John... Angel of Filth's Blurty|
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John... Angel of Filth's Blurty:
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|Tuesday, September 20th, 2005|
Forever starts tonight.
Why would I post in my Blurty when I have a livejournal?
Because it's there. I guess I missed it. Actually, just looking at this screen - the anachronistic Blurty post screen - is bringing back a flood of memories and increasing my charisma score temporarily.
Amanda wants to learn to play D&D, but she doesn't. She wants to borrow my PHB, but she refuses. Girl is strange. I'm rather almost going out with her, insomuch as she didn't say no last time. It doesn't feel like going out, especially considering that I [oops] Becky last night. I hate myself more than I can reasonably express.
I'm fairly certain no one reads this. I have so much to do today, but I'm not doing any of it right now. *sigh* I guess I'll at least start laundry.
Current Mood: cough
Current Music: Off the Beat - Total Eclipse of the Heart
|Thursday, September 15th, 2005|
Q: How do you know if a woman is lying?
A: Her mouth is open.
|Friday, August 6th, 2004|
There seems to be an unwritten law that every livejournal/blurty user must either have bipolar disorder or have all the symptoms of bipolar disorder but fervently deny that they actually have bipolar disorder.
Worked late today. Decided to go to Discount Hobby on my break and get a Scourge booster pack. Decided before I even got it that it would be a foil Eternal Dragon in it. Unfortunately, I was only half right - the rare was Eternal Dragon, but the foil card was a Noble Templar. Also got the game Freedom Fighters. Was thinking of getting Theif III, but if I had, I'm pretty sure I'd still be playing it right now instead of making a last post before hitting the sack.
Need to plan for tomorrow in the morning. Sleep now.
Current Mood: Achy
Current Music: Lost Prophets - Last Train Home
|Wednesday, August 4th, 2004|
Well... today was a pretty ordinary day. Read a few new posts on George's Blog
. Poor guy. He's so stressed these days.
Been meaning to write more D&D stuff. Prolly Friday night I will. I kinda' know what I'm planning now... I just wish I had a more coherent party. I'm really not sure whether to go urban or rural, intrigue or exploration. Either way, it should be good... if I can just decide! I'm pretty sure my players are the kinds who will accept pretty much any route I decide to go, but I just can choose one. Mostly because when I started I was thinking of running a thieves' adventure, but, right now, that doesn't seem practical. I'll figure something out. I always do.
I need to start over on the text adventure I'm making for Becky. I lost everything when it crashed (damn compy). I need to remember to back up programming. Very important.
Need to call Becky now. Current Mood: pensiveCurrent Music: none
|Wednesday, July 21st, 2004|
So dad's compy goes to hell, ok? So he asks me to fix it, ok? So I can't fix it for a few days because someone has thrown away important papers, ok? Somehow he blames me for this, of course. Naturally, he runs out and buys a new one. The new one is "his" compy, as in "only his". Of course, the first thing he does is demand that I put it together 'cause he can't. And I'm afraid that's all he's getting for free, 'cause I have no intent on giving him any more freebies. He wants some setting changed? He's doing it himself.
Let's see how long his computer lasts without my help. I'll give it two months. Then, it's history.
Mom owed me $190. She said she didn't have it. I said forget it. Two days later dad buys a compy. They had the money... they just didn't want to give it to me. I'm un-forgetting it. No one fucks with me like this. That's not funny. I don't appreciate it.
"Be sure to register all the software in my name". Yeah, fuck you too, old man. You're incompetent. You didn't even consult me. It's an impulse buy. Fuck you. Current Mood: pissed offCurrent Music: Plumb - Send Angels
|Thursday, July 15th, 2004|
Must... bludgeon... Micah... to... DEATH!
Lost my Broodstar. :-( That costs $8. I can't afford to replace it before the tourney. I'll just throw some "Steelshaper's Gift"s in my deck, fill some lightning greaves, cross my fingers, and hope for the best. It's a deck that's worth running, even if it doesn't win.
