Far away on a silver skein;
the mirror of your dreams.
Pack away the precious things,
the memories of your past.
Sail along the silken road
searching for the truth.
Destroy the threads of reality;
the secret hidden inside.
Learn to taste the waters,
the flavours of the sky.
Find the truth of reality
in the old sea-turtles cry.
Far away on a silver skein;
the mirror of your dreams.
Pack away the precious things,
the memories of your past.
Walk upon the sunken floor,
the history of the earth.
The shifting tides of eternity
measuring your worth.
Glitter of the floating shell
drifting in the breeze,
to tell the truth of a melody,
look among your dreams.
Far away on a silver skein;
the mirror of your dreams.
Pack away the precious things,
the memories of your past.
Just pack away the treasured things,
the fragile memories of your past.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's half a song, since I've got the tune in my head, but stuffed if I can put notes to it. Since I kinda can't play anything, nor read sheet music, or write it for that matter. Not like I've got anything to pluck out the notes on -anyways-....
But still, I think it's nice. Just came to my head while I was waiting for the bus to go to ....somewhere. Ah-ha! the city. To buy a book, and get money out to pay my rent. Wrote it on the train, and bus. So it's all good.
Opinions people?
~ShaedowDancer~
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Thursday, 11 September 2008
Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
I am so happy at myself!
Okay, update. I am now out of my mother's house, and living on my own, kinda. It's an awesome deal. So that's all good.
Also, today, I bought a tv, dvd player, a stand for the two to rest on, soap, suitcase, headache tablets, milk and yoghurt. Guess the damage?
suitcase = $10
soap = $1.59
headache tablets = $2.something
stand = $20
tv= $99
dvd player = $39
So all told, around $170
which I think, was absolutely fantastic. ^_^ A steal! So, I am very, very happy.
Okay, update. I am now out of my mother's house, and living on my own, kinda. It's an awesome deal. So that's all good.
Also, today, I bought a tv, dvd player, a stand for the two to rest on, soap, suitcase, headache tablets, milk and yoghurt. Guess the damage?
suitcase = $10
soap = $1.59
headache tablets = $2.something
stand = $20
tv= $99
dvd player = $39
So all told, around $170
which I think, was absolutely fantastic. ^_^ A steal! So, I am very, very happy.
Sunday, 17 August 2008
The Theater
It was dark in the cinemas, but that's not really the right word. Cinema is like the meaning of industry, or a building complex. It brings to mind grey chairs, set in rows on dull blue carpeting with those little flakes of colour, as though someone had shaken sprinkles out onto the blue in an attempt to lighten it, but all it really does is make the blue seem more dull, more grey, more industrialised. Lastly, a massive screen at one end of the room, infront of all those rows of grey, generic chairs, and voila, there is a cinema. Moderately well lit, impersonal, lifeless, just one of a million.
This wasn't a cinema, it was a theater. This had scarlet carpeting, maroon chairs, set in rows, but curved towards the 'stage', where the screen sat, taking up the entire front of the room. There was an upper balcony, where more seats were set, above the lower rows, sectioned into four. There was beige painted murals carved into the woodwork of the ceiling, curtains covered the walls, and the walkways were lit with small lights. This was something alive, built from an era when you went and sat in those cramped rows to see a play, when movies where half an hour long, silent, and something of a treat. When the very act of going to the theater was a social occasion, not a spur of the moment decision. It wasn't well lit, it didn't have generic bulbs set into the walls, the ceiling, no, it had rectangular boxes to mimic the holders of a torch in a medieval castle, giving a murky, shadowed light at best.
A lone individual walks into this atmosphere, the murky, old-seeming lighting, blue jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt that says 'your village called, they want their idiot back', a backpack over one shoulder. She -- definitely a she, with breasts pressing against the white cotton, and the curve of her hips within the jeans -- scans the seating before turning and leaving, ascending the stairs to that upper balcony, to see what it felt like sitting where the 'upper crust' would have sat. She sat, leant back in the chair, listening to the imitation classical music with a few lyrics thrown in here and there, not particularly interesting ones, that came from everywhere, and nowhere in particular. It was dark, close, almost claustrophobic or comforting, enough to encourage a doze, and it was empty, from her brief scanning gaze.
