But seriously, would it kill these people to maybe learn when it means to be decently grammatical, or at the very least to spell words in a way which doesn’t send shivers down my spine & send me into nervous lapses, screaming colourful phrases like “No! That letter doesn’t go there!”, or the one I use the most, “Don’t they know that the word is a homophone”? I mean seriously, for fuck’s sake! If you’re old enough to be able to use Myspace, blogging sites like this fine place, email & the whole cohort of internet tools for information dissemination , you’re old enough to know that words like shoes do not have an apostrophe in them & that it is not necessary to end all of your posts with xXx, XoX, or <3 (which I have to admit is a tiny bit cute, but no!, it won’t lure me in!). 

So even though probably only my closest friends will read this, & I’m then essentially adressing the wrong audience, since they’re all too busy HanGin with lyke they’re BESTEST frends, I want you to consider the points I have put forth in this post. I want you to consider anyone you know who has fallen prey to this diabolical affliction & remember that it is not too late for them. You can help them through this difficult time. It may take a little while, but just imagine how satisfying it will be when you realise that your loved ones do in fact know how to communicate at a level above that one would expect from a seven year old.

While you any unfortunate readers of this massive rant-orgy are still here, I’d like to mention a few other issues which serve to seriously compromise the sanctity of society today. Yes, I’m talking about those bastards who talk on their mobile phones as if they were trying to reach a small child trapped at the bottom of a well ( & yes, I am thinking about the Simpsons, but shush, it’s been a long day). I almost wish I could,without making myself appear as utterly mad as they do, vent the frustration I feel because of their lack of consideration for the rest of the people in the carriage. Sadly, for me & the rest of the poor souls in the carriage, the raucous conversation of the offender is only reflected in the mutual glares many of us adopt, which quickly fade as we realise their futility. The fluctuation of such deserved resentful looks is as disheartening  as the coming & going of blossoms in a time lapse video. Good things never seem to last long enough.

God I hate those arseholes. But  I know, it’s they who need to hear that, not you. Since I go to Sydney quite frequently this is a regular problem for me. You cannot even estimate the number of times I have longed to shriek “Are you serious? Do you not realise that we have now progressed to a level of technology where one does not need to scream like a banshee to be audible to the listener?.”

On a similar note, why does it not occur to certain, deranged individuals that there may be a slight possibility that not everyone in the train will enjoy being bombarded by the pitiful music they happen to revel in? Personally, I must admit felling slightly underwhelmed by machismo-driven boom-boom rap “music” detailing the exploits of “bitches” & ” “hos”, & all the other tired chliches of that genre. A lot of people who don’t know me have criticised me in the past about supposedly listening to emo music & similar things like that, especially in when I have criticised “music” like rap that they seem to have a moral duty to defend. That they criticise my image & the music that is emo are both understandable, though at the present & as far as forseeablein the future, the latter & the former share no connection. Yes emo music is for the most part whiny, repetitive & often of petty subject matter (much like R’n'B). However, at least unlike people who enjoy rap, listeners of this music generally don’t feel the need to assert their masculinity or use it to dominate females, nor do they assume a racial stereotype which they would probably just as soon discriminate against. It irritates me that for centuries, the white world has done little more than to treat blacks & their culture with rapacity, yet now their music is consumed conveniently & black celebrities are glamourised, while no correlation is made to the suffering that the rest of the race encounters. I guess for a lot of people, listening isn’t what it is for me. Maybe I’m overanalyzing what music means to other people.

Point essentially being, it is often that damn rap that is played on trains at a volume way over any acceptable level in a public area. I know I sound like a grumpy old woman who is lonely, senile & hasn’t gotten any for several years ( & hey, with the anonymity of the internet, I might just be!) but Christ, would it kill these people to get some earphones & enjoy their music without making me feel like I’m so enraged I’m going to have a stroke? The same goes for the other, slightly less frequent, techno genre. If I wanted to torture myself, I would do it in the comfort & privacy of my own home. Keep your listening to yourself & I’ll do the same.

If you don’t already know me personally there may seem little for you in that which I do come up with, but if you have time, I implore you to read on. Ideas are shared amongst people who are vastly different. You might realise that though you do not know me, you know where I am (figuratively. If you literally do, that’s just uber-creepy!)