I didn't end up calling Becky, and now I feel really really bad about it, but I don't want to call because it's late. Most of all, I want Micah to leave me alone tomorrow. Seriously, I really don't want to deal with him at all.
Writing Jer's dream as a story. I'm going to improve on it so that characters that aren't Jer's personas are important. Also so that the battle is far more desperate. It should turn out very well.
|Tuesday, July 13th, 2004|
Haven't slept much lately. Slept really well last night, though. From 4AM to 11AM. Felt pretty good. Now time for bed again. Work sucks. Arms hurt. 130 gallons of water to stock today.
His head itched. It was a nagging sort of itch that doesn't seem worthwhile to scratch, and yet he scratched, and paused, and wondered why it seemed such a troublesome bother a mere moment before. I either need to stop drinking or start sleeping, he quipped to himself as he drank another gulp of coffee from his oversized Dilbert mug. Despite his best effort he couldn't bring himself to do either.
The room had become musty over the last couple of days. The air conditioner overpowered any natural humidity there may or may not have once been.
It wasn't as though he remembered, of course. Frankly, as days passed, he was finding it harder and harder to remember much of anything that wasn't predominate on his mind. He could remember that the DCI banned Skullclamp from Type 2 and Mirrodin Block Constructed Magic tournaments since June 20th. What he could not remember was the password that would get him into his bank account to pay his bills. He was pretty sure it was related to his social security humber, but he couldn't remember whether it was the last four digits, the first 5, or the middle 5 backwards.
At the moment, however, that didn't seem important. The 3 day grace period on his DSL was a good 32 hours from expiring, and frantic masturbation had given him a nosebleed not 6 minutes before. With his head tilted, the blood flowed down the back of his throat, making him ill with its mettalic tang. If he leaned forward, it ran out in a stream of ichor, gagging him with the overpowering sanguine stench. He had struck a happy medium in sitting upright with a tissue stuck as far in his nostril as it would go.
And through this all, the only thing he had accomplished was the recipt of an anticlimatic orgasm at the virtual hands of a semi-professional internet pornstar. Her name could have been Sinn, but he really couldn't picture any mother actually naming their child after a single misdeed, much less conceptual misdeeds in general. It was irrelevant. He hated himself for it. Hated himself for being someone else. Hated that someone else for have unprotected sex in a hotel room with any woman who would be willing to have unprotected sex with a stranger. But the thought had initally been stimulating, and the imagery was convincing at the least.
At any rate, it was all fictional - so far as his participation was concerned - and his arousal had strayed to apathy by the 3rd dispassionate moan. Attractive or not, he wasn't convinced she was enjoying it, and that ruined it for him. Pornography was never his cup of tea anyway.
Technology got him higher than the best sex could hope to, and that was the thrill in it. Not that he was viewing imagery of a naked blonde writhing in the throes of orgasm - but that he had pirated these images. This was his livelihood - piracy. While paralels could be drawn between the young man and the buccaneers of old, they all suffered from one major flaw - Blackbeard wanted his name to be recognized. Francis Drake took pride in his crimes. No... that would not do at all. Silence would always be best. Obscurity was safety. Even bragging in forums was a bold move, not altogether deserving of the glory it tended to award.
But there was still a thrill to it. Still a sense of us-against them. Me against the system. MP3s were hotter than crack cocaine smuggled in the clip of a stolen 357 Magnum, and unregistered software was all but taboo.
That was the point. It was forbidden. As a young man, St. Augustine had fed stolen apples to pigs on the ground that it was forbidden. There was a thrill in doing the wrong thing. Being bad was good.
Um.. that's all I've got in me right now. Mostly because I'm litterally falling asleep on the keyboard right nough. So I m going to go to bed. ;night all.
Current Mood: Not Dead
Current Music: Nena - 99 Red Balloons
|Saturday, June 26th, 2004|
|How to mix a me...
|How to make a ryecatcher15|
1 part anger
3 parts crazyiness
5 parts ego
Layer ingredientes in a shot glass. Add a little emotion if desired!