She starts to drift off, the soft music, not very riveting, lulling her into dozing, leaving her ignorant -- she's just an average person after all -- and deaf to the soft brush of fabric against the soft felt of one of the seats, the quite whump of a footstep, followed by a couple others as a darker shadow in the murky, isolated lighting moves down the row. Sleep, so soft, soothing, and close, beckons seductively.
A soft thing startles her out of the beckoning arms of sleep, at first, she is unaware of what it was that changed, and she frowns for a few moments, before sitting up, still not seeing the shadow almost at her back. Ah, now she realises what it was that disturbed her, the music was no longer playing. Strange, the previews hadn't started. It was as though for those few seconds, the world had stopped.
She was still confused when a leatherclad hand reaches around from behind the seat, closing over her mouth, another braced against the side of her head, and the soft leather of the cowhide covered hand slides off of her mouth, grips her jaw, she has time for a shrill scream, building to the crescendo but never getting there, cut off abruptly with the harsh crackling of her neck being broken. She is left to slump against the chair, head resettled, staring eyes closed.
Not so empty after all.
This wasn't a cinema, it was a theater. This had scarlet carpeting, maroon chairs, set in rows, but curved towards the 'stage', where the screen sat, taking up the entire front of the room. There was an upper balcony, where more seats were set, above the lower rows, sectioned into four. There was beige painted murals carved into the woodwork of the ceiling, curtains covered the walls, and the walkways were lit with small lights. This was something alive, built from an era when you went and sat in those cramped rows to see a play, when movies where half an hour long, silent, and something of a treat. When the very act of going to the theater was a social occasion, not a spur of the moment decision. It wasn't well lit, it didn't have generic bulbs set into the walls, the ceiling, no, it had rectangular boxes to mimic the holders of a torch in a medieval castle, giving a murky, shadowed light at best.
A lone individual walks into this atmosphere, the murky, old-seeming lighting, blue jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt that says 'your village called, they want their idiot back', a backpack over one shoulder. She -- definitely a she, with breasts pressing against the white cotton, and the curve of her hips within the jeans -- scans the seating before turning and leaving, ascending the stairs to that upper balcony, to see what it felt like sitting where the 'upper crust' would have sat. She sat, leant back in the chair, listening to the imitation classical music with a few lyrics thrown in here and there, not particularly interesting ones, that came from everywhere, and nowhere in particular. It was dark, close, almost claustrophobic or comforting, enough to encourage a doze, and it was empty, from her brief scanning gaze.
She starts to drift off, the soft music, not very riveting, lulling her into dozing, leaving her ignorant -- she's just an average person after all -- and deaf to the soft brush of fabric against the soft felt of one of the seats, the quite whump of a footstep, followed by a couple others as a darker shadow in the murky, isolated lighting moves down the row. Sleep, so soft, soothing, and close, beckons seductively.
A soft thing startles her out of the beckoning arms of sleep, at first, she is unaware of what it was that changed, and she frowns for a few moments, before sitting up, still not seeing the shadow almost at her back. Ah, now she realises what it was that disturbed her, the music was no longer playing. Strange, the previews hadn't started. It was as though for those few seconds, the world had stopped.
She was still confused when a leatherclad hand reaches around from behind the seat, closing over her mouth, another braced against the side of her head, and the soft leather of the cowhide covered hand slides off of her mouth, grips her jaw, she has time for a shrill scream, building to the crescendo but never getting there, cut off abruptly with the harsh crackling of her neck being broken. She is left to slump against the chair, head resettled, staring eyes closed.
Not so empty after all.
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Wacked dream
I haven't mentioned my dreams for a while, so here's one that I had last night, a pearler.
I don't remember how the dream started, but the bit that I remember clearly, was that I needed to get out of this city, but didn't have any money. So a friend of mine took me to this boat thing -- the city is entirely on the water, and it is -very- rare that you need to go on land, so all the automobiles are types of boats, sort of like a jet ski -- and to get money, you slap your hand against where the glove compartment would be infront of the passengers seat, and it would open, extending a digital solid scrabble board. Out the bottom of this is a teeny keyboard, and you type your name into it. You hit enter, and it'd flash and then set into the board. Beside that, a little cup thing would seeeep out and down, open hinge like, and coins would drop into it, depending on the letters in your name depends on what coins you get. Like the common letters, a, e, s, n, and so on, would get a copper coin, l, g, m, and the like would get silver, and the rare letters, x, y, u, z, would get gold coins. A mesh bag would wrap up your coins and you'd take them out, then the board would retract back into the dash. That's how you got your funds.
