Why Impoverished Observers Have Exceptional Difficulty Contributing

Why I Haven’t Been a Good Contributor, Period.

Honesty has its virtues, but…you’re probably not going to like this. But before I start, I want to say that the last post was humiliating.  But necessary. My standards are above me.  I’d be glad to invite someone else here.

As the saying goes: in life, alter the world the least.  Or something like that.

But I’m a “rebel.”  And I pay the price for pointing out to the other children that the “9 with a line over it” is a freakin’ underlined-‘6’ — rotate the card!  But the boy in front of me refused to see that.  It could of been the other way around.

I was five.  Add stature disparities and accidentally walking into an occupied bathroom. It was the time when my “super-conscious” anxiety started.

What I Wanted To Say

To those who haven’t been satisfied with my blog

(To Everyone)

Appreciation

My thanks goes out to all those three people who’ve written comments in these three months here, as well as the followers that aren’t here to simply promote themselves.  (I will say that Pattrick Latter’s photography is some of the best I’ve seen on WordPress.)  So, to Jason, Amy, and…Olive Ridley—someone from India that may’ve already unfollowed like “Dan” (I’ve no idea, writing this offline)—all of you have made me feel not completely alone.  Thank you.

I can never get enough done in a day, but I’ve been saved so many times with these delays and glitches, and would have missed out on a lot of informational opportunities—the entirely of October 13, for one, not to mention coming off worse online.

Trouble

The recent minor earthquake was a reminder that I have to get my priorities straight.  Another reminder to get thine behind into shape.  I know it sounds redundant but I don’t expect to live past 2012, like many people.

You have the hot-war going on, the soon-to-come World War III once Jerusalem is divided, and the pending sh*tstorms in the U.S., regarding weather and week/month-long blackouts.  On the East coast of the United States winter is going to be harsh: hail, ice, snow—you name it, feet of it.  So I find I must act even faster, do even more.  The attempt to beat the clock, even if people think I’m not doing anything.

In poverty myself, I’m reduced to reminding others to stock up on canned goods.