Got a Mage Knight starter yesterday because it was 30% off. I can get almost the same price on the internet... almost.
Anyway, I was looking at the figures and messing around with them, when I realised one was remarkably
more powerful than the others. 4 clicks worth of regeneration, Thunderstrike, Command... in other words, he was a powerhouse. On top of that, the standard Starter rules suggest that 100 points should be used to build an army. He costs more than that by himself. Well... here he is.
Well, look at that! He's #8 on the top 10 list of most powerful characters in that series. That's not bad considering the series has 130 figures in it, not counting the premium elf archer guy who comes in every starter set. that means my chancers of getting him were pretty slim. Plus, he's an orc, and that's cool. I'm thinking of selling my 7th edition Birds of Paradise card for $8.50. It's not as much as I could technically get for it if I could find a place to auction it off at, but that DOES pay for two booster packs with just one card... but chances are I'll never get another. What I should do is wait until just before the 9th edition spoiler comes out.
Alright... enough geek stuff. I am kinda' sad that the Game Shop is closing down. I guess that their profit margins got cut a lot by competition from Fanfare. Still... I hope John gets another good job that he enjoys.
Aside from that, I've been working on roleplaying stuff on and off and all. It's gonna' be nifty as soon as I get a chance to run some of it. However, I'm finding that trying to keep track of two different campaigns is depressingly difficult. Current Mood: apatheticCurrent Music: Kansas - Dust in the Wind
|Friday, June 4th, 2004|
I've decided I will buy a compy when doing so only consumes half my bank account.
Torn between buying a $470 computer and actually having $470... tough choice.
Being worked WAY WAY WAY too fucking hard to be paid $6.50 an hour.
|Monday, May 3rd, 2004|
Saw a protest photo in the newspaper. It was a lady in front of the IRS building holding up a sign that said "I won't pay for a war in Iraq." Y'know what? That's a great idea! So here I go...
I will NOT pay for your Social Security!
I will NOT pay for your welfare!
I will NOT pay for your fucking tenement apartment!
I will NOT pay for your homeless shelter!
I will NOT pay for your court-appointed lawyer!
I will NOT pay for your Alcoholics Anonymous meeting!
I will NOT pay for your redundant gun control laws!
I will NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT pay for your fucking prescription drugs!
I will NOT
pay for your fucking abortion!
There. Now, I'll pick up the slack on the whole "war in Iraq" thing, you'll pick up the slack on the topics I've raised, and you can SHUT YOUR FUCKING LEFT WING MOUTH THE FUCK UP, BITCH!
Have I made myself perfectly clear? All you people who bitch about the state of our nation can leave! Go to Canada, where the money isn't worth shit! Or Mexico where you can't drink the water! Or France where you aren't allowed to mix languages! Or socialist Spain! Or Norway (which you'll hate because there's NO gun control)! Or how about you shut up and make a real difference? Or at least THINK before you protest! Current Mood: aggravatedCurrent Music: Dream Theater - Lie
|Friday, April 23rd, 2004|
|Tuesday, April 13th, 2004|
Rachel's first email to me - unedited and shit-filled as could be expected:
well, I hope you're happy. You just fucked up our friendship permanently.
[well, I learned from the best]
And I don't mean to sound like a total bitch, no wait, I do,
you are a complete asshole.
[...for taking so fucking long to chew me
I can't beleive that I would be stupid enough to trust you...
[took the words right out of my mouth]
I don't know, my friends have always been important,
[*sarcasm*and you're so good at showing it]
and what they think is important, but I guess a narrowminded prick such as yourself can't seem to see past your own issues.
[*blinks* can you say "projection"? that's right, Rach, you're describing yourself.]
Josh was a hell of a lot better boyfriend than austin ever was,
and he was a shitload smarter than anyone I knew.