And then there was a dream jump to a school oval/mall area, me and a male friend, as well as an older female supervisor -- for some reason we were wanted criminals -- had to wait outside on the grass for a while. I found a sandy patch, and first I started drawing things, then I started digging a hole. It was elbow deep before she said we had to go, and she told me that I had to make sure that the sand on top of the hole matched the rest of the sand, they tended to get annoyed if it didn't. So then we went into the mall, building thingy, and one entire SECTION was devoted to ice cream and desserts. He went off to get what he wanted, I was given coins to buy a piece of fudge for the overseer lady, so I did that, but then I had about three, four dollars left over, so I got myself something. It was in a bowl, it was like, 'candy' choices. There was hollow candy, rare candy, and blonde candy flavours. Three scoops, so the rare candy would be vanilla, strawberry and banana, the blonde would be banana, caramel, and carrot or something. So I got one, and pocketed the fudge. Walking outside, she came to me and asked for the fudge, panic! what did I do with it?! I checked my pockets and there it was. I handed it to her, she took a bite "It's cold" before throwing it away.
For some reason, I had to drive a van and it was parked like RIGHT against a wall. Van|wall close. I was like "great parking, how the hell'd the driver get out?!" So I had to crawl in the passenger's side and settle behind the wheel. While this was going on, the supervisor was talking to the other guy, and they screamed 'Gryphon!' just before a really badly wounded one fell onto the van, the beak was at the drivers side window, tapping on the glass when it passed out. "Quick! To the hospital!" shouted the guy, while buckling up.
Dream jump.
160km/h down the road, and I wake up. No idea how I got there or anything, but suddenly in control of a speeding vehicle, swoosh around the corners, spray up of water, trying to keep the unconsious bleeding bird thing from falling off of the van. Then he said, the guy in the passenger seat "Could you worry less about braking and more about stoppign?" and I was like, huh, why? and then the hospital was right THERE. we careeened through the doors, skidding down the hall while I'm like STOOOOOOOOOP!!!! crash.
When we came too, the gryphon was gone, but there was a puddle of blood, we had minor wounds. He went off one way, I went wobbly off the other, and found an icefooty rink. Like normal football (Aussie style that is) Except all the atheletes had to iceskate to do anything. And the 'good guys' were losing because the star player had broken his leg (he was the gryphon, I knew completely that it was the gryphon, but it wasn't, he was human) but it got fixed, and couldn't see. So someone eventually gave him some glasses. Massive things, that took up half the face, a -OO- style, but the round lenses overlapped slightly. And then he wa slike 'yay I can see!' and they won.
And then I decided to wake up.
Walking out of my room my mother just appeared before me and started tugging at my clothes, gesturing, asking if it fitted alright, oh yeah, it does, is it comfy? And I'm like ...huh...? Ice...foot...oh. Pyjamas. Right.
And that is my night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Side note, I've got 'witch doctor' stuck in my head, from the record thing. Like, old school music.
'I went to the witch doctor, he told me what to say, I went to the witch doctor, he told me what to do, my friend the witch doctor, now I'm telling it to you! He said 'ooh ee ooh ah ah, ting tang walla walla bing bom. That's oooh ee ooh ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bom!'
-_- I got it stuck in my head int he middle of my shift at work. I'm like whaaaaaayyyyy?! And how the HELL did it get there?! Lets just face it, friday was one RANDOM day.
