I confess.....

Post Reply New Topic

I confess that the rules of grammar and punctuation eludes me and it doesn't bother me one bit.

I confess I like girls in hats.

I confess that I often skip long posts. The mental energy required seems to suggest I am too lazy.

I confess I should be working, but I am thinking of going to the beach and looking at posts on the WP.

I confess that I immediatly went back to check my post for grammar mistakes. I confess that I did not find any, but that doesn't mean anything, as my record tonight isn't so great.

I confess that I usually feel compelled to respond a lot to certain threads, and this is one of them.

I also confess that I am drinking coffee in a so far failed attempt to wake up. I confess that although I love the smell of coffee, I really don't like the taste.

I furthermore confess that sometimes I use "really" as sort of, and other times I use "really" as it's normally used.

I confess that since i found this forum I don't feel nearly as "odd" as i used to.

lets see.. i confess i still need to loose weight, be a better baller with the ladies and organize my sportscards collection

I confess I don't know what a baller is after all. I thought it was just somebody who plays basketball. What does it mean?

I confess I am obsessed with school and two days in to a three week break I'm going nuts.

Last edited by Taken on 29 Jul 2007, 9:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.

yes. since im a rapper i like saying it. its too bad white dudes cant get away with saying it irl though

I confess that I'll be hitting the sack, in a couple of hours.

Alright, how to do this... Must balance too long posts with too many posts; will probably cause undue aggrevation in both areas... Must respond to numerous things and people; will probably skip things I would have otherwise responded to in favour of a feeble illusion of brevity... I think I'll do a RainSong roll-up post, and an everyone else roll-up post; I think I'll do the RainSong roll-up first, since I'm behind in that area... I confess I over-analyze everything.

A... compliment. I confess that thought had not occurred to me, and I am utterly complimented by your being complimented by my apparent compliment; but, please, do not compliment me back, or we will likely end up in an infinite compliment loop. I was simply blurting out an observation, triggered by the fact that I seldom run into people who so vividly remind me of myself; and the more you write, the more it seems to be true, which I confess is invoking a rather peculiar mixture of "jubilant" and "freaked-out". I understand you mean what you say; I confess that the thought of your comment being flippant or dismissive did not occur to me until you mentioned it. I find it interesting that you felt the need to elaborate on that.


I confess I might like to hear more about this... some day. I confess I find that I have a longing desire to be able to see into your mind, to see through your eyes; you see things nobody else can see, and this fascinates me. (Please, write more stories.) I confess that we differ here; I do not have visual hallucinations (I don't think?) But I do experience other... interesting effects. I confess you currently hold first place for the most interesting [a subjective term] person I've "met" here, and for this place, that is saying quite a bit [there are so many interesting people here]. I confess I'm utterly astounded by the fact that you are so young [relatively speaking]; you write so... maturely. I confess that with most folks, I'd worry about being perceived as being ingratiating at being so honest; but like you, I simply mean what I say, so I confess I am not really worried about it... Which I confess, feels strange.


I use this as evidence to elaborate on the "freaked-out" feeling... I love cemeteries; I do not know exactly why, but I find... An overwhelming sense of peace there. And... nostalgia? It is hard to describe. But, I am fond of wandering various cemeteries, and seeing what the oldest gravestone I can find is. I will then sit by that grave, and wonder about the person who is supposedly buried there. Who was she/he? What was her/his life story? Does anyone still remember her/him, or visit this grave... I confess I've spent much more time doing this than I should, but I'm not sure what that means. One of these days I'll kick off my long-planned project to take photos of said oldest graves, research the persons buried there, and write a book about them.

I confess, as I feared, I have several other things I wanted to respond to, but I will restrain myself. I confess brevity always seems to elude me, no matter how hard I try. But, at this point I already know Apollo13 will skip my post; if gwenevyn skips it, I will be crushed.

I confess this is quickly becoming my favorite thread here, and it is causing me to fall behind on my lucid/vivid dreams thread.

Good fortune,

- Icarus

Keep talking like this, and Cristi will pwn you.

You study philosophy, psychology, and theology, and this thread confess you? I admit I'm confused by your confusion. It's probalby my fault. No, wait, it's probalby RainSong's fault. No, wait... Yes.

[A brief post!]

Good fortune,

- Icarus

Last edited by Icarus_Falling on 29 Jul 2007, 10:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Fun? CATHARSIS. This thread is about CATHARSIS. Recall when you said you found my posts "disturbing" because they were too "grim"? Fun... I confess you nearly just made my head explode. [Though, yes, I do try to have some fun sometimes.]


