There's a new /777/ up, it's /selfhelp/ -
You're Pathetic, We're Pathetic, We Can Do This! Check it out. Suggest new
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Welcome to /eh/
Where everything is just... eh...
/eh/ is not for crying, /rnb/ is for crying.
The music is from the Tenpenny Tower lobby in Fallout 3.
Hello my fellow 7channers! I need to ask for a favor, this board may become very grim very quickly but I think you will feel this is worth looking into(I'm looking at you anonymous and other vindicators)
Recently a dear friend has come under the fire of a set of recluse trash bins who's names I have yet to determine, but more information will be included.
I request for a call back to the times we united, for for you to lend me your ear, please respond if you show interest(TOO INTERESTING)
Do any Johns know the origin of this picture? I see it all the time, everywhere.
I think you misunderstand the purpose of this board, johnathan.
That looks like a photograph from National Geographic, John. Those penguins looks so happy.
After we die, do you think we or anyone you know ever will meet again?
>>45234And on top of that, infinite time with everyone. Comforting thought John.
Have you ever considered the possibility of a sort of cyclical unwavering life-death continuum, John? Perhaps you'll be forced to meet the same particularly uninteresting people over and over again in infinitum. Entertaining the thought makes you glad you can't remember life before birth, eh John? Imagine all those terribly monotonous interactions the second time around. I don't know about you, John, but it fills me with almost deafening indifference.
Well, John, I don't think I know anyone too well. When I see my dearest friends, oh I laugh to think of some of the antics of long ago that we used to take part in. Oh, John, long gone are the days when my friends and I would cruise around the least desirable neighborhoods in my fine city to steal bumper stickers off of cars and start small fires. The passion burned in our hearts and in the trash cans of those less fortunate than us. Ah, the days of long ago that I yearn for. The nights that would drift into mornings. The passionate discussions about death. Ah, John, I appear to be distracted. Please accept my most earnest apologies for this small departure into my life, for I reflected on my friends from years ago.
Oh, John, we die a thousand deaths every day as we change. The person I was those years ago, those happy years fueled by a passionate love of electronic music, does not exist anymore. Friends change over time and their old personalities die, too. Alas, one minute my closest friend and I discussed how we would always be together making music and partying. We discussed how he would show me the finest watering holes our fair city had to offer when I turned twenty one. A few months before my twenty first birthday, we parted in the most awful way two friends can. We fought bitterly and, I daresay next time we see each other in this life we shall come to blows.
My rather long winded anecdote must now come to a close. My point is that we are always changing, John, and in a certain sense, death already happened to us since we are not the people we were four years ago, and four years from now we shall morph again. The butterfly emerges from her cocoon, the baby matures into the adult, and love comes and goes along the way.
Hello John, Nice to see you again. How do you like your coffee? I enjoy mine with cream and sugar every morning. It's nice to have consistency.
Well, John, I do not drink coffee. I prefer espresso. I take my espresso black and very, very strong. Espresso is easier on the stomach since one can drink less and achieve the same desired effects.
Have you tried butter in your coffee, John? Sometimes I will put a little bit of butter in my espresso. It is a nice addition. On Sundays, I will celebrate by adding some condensed milk for a dulce de leche flavor.
>I do not drink coffee. I prefer espresso.
And how exactly do expect me to read your post any further, John?
I don't drink coffee either, my stomach is too weak for the stuff.
But I love that smell of fresh coffee, if I see people drinking it I'll try to sit close to them
I was worried that I wouldn't have the time and motivation to finish my assignment on mental health. Then, I was told my friend commited suicide. Now I'm motivated. I think the universe was giving my what I asked for in the same way evil genie's grant wishes the way you don't like. This keeps happening in different ways I think.
Yeah, I would take that as a pretty good sign to clean up your shit, john.
Correlation is not causation, John. That being said, Good luck on your assignment, mental health is a seriously misunderstood mistress.
On a similar note, I seem to get motivation out of witnessing my peers struggle with or fail at the same task that I've been given. I think it is a remarkable flavour of schadenfreude.
, Colonel Sanders and Alice Cooper.jpg
I started drinking coffee recently. I always had a small measure of completely irrational pride for not having needed to drink it but it does wonders for giving me energy in the mornings. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this.
it's an acquired taste:
1 cup of espresso
--I powder-grind and use paper filters in my espresso machine. The ideal is opaque and without grit.
1~2tbsp cocoa powder
1 pack ginseng drink powder
1 pack kale drink powder
flush with another glass of water.
Marmite in coffee is surprisingly good, but you have to use a very small amount.
I've begun main lining mine recently, John. I feel as though it really puts the lead in my pencil.
This board is pretty alright I guess
Yeah, it's okay.
Seems like a place to be.
I have an Aunt Diane, John. Do you have any aunts or uncles?
Well, John, thanks for asking. As a matter of fact, I do not have the distinctive pleasure of having any aunts or uncles, owing to the fact that my mother, bless her heart of hearts - the heart that I still remember fondly to this day, is an only child. Oh, much were the days ma-ma would confess that she longed for a brother or sister to play with while we dined in the warm, summer evenings. The warm weather contrasted with her cold moods, but, ah, when ma-ma would free herself of these petty anxieties we would celebrate with an extra helping of, oh..what was it...ah yes...delicious peach ice cream served from a crystal bowl in the shape of a young Negro's head.
My father, well John, that is a rather personal matter for himself and myself, but I do think that you have won my confidence on this fine Spring day, so I may share with you a most dreary story. My father and his sister had a horrible relationship. Yes - it seems odd to think of now, for a brother and a sister should never have the distinct misfortune of missing out on familial love, but in the case of my father - she accused my grandfather the Great Duke of Heatherton Chestingwood, and indeed an honorable man, of molestation so abrupt that she distanced herself from the family never to be heard from again. She only exists in my idle speculations from day to day, as I now find myself in a room of my study looking out over the snow capped rooftops of this wonderful city sipping my tea. Perhaps we shall meet some day, but alas, I have not had the pleasure of making her acquaintance and her countenance has remained a mystery to me for many years now.
I have so many it is hard to remember their names. But they are a great family, never a dull moment at the reunions.
I do, but my family falls somewhere between >>45297 and >>45295. My mother had two siblings, a brother and sister, both of whom have divorced and remarried. My maternal aunt has children by her first husband but not the second, while my maternal uncle has children by his second wife but not the first. On my father's side things are complicated.
My mother's family is strongly protestant and constantly growing.
For reasons unknown to me my father appears to have ben excommunicated by his siblings, but not disowned by his parents. I can not know for certain how many siblings he has, if they married, divorced, or remarried, nor how many paternal cousins I may have as I have never met any of them and my father is as unwilling to discuss the matter as they are.
I was here in 2012, now I'm here again in 2016.
What goes around comes around, I think.
At least you have stable, predictable life.
Well John I must say you have maintained a certain degree of consistency.
Good rythmes and soft times
Thank you too John, I appreciate it.
I have my days planned out to the minute. For instance, at 10:47 am, I take my first break. It takes me two minutes to walk from the back door of my work to my car, and two minutes to walk back, so my break is actually more like 11 minutes. I like taking my break at 10:47 because I can leave my car at 11:00 exactly and still be back in the building on time.
Does anyone else do this?
Time doesn't exist, John. Clocks do.
I wish I could have that in my life John.
No schedule ever works out for me. It would always take me more or less than two minutes to make that walk, and never the exact two minutes. It wouldn't matter what time I left my car, I'd arrive at the building late unless I skipped the break entirely. I'm so jealous it's almost depressing.