I don't remember how the dream started, but the bit that I remember clearly, was that I needed to get out of this city, but didn't have any money. So a friend of mine took me to this boat thing -- the city is entirely on the water, and it is -very- rare that you need to go on land, so all the automobiles are types of boats, sort of like a jet ski -- and to get money, you slap your hand against where the glove compartment would be infront of the passengers seat, and it would open, extending a digital solid scrabble board. Out the bottom of this is a teeny keyboard, and you type your name into it. You hit enter, and it'd flash and then set into the board. Beside that, a little cup thing would seeeep out and down, open hinge like, and coins would drop into it, depending on the letters in your name depends on what coins you get. Like the common letters, a, e, s, n, and so on, would get a copper coin, l, g, m, and the like would get silver, and the rare letters, x, y, u, z, would get gold coins. A mesh bag would wrap up your coins and you'd take them out, then the board would retract back into the dash. That's how you got your funds.
And then there was a dream jump to a school oval/mall area, me and a male friend, as well as an older female supervisor -- for some reason we were wanted criminals -- had to wait outside on the grass for a while. I found a sandy patch, and first I started drawing things, then I started digging a hole. It was elbow deep before she said we had to go, and she told me that I had to make sure that the sand on top of the hole matched the rest of the sand, they tended to get annoyed if it didn't. So then we went into the mall, building thingy, and one entire SECTION was devoted to ice cream and desserts. He went off to get what he wanted, I was given coins to buy a piece of fudge for the overseer lady, so I did that, but then I had about three, four dollars left over, so I got myself something. It was in a bowl, it was like, 'candy' choices. There was hollow candy, rare candy, and blonde candy flavours. Three scoops, so the rare candy would be vanilla, strawberry and banana, the blonde would be banana, caramel, and carrot or something. So I got one, and pocketed the fudge. Walking outside, she came to me and asked for the fudge, panic! what did I do with it?! I checked my pockets and there it was. I handed it to her, she took a bite "It's cold" before throwing it away.
For some reason, I had to drive a van and it was parked like RIGHT against a wall. Van|wall close. I was like "great parking, how the hell'd the driver get out?!" So I had to crawl in the passenger's side and settle behind the wheel. While this was going on, the supervisor was talking to the other guy, and they screamed 'Gryphon!' just before a really badly wounded one fell onto the van, the beak was at the drivers side window, tapping on the glass when it passed out. "Quick! To the hospital!" shouted the guy, while buckling up.
Dream jump.
160km/h down the road, and I wake up. No idea how I got there or anything, but suddenly in control of a speeding vehicle, swoosh around the corners, spray up of water, trying to keep the unconsious bleeding bird thing from falling off of the van. Then he said, the guy in the passenger seat "Could you worry less about braking and more about stoppign?" and I was like, huh, why? and then the hospital was right THERE. we careeened through the doors, skidding down the hall while I'm like STOOOOOOOOOP!!!! crash.
When we came too, the gryphon was gone, but there was a puddle of blood, we had minor wounds. He went off one way, I went wobbly off the other, and found an icefooty rink. Like normal football (Aussie style that is) Except all the atheletes had to iceskate to do anything. And the 'good guys' were losing because the star player had broken his leg (he was the gryphon, I knew completely that it was the gryphon, but it wasn't, he was human) but it got fixed, and couldn't see. So someone eventually gave him some glasses. Massive things, that took up half the face, a -OO- style, but the round lenses overlapped slightly. And then he wa slike 'yay I can see!' and they won.
And then I decided to wake up.
Walking out of my room my mother just appeared before me and started tugging at my clothes, gesturing, asking if it fitted alright, oh yeah, it does, is it comfy? And I'm like ...huh...? Ice...foot...oh. Pyjamas. Right.
And that is my night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Side note, I've got 'witch doctor' stuck in my head, from the record thing. Like, old school music.
'I went to the witch doctor, he told me what to say, I went to the witch doctor, he told me what to do, my friend the witch doctor, now I'm telling it to you! He said 'ooh ee ooh ah ah, ting tang walla walla bing bom. That's oooh ee ooh ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bom!'
-_- I got it stuck in my head int he middle of my shift at work. I'm like whaaaaaayyyyy?! And how the HELL did it get there?! Lets just face it, friday was one RANDOM day.
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
I have precognition! Eets skeeery O.x
MSN conversation.
Balketh just sent you a nudge.
*
Balketh says: <--- Him
BAH!
Balketh says:
Fricking stupid button
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says: <-- me
gah
Balketh says:
I was gonna say I found an awesome new webcomic (Not really 'new', but new to me.)