Just beucase you're a selfcenter, I always have to be right morron, and josh put you in your place doesn't mean he's a bad person.
So I guess I'm just a little pissed off that you're too damn pissed off with your "oh so shitty" job to stop being a prick even to your own girlfriend half the time.
[of course, this is hypocritical - she's busy bitching about her job and using this as a justification for everything nasty she does]
The fact that you let it bother you that much is just pathetic.
[now what does that make you?]
So don't take your shit out of me anymore. Stop being a fucking pussy.
It's amazing what a hypocrite you can be. You trust your own gut feelings exclusively, and, at the same time, if someone else does so, they're just narrow-minded. You talk shit about people behind their backs constantly, but if anyone says ANYTHING about ANYTHING you care about - behind your back or openly - they're a prick. You wipe your ass with people who care about you until they're so frustrated they just give up on you. You degrade people for being slutty yet you slept with - nay, declared your love for - a guy you had just started talking to 2 weeks ago. You throw shit at people, and get mad at them for throwing it back.
[notice that in her email to me, the content of this paragraph is ignored ENTIRELY. She refuses to acknowledge these statements, but she certainly can't deny them, because they're true.]
I have no idea what you're talking about about Josh putting me in my place. You make no sense. I don't like Josh because he was a jerk to me and my friends, and declared that we sucked
[misnomer... actually he declared that we "deserved to die"]
because we like Mountain Dew and not Tool. Because they find Happy Tree Friends and Sexy Losers amusing and he doesn't. He threatened to hit me with a bo-ken for being a dork with a recorder - without ever asking me to stop any other way, mind you. He snaps at you over eating the last of his pretzels. In short, I had every reason to think he was a jerk.
Another point of hypocricy - if I'm pissed off about my job and inadvertantly let it affect how I treat people, ergo, I'm a prick. Josh is sick and inadvertently lets it affect how he treats you, but it's your fault. You must've been mean to him. The fact remains that you interpret different people doing the same thing for similar reasons different ways.
[Again, Rachel will neither confirm nor deny this statement. She simply ignores it, because it's true, but admitting that would defeat her argument.]
Fine. Everything I ever did for you was to try to help you, and every time you threw it in my face. I tried to get you to take a break from Austin - just to spend some time apart to think - and you attacked me for it.
[of course... at the time she didn't have another fuck-toy]
I try to get you to reconsider how fast you were taking your relationship with Josh (I _never_ told you you should break up with him),
[for the record, I still haven't.]
and I'm a prick. I try to get you to at least stop declaring that he's perfect, and I must be full of shit. Frankly, you've been treating me like shit since before this whole situation began.
[well... more since I got back together with Becky]
The fact is, I'm not angry about Josh. I'm not angry about Austin. I'm angry that you're not the Rachel I met during Catch-22. I don't like you. I liked _her_. She was my friend. She at least pretended to care. She was a completely different person from the Rachel I know now. Let me know if there's a chance she might come back.
Stop talking about my life as if you think you understand it.
[yet another point of hypocricy... she insists in her next email she talks to people and takes advice from them on her relationship with them]
You'd have to talk to me to understand it. You don't. You used to talk _to_ me. Now, you talk _at_ me. Sure, you talk _at_ me about a variety of topics instead of just the constant re-iterations that Josh is good in bed and sexy, but it's still just talking _at_ me.
Don't tell me how horrible I am to my girlfriend. You're a bitch to your boyfriends, but I don't re-iterate it to you.
Don't tell me I'm narrow-minded just because I don't like someone you like. I don't tell you you're narrow-minded for not liking Amy.
[amazingly enough, this is essentially the ONLY thing I say that she responds to directly]
Don't get mad at me for talking about you behind your back. I did it in response to hearing things you say about me behind my back.
[for instance, she berates amy for saying bad things about me behind my back, but, for some reason, neglects to mention she was doing the same thing]
Frankly, I've done nothing to you that you hadn't already done to me.