I confess that I'm probably a bit heavy on the commas. Though, otherwise, all of my posts are grammatically perfect. [Anywhere where you or anyone else might think otherwise, I can excuse with "style". (Seriously.) ]


I confess that I'm a horrific speller; always have been. I confess that the lack of any spell-checking facilities here is constantly disconcerting to me. I confess that I usually paste my posts into an Outlook e-mail and let the spell check go to town on them. But there are times that I forget to do this, or am in a hurry, so spelling errors creep into my writing. I confess I worry that this will make me look like a dumbass. I confess it is especially embarrassing when I misspell something as some other correctly spelled word [I'm a bit dyslexic], and I later read my post and notice these types of errors.


I confess I'm guilty of long posts, and that I worry about people not wanting to read through them. At least two people here have already, uh, complained, that I "ramble". I confess that this does not surprise me, but it does haunt me a bit. I confess I feel very good whenever someone actually reads through one of my long, rambling posts and responds to it positively. I confess that even my long, rambling posts are usually only about a 10th of what I'd really like to say. Language is so... cumbersome. I confess I often wish I was telepathic because of this.


I confess I hope you have some interesting dreams, and that I hope you post about them in my dreams thread. I confess I wish others would do the same; but I'm not too worried, since I can keep that thread going all by my lonesome if I have to.

Finally, an out of band confession... I confess I'm really worried about my new MySpace friend. She seems, very, very depressed, and I really wish there was something I could do for her. I confess I don't think (?) she's anyone I really "know" from the WP, but I could be mistaken; she hasn't told me anything beyond that she found my MySpace page here on the Wrong Planet.

Good fortune,

- Icarus

i confess ive always wanted to fart in my hand and throw it in my moms face. or anyones face for that matter, it would be very funny!

I confess I do the same. I confess that I over-analyzed whether or not I should respond to that comment.



Ha. I confess that I'm awful in the area of compliments because I feel I have to return them over this medium. (In real life I often don't know what to say, and I've learned over the years that people complimenting you on your hair (or some such thing) don't want to be complimented back, as this apparantly makes it seem false.)

I confess that I would have read the serious/silly comment as being dismissive (ie, that your story was worth no more than the light hearted joking here) and that would have offended me. I confess that I didn't mean it like that, and I don't like offending people, so I felt I needed to post the disclaimer.



I confess that my mind isn't such a great place to be, as there's always a part of me that seems to be hell bent on being negative (and most times ruining whatever I'm happy about), and I rarely agree with myself.

I also confess that my hallucinations aren't that cool. Sometimes they're actually rather annoying; it's hard to sleep when sound and static is everywhere, and it can't be muffled. Likewise, non-existant shadows can't be dissolved by light.

I confess that I'm interested in said "interesting effects" you experince.

I confess that I know several people around here who are more interesting than I am; outside of having an odd mind and odd habits, I'm quite dry.

Thanks. I confess that I can be immature, but I really don't like to be.

I also confess that I see no reason for you to be ingratiating; thus, I would never suspect it.



I confess that the graveyard I usually visit doesn't have anyone buried there past the late 1800s; I confess that I am slightly uncomfortable in fairly recent cemeteries. I'm quite sure that no one still mourns for those in the historical ground, but I'm quite unsure that the person in the recent has been forgotten. I feel instrusive standing by the recently dead; instrusive of their loved ones' grief, instrusive of the rituals, instrusive of the decaying. I wish not to mar the memories of those still remembered, even if no one else will know.

I confess that they recently took down the sign on the old cemetery that said, "Restoration In Process" and I quite miss it. For awhile, everyone in town believed that that was what RIP actually stood for.

On a sidenote, I confess that I nearly did some serious damage to my left hand fingers about an hour ago. I was trying to take the blades off of the electric knife; for whatever reason (probably because I was thinking a million miles away), unplugging it did not occur to me. I put my fingers on the blades (the sharpened side too) so that it wouldn't hit the counter when it was unlocked, but instead of hitting the "eject" button, I hit what turned out to be the on button. My fingers were literally less than an eight of an inch away from the sharpened, serated part. Thankfully, my reflexes turned out to be better than needed, and I wasn't hurt... But Good Lord, the stupidity involved in that was incredible.

I said I was interested in psychology...I didn't say I was a psychologist.

I confess that I have not been to confession in a few weeks.

I confess this made me laugh. It's probably both of our faults.