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
lol
Balketh says:
It's shweet...
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
www.zapinspace.com <--- spooooooky
Balketh says:
O_o
Balketh says:
How the FUCK did you know that?!
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*grins*
Balketh says:
Seriously, foregoing all smilies, that's the fucking scariest finishing of a sentence I've ever fucking seen.
Balketh says:
I'm creeped right the hell out now.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*giggles*
Balketh says:
Can you explain to me, please, how you did that?
Balketh says:
Did I tell you of it, and forget?
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
I'm telepathic
Balketh says:
Did you tell me of it, and I forgot?
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
or more accurately, precognitic.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
hehe, no, I didn't tell you of it.
Balketh says:
>_>
Balketh says:
Seriously, that's the worst case of co-incidence I've ever seen.
Balketh says:
>.<
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
haha
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
because it wasn't coincidence
Balketh says:
The HELL it wasn't!
Balketh says:
Don't freak me out like this!
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
what's you're problem?
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
Scared of ESP and stuff like that? :P
Balketh says:
YES.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
why?
Balketh says:
Well, not really 'scared', but just this case if fucking freaky.
Balketh says:
>.>
Balketh says:
its*
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*patpats*
Balketh says:
If you're really telepathic, etc, then the only thing I am is as jealous of you.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*laughs*
Balketh says:
Remove the as.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
For years, my dreams have become the evening news
Balketh says:
I'm going to not believe that, and not believe anything like that from anyone who can't prove it to me.
Balketh says:
It seriously freaks me out too much.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
hehehe
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
y'know, that wasn't the first time I've gotten inside your head :P
Balketh says:
Yeah, I know.
Balketh says:
It's just, that was very, very coincidental.
Balketh says:
I was about to give /you/ the link.
Ooooooh, spooooooookieness! Teehee, he's really freaked now.
Balketh just sent you a nudge.
*
Balketh says: <--- Him
BAH!
Balketh says:
Fricking stupid button
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says: <-- me
gah
Balketh says:
I was gonna say I found an awesome new webcomic (Not really 'new', but new to me.)
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
lol
Balketh says:
It's shweet...
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
www.zapinspace.com <--- spooooooky
Balketh says:
O_o
Balketh says:
How the FUCK did you know that?!
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*grins*
Balketh says:
Seriously, foregoing all smilies, that's the fucking scariest finishing of a sentence I've ever fucking seen.
Balketh says:
I'm creeped right the hell out now.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*giggles*
Balketh says:
Can you explain to me, please, how you did that?
Balketh says:
Did I tell you of it, and forget?
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
I'm telepathic
Balketh says:
Did you tell me of it, and I forgot?
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
or more accurately, precognitic.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
hehe, no, I didn't tell you of it.
Balketh says:
>_>
Balketh says:
Seriously, that's the worst case of co-incidence I've ever seen.
Balketh says:
>.<
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
haha
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
because it wasn't coincidence
Balketh says:
The HELL it wasn't!
Balketh says:
Don't freak me out like this!
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
what's you're problem?
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
Scared of ESP and stuff like that? :P
Balketh says:
YES.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
why?
Balketh says:
Well, not really 'scared', but just this case if fucking freaky.
Balketh says:
>.>
Balketh says:
its*
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*patpats*
Balketh says:
If you're really telepathic, etc, then the only thing I am is as jealous of you.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
*laughs*
Balketh says:
Remove the as.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
For years, my dreams have become the evening news
Balketh says:
I'm going to not believe that, and not believe anything like that from anyone who can't prove it to me.
Balketh says:
It seriously freaks me out too much.
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
hehehe
There is a saying; Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, but today is a gift -- that's why they call it the present says:
y'know, that wasn't the first time I've gotten inside your head :P
Balketh says:
Yeah, I know.
Balketh says:
It's just, that was very, very coincidental.
Balketh says:
I was about to give /you/ the link.
Ooooooh, spooooooookieness! Teehee, he's really freaked now.
Thursday, 24 July 2008
My day out!
Yay I had a day out! That wasn't either work or university XD Which reminds me, it starts next week, joy of joys, yay for getting up at half past sparrows fart. -_-
Anyways, I went out today, and saw a couple movies and bought some stuff. It was fun.
