because we make them. Monogamy is a good example. Why is it that people are so sure that it is much better to be with one significant other than twenty? I would much rather be surrounded by people who love me than to be limited to one person. I'm not saying that favorites don't exist. Everyone has their favorites, but that shouldn't stop us from experiencing other things, though. I have a favorite CD, but it isn't the only one I listen to.
We need to find some way of weeding out greed without limiting people from the right to be greedy. Otherwise, we'd be limiting them from greed. I guess we should just teach our kids that it isn't necessary to be greedy to achieve happiness.
Happiness is the only real importance.
I wish I could consider fat people more attractive, but I just can't. I prefer to love everyone, but fat is a big turn-off for me. Everyone is beautiful and unique. I believe that physical love sharing is one of the best (happiest) past times ever invented, but fat people just crush any ideas along those lines that I would have. A lot of the time it's not their fault. A lot of the time it is, but I feel bad for the ones that can't help it.
Hate really pisses me off. We would all be a lot happier if we just decided against it. That's my prediction, anyway.
We should listen to each other and be patient in expressing our agreeing or disagreeing responses. We could spread a lot of happiness if we learn about other people's idea for being happy.
Tradition is a big limitation. It forces people to do what lots of other people have already done, so we never figure out those new ways of having fun.
Mostly Harmless was very sad, but that sort of thing happens, you know?
Whoever you are, you have just learned a bit about me and I hope you can cherish that. Write about it in your own journal.