[You can skip this next paragraph. It doesn't mean anything anymore]
I still love you - at least, I want to. Love is an action, not a feeling. I don't know how to love you anymore. Even when we're not talking about something you're hostile about, you push me away and berate my idiocy and throw me out of your proverbial life. I try to help you. I went out of my way to go to Discount Hobby on a friday - when I'm not normally in Battle Creek - when all the Magic players would be there to try and convince them to buy your cards because I wanted to help you in any way I could and show you that I still cared. You know - or you should - that I would give the shirt off my back for you.
I don't need this. You don't need this. We don't need this. Back off.
Peace and Love,
And her non-sequitur response, which essentially ignores everything I said in favor of making random accusations:
who I was in catch 22 was a little girl trying to have fun with her social butterfly boyfriend. I hated every second of it, which is why austin and I never really got along, why I took my anger out on him.
[no, she did that because she couldn't cope with her own feelings and he never fought back]
I'm not social, I never have been, I hate meating new people, and I hate large groups of them. Who I am now is the person i was before I met austin,
[bullshit... everyone but you insist you have changed. everyone but you say you're different. everyone isn't wrong and you're not right]
albeit a little more self dependent and quite a bit more callous. You don't have to call me narrow minded when it comes to amy, I know I am. You see, I know who I am, I know my actions. I also know that I'm incapable of unconditional love, and once those conditions are gone...
[ok... so essentially, she just confessed that she was only my friend because of what I could do for her... do I really need to explain why this pisses me off?]
I am truly sorry you feel this way, I suppose I'm out a dm and a few friends, but what else is new. You see, I just have this thing about being treated like scum,
[Yeah... you can dish it out, but you can't take it in. and, if I meant anything to you, you wouldn't bother mentioning you're down a dm. Becky and Amy wouldn't. Austin wouldn't.]
had you told me flat out, then I might have thught about it and tried to do something about it.
I take advise about someone from that person, becouse that person knows themselves, at least thats what I asume,
[bullshit... you never care what anyone thinks about ANYTHING or ANYONE.]
but don't ever give me greaf over someone else, because at that point you don't know shit.
[because, y'know... I haven't been exposed to the person, and I haven't ever seen how they treat people or felt how they treat me, therefore I couldn't possibly come to any sort of conclusion on thier behaviour. Wow! I must be the most backasswards person in the world! How did I ever survive without your support? Yes, I'm pretty sure you're going to read this. To be honest, I expect it. I hope it. Because you don't seem to think you've done anything wrong. You think your accusations are grounded in reality, but they're not. You think I'm your enemy, but your enemy is the person looking back at you in the mirror and the stranger you wake up with. If I gave you this kind of shit at any point in your life over ANYTHING no matter what, you would bite my fucking head off. You're a liar and thief, but if anyone lied to you or stole from you, you would be infuriated. Hypocrite. That's all you are.]
[Go on and live your lies, pretend to be happy. Tell yourself that Josh is a good person, and that his upbringing is to blame for his bad behaviour. Better yet, pretend there's nothing wrong with his behaviour. Ignore the fact that there are plenty of better-adjusted people who got through WORSE childhoods. Ignore the way he treats your other friends.]
[Y'know what? That's what it always came down to - whenever you got a new friend, you treat all your old friends like shit because you're certain they'll come back. After all, they always have before.Then, when they don't, you get pissed and indignant. You know what? You're not my friend, and you never have been. You used me in hopes of getting something in return, just like you use all your friends. I only wish I could have seen it sooner so I could have returned the favor.]
BTW... tell me what you think. Was I unreasonable? Anyone? Seriously... if you think I was unreasonable, post a response. Say something. 'Cause I really want to know if I handled this in a way I shouldn't have.
Just in case someone doesn't know the setup, Rachel was talking about how Josh broke up with her, and she said that she was sick of how he'd been treating her, so she decided to talk to him about it. Thus, he blew up at her and kicked her out. I said "Wow... so maybe he's NOT perfect?" and she insisted that it was HER FAULT he treated her like shit. WTF? Then, the next day, the first email arrives.
