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Off the Top of My Head
The home page of this Psycho-Babble.

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #1
Click to view the first "Rant" that ran from 6/4/98 through 7/1/98 at the top of Michael's Tripod Homepage. Witness Michael's comments about his page, a little bit about people he knows, and see him mocking that after five years his decision to relearn HTML!

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #2
The second rant, still "BEFORE" Michael decided to rename it the internet version of "Off the Top of My Head". Witness Michael's psycho-babble about absoultely NOTHING! WOO!

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #3
The first official "Off the Top of My Head" on the internet. Oddly enough, the people Michael knows only FROM the internet have offered MONEY for psychiatric treatment after this rant. Wow.

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #4
This sucks, don't click. But the whole point of OTTOMH (sucking or not) is to log all of the thoughts you have, even if they're unemotional and nothing. Alas... Michael hopes to God that he never has to force you all to endure another piece of schlock like this... really.

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #5
Oh my God! They'll kill Michael... some people might have after this, anywayz...

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #6
The current Off the Top of My Head. Michael talks about his defiance and work... or something

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #7
The shame. The tragedy. The pain. The suffer. Aww hell, it's just a bunch of bullshit anyway... Sure to be a classic (honest this time) Michael babbles endlessly, but also has plans to rehash all the bullshit and the... gasp--- BETRAYAL! ooooo... aaaaaa... Don't expect him to talk of ANY of this again as Michael tends to block things out... hmmm

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #8
Ah... Random Musings. How FUN! Join us, won't you?

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #9
Michael gets deep in here... somehwere.

Off the Top of My Head, Vol. V #10
What the hell? There's going to be ANOTHER? Is that boy drunk? Must be that weed all those kids be smoking...

Off the Top of My Head

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Vol. V
#9
9/3/98
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Hi. Welcome again to a world of fun. Today, I'm writing from the --- gasp! FAMILY COMPUTER, which is located exactly one mile South of Hell, and two miles east of God This Place Sucks. I want to be back in my room, but unfortunately I'm running programs on there to FIX my computer which appears to want to just fark with me at this point. If you talked with me at any tonight, you've probably heard me rant for hours on end about stuff, but alas... that's how it is with me. Right now, I can't seem to detemine what type of mood I'm in, but I'll locate it before too long, besides--- it's time for bed soon or something. I'll be gone until sometime MONDAY so, hopefully I won't go completely insane before then... movie when I come back? Anyone? Hello? ... [sigh]... I need to find a way to be a DJ for 107Q's little contest. I'm writing, really I am... They cancelled the Social Today. And I was LOOKING FORWARD to it's modern day matersful SUCKING. Now I get to ask for NEXT Thursday off from work t'boot. Help me. Please? ... For those of you wondering, I've got a belt tied around my neck for no other reason now but to "accessorize", I just don't think I have the idea right... or something... Earlier, I got into an interesting conversation with my "Yeah we're married, no we're not" friend Kris from Washington. Basically, I got off into a good subject and felt like basically posting what I said here as a coherent part of OTTOMH. If you'll notice, my tone is different as I've appeared to have reached a flat and not go completely crazy. Now? The excerpt... or something...:

My fucking computer won't work, my dad's not home. I have a farking Belt tied around my neck. Joanne has to hate me or not feel anything remotely like I do for. My head hurts. I'm going insane. I have GPW stuff to do. I have school work to do. I'm being drug to PCB Fla and don't want to go. My parents owe me money and tell me they don't. My mother needs me to pack for tomorrow. I have a farking PROJECT due tomorrow and GOD DAMMIT.

Yeah...but at least you have your HEALTH.

Actually, I don't have my Health either. I have a deviated septum. I've got 20/2000 vision without my contacts, I've got acne (just a little, slowly dying?). I've got a retainer to wear at night because my teeth were fucked up...

Later... (Kris is gone now. It's back to Michael's RANTS! (still on those subject though)

I wish I could just see what people thought.Like, when I'm at lunch, I'd just like to know what everyone thinks or feels. What they think of themselves and what they think of others... I mean, I'd just like to wonder what Joanne thinks when I look into her eyes. Or what Mary thinks being absorbed in her own little world. Or what Sara thinks talking so fsoftly you lose farking brain cells trying to hear her. Or what Shannon thinks... just in General... knowing the truth and not hiding behind the fabrication of crap that is life. See? It's odd, I know, but I'm just hoping SOMEHOW you see what I mean. It's so wonderfully painstaking to be looked upon as an outcast and still want to have people care for you as you care so utterly and deeply for them. To look into the eyes of a beautiful young lady and get a smile to her face is great, but if she doesn't feel the same magic you do--- what the hell's the farking point? It's hard to explain, really. I just want to KNOW when I make people feel good and bad. I want to KNOW who my friends are. I want to KNOW who could give two shits if I died right now, or even took the belt around my neck as it is and hung myself. Who would care? Would you? Would my parents? Would my brother? Would my classmate? Tim? Joanne? Richard? Minh? Ben? Thomas? Bethany? Would anyone even lose a moments sleep KNOWING that I would never be there again? Those are the kind of things I want to know. I want to know what someone feels around me or because of me, and if I feel good around them or wonderful, or un explicabley wonderful around them, I want them to feel like a fucking Goddess or God around me. That's especially what the poem "Goddess" was written for. You may have to break through the shelter that is my sarcastic and cynical wit and pathetic attempts at sad humor, but after you get through the crap there's a real person in here somewhere, I swear. It's just a matter of whether I'm helping you find me... or if you really want to find it after all.





Okay, I'm back. Now wasn't that fearfully enlightening? Oh no. =O ... Conan O'Brein still rules folks. Thunder sucks ass... Life makes me indifferent... and you all are all I have left... until next time... have a nice day...


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