No you silly people! That's not the entirety of my post, you KNOW I'm more verbose than that. Sheesh, what were you thinking?
First and foremost, I have to say this as it's really ironic, I don't know if he does it deliberately, but Xin -- friend of mine, mentioned previously of those that recall him -- seems to have all these wonderful friends that I get along REALLY WELL with. Seriously. Lee, Leigh, however she spells her name, is a whole 147.5cm, which is around 4'10" for those of the american persuasion. So little! Wonderful sense of humour, bright and bubbly and effervescent. I never thought I'd use that word to describe someone, but there you have it. She's got shoulder length brownish hair, about half a foot shorter than me (as mentioned), fair-skinned, and yeah. We got along really well, I feel kinda bad in retrospect, I mean, she's -his- friend after all, and we kinda y'know...sort of made him a third wheel. Oh well.
We went to a couple stores together, he introduced me to JB Hi-fi, which is AWESOME. An electronics store that offers almost as great a variety in cds, dvds, and games as Borders does books! It even has a section for the multimedia devices, ipods, mp3 players, cd players, cameras and earphones etc. As such, we went back to it, and I bought a couple dvd's, Hercules, A Knights Tale, Jekyll (it's a series, VERY good, I've mentioned it previously) and Tales from Earthsea -- an anime. Out of the four, there's only one I'm a bit wary about, and that's the anime. It will most likely be of good quality, granted, it's from ....eboch or somehting, studios, the son of a really good anime writer etc made it, buuut... the Earthsea series? the books? Nooot that great, I found. Perhaps I just couldn't get into them.
Anyways, the first trip was only brief, as we had a movie to catch. Hancock, starring Will Smith. Now, I know people have raved over it yadda yadda, but in all honesty it wasn't that great. Not totally horrid, but not that great either. Limited backstory, the reason explained away by the main characters 'amnesia', which was a rather shoddy excuse, I would have enjoyed the backstory, even if it was flashback. So, without giving too much away, I will say this -- worth the price of admission (around $12), but not the price of buying it. See it in cinema's or rent it if you're too slow, but as a permenant member of your DVD collection? No thankyou.
The second movie I saw, The Dark Knight, a batman film with Heath Ledger as the antagonist and I forget who was the protagonist (batman), but, it wasn't bad. Not great, but neither that bad. Some good CGI (I liked the way his motorbike comes out), and the special effects were pretty good, but the overall plotline? Not that great. Some -great- quotable lines in there, and unforeseen quirks of the storyline, but it was kinda mostly predictable. One of the lines I love;
"Madness is like gravity," (this was from the joker while he was strung upside down, courtesy of a bat-string) "All it needs is a little -push-."
So yeah. This, rent, buy, or see in cinema. The end was lovely, if unexpected, and it almost made me cry. :( BUT! I won't spoil it for you, so go and see it for yourself.
Lets see...what else...
Nope. I think -- oh!
I've grown! I'm slightly taller than I was last time I saw Xin hehe. Rather than him being about two inches taller than me, he's now half an inch. whoo! Go me. Go go go me.
Yes. Now I'm done.
Smile, it confuses people -- what have you been doing?
Anyways, I went out today, and saw a couple movies and bought some stuff. It was fun.
No you silly people! That's not the entirety of my post, you KNOW I'm more verbose than that. Sheesh, what were you thinking?
First and foremost, I have to say this as it's really ironic, I don't know if he does it deliberately, but Xin -- friend of mine, mentioned previously of those that recall him -- seems to have all these wonderful friends that I get along REALLY WELL with. Seriously. Lee, Leigh, however she spells her name, is a whole 147.5cm, which is around 4'10" for those of the american persuasion. So little! Wonderful sense of humour, bright and bubbly and effervescent. I never thought I'd use that word to describe someone, but there you have it. She's got shoulder length brownish hair, about half a foot shorter than me (as mentioned), fair-skinned, and yeah. We got along really well, I feel kinda bad in retrospect, I mean, she's -his- friend after all, and we kinda y'know...sort of made him a third wheel. Oh well.
We went to a couple stores together, he introduced me to JB Hi-fi, which is AWESOME