Gordon will recall how Josh treated us, as will Becky. I rest my case.
Current Mood: insomniac
|Sunday, March 14th, 2004|
"It's like alphabet puzzle soup - it's all there in the bowl, but you'll never get it all on your spoon at once!"
- My description of a nervous breakdown
Drawing down my pale peach flesh
A line of cherry red
For this is how I find release
These tears which I have bled
The razor makes its cunning mark
And gently parts the flesh
To dig for me a hollow trench
from which I can egress
They tell me not to harm myself
They say that it's a sin
But I just want to let them out
These things that I hold in
And here I lie where once I lay
Praying that I won't again
Do what I have done today
Which I do ev'ry now and then
- "Happy Place" by John Heinsen
There's a faecet to my vision
That sees a world tinted red
Just beyond my well-marked boundries
Past where I am freely led
Holding all my deepest secrets
Hiding all I cannot take
Lurking silently in shadows
Waiting for my mind to break
Waiting for its hour of vengeance
When its freedom will arrive
When its bonds will all be broken
To take revenge on things that live
How can you percieve this evil?
Is it in the words I speak?
Is it in the strength I now bear?
Does it escape when I am weak?
- "Lost in Thought" by John Heinsen
Do you see these hands?
These hands are a marvel.
These hands have touched the depths of a human spirit.
These are the hands which have clasped at the very soul of a man.
These hands have wrapped their fingers around his inner strength and resolve
Tugged on its ethereal form
And pulled it to the forefront to present itself
Hands that have spurred men to great things
Hands of power.
These hands have seen the depths of terror
These are the hands which have felt every fear man is subject to
These hands have groped in the Dark places
Fled from unspeakable horrors
And cowered helpless as they were overtaken
Hands that have been left powerless to the mercies of an unforgiving world
Hands of helplessness
These hands have felt for the piteous weeping of dying men.
These are the hands which have healed the broken spirits of ailing nations.
These hands that have reached out to lepers
Sewed their wounds,
And lifted them back to their feet
Hands that have tended the bruises of the infirm
Hands of healing.
These hands have clenched their fists against the strongest of men
These are the hands which have torn sinew from bone
These hands have struggled against a mighty man
Pressed his face the ground
And killed him in cold blood
Hands that have broken the resolve of the greatest.
Hands of conflict
These hands have stroked the hair of the most beautiful
These are the hands which have touched the lips of the most divine
These hands have danced with angels
Made merry with them
And laughed with those who laughed
Hands that have warmed the most hardened of hearts
Hands of love
These hands have pushed away companions and lovers
These are the hands which have shied away from those of their once-beloved
These hands have grasped at heartstrings
Played them gracefully
And discarded them thoughtlessly
Hands that have crushed the spirits of the most innocent
Hands of betrayal
These hands have molded the land to their desires
These are the hands which dug the Euphrates river across the fertile crescent
These hands have molded their world
Revised it to their pleasure
And changed it as they saw fit
Hands that rearrainged their environments on a whim
Hands of creation
I present them to you
A gift if you will
They are yours to do with as you see fit
Yours to strengthen
Yours to weaken
Yours to heal
Yours to harm
Yours to love
Yours to hate
Yours to create
Have I forgotten?...
These hands have crushed what displeased them
These are the hands that laid Pompei to waste
These hands have seen the world grow in strength
Grown jealous of its virtue
And burnt it to cinders with no remorse
Hands that have laid worlds to waste
Hands of destruction
It is the lot of man
To have to destroy
For if he only created
The world would soon fill with his creations
These hands are a marvel
You reach out to touch me
Your own hands
So pure and perfect
Have not touched the things I have touched
Kept dainty and clean
By virtue of your gloves
(But are they better for it?)
- "Hands" by John Heinsen
Maybe I'll post a short story next. I don't feel like talking about my life right now.
|Wednesday, March 10th, 2004|
Returned Rachel's Magic cards yesterday. Pretty uneventful - just brought them to her house and handed them to her. The only thing I think was missing was one Prodigal Sorcerer, which Justin threw up on, but since that's a common that's been reprinted in every base set since Beta, it's no big deal.
Other than that, I haven't really been up to much. Just plain too tired from the play. 'Night all.
|Tuesday, March 2nd, 2004|
Train of Thought...
AngelofFutility: There's no 'I' in 'team', but there's certainly no 'you' in 'iconoclast'
(Jer): Yes there is. You spell it wrong. You should ask Harry the talking monkey to spell it for you. He will spell it with a knife!
AngelofFutility: ... however, there is a 'we' in weapon.
(Jer): And a 'c' in 'cheese'
AngelofFutility: Only a fool would take a cheese key!
(Jer): But what of a cheese key in a lock of gold?
AngelofFutility: That would get your hair greasy.
|Friday, February 27th, 2004|
YOU - by me
All the pain I caused to hide
The pain I knew was mine
To drink the entire ocean
In spite of all the brine
To search within the sea-bed
To find enchanted fish
That beg me to release them
And grant my every wish
And still all of my wishes are just not coming true
Because the only thing I'm wishing for is you
The truth that doesn't matter
The lie is all the same
The one who's the replacement whom
They're asking for by name
He's me and my confession, as if somebody knew,
The only truth I'm pondering is you
Heat of the moment I retriev'd
The fire's dying flame
And held within my heart the warmth -
The embers of the same
Though passion still consumes me, taints my forsaken view,
When the only fire I'm burning for is you
Attend the execution
And sample all the wine
The blood that's on the Ages' lips,
The martyr's blood that's mine
For there is no alternative, so long as this is true
The only one I'm living for is you.
I turned my spirit inside out
And bled my lifeblood blue
And offered all my prayers up
To the angel that is you
And if those prayers are answered, then my teardrops shall be few
For the only thing I'm hoping for is you
The night's pale grasp enfolds me,
I can't seem to let go
The darkness and the moon consumes
The purpose I should know
A moment's respite, a parasite I can't seem to eschew,
The thing that clouds my thoughts tonight is you
I'm inside-out and broken
Contradictions I cannot accept
Things that make my body weak,
Make soul and mind a wreck
Imperfections haunt me and my noble deeds are few,
The one I beg forgiveness from is you
All I can do now is adore you, and wish I were with you,
The one I truly love tonight is you.
The one that I will always love is you.
I hate you...
If you're reading this, I might hate you. If you're not reading this, I'm pretty sure I hate you. If you're reading this but you think I don't know you are, I KNOW I hate you more than you can possibly imagine.
If you're writing this, I hate you.
Current Mood: mopey
Current Music: shit... nothing but shit
|Monday, February 9th, 2004|
Division by 0
I have decided that the only way to have a worthwhile library file, be it C+ or otherwise, is to build it yourself. Preferrably by scratch. I don't think I'll be doing that, but I DO think that it's a tad bit excessive to want to define the theoretical transparency of an object to all the senses, especially considering the copious error messages it results in. So, I'm going to start as close to fresh as possible, starting with only built-in functionality and adding my own. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The point is, programming bytes.
Let me think... what else can I talk about? Oh yeah! No free time. Too busy with Brigadoon for the most part. I need to work on my lines a bit more. I pretty much have them all down, though, so it won't be a problem.
Programming makes my head hurt, but I really enjoy it when it works. Mostly my problems are capitalization... that, and the fact that no one will just tell me how the fuck things work! I get Tutorial after Tutorial but none of them explain the REAL info. They just give examples which do me no good, 'cause I already KNOW how to do those!
Of course, there are a few other things on my mind, but not much right now. I miss Becky for one, but that's a constant unless I'm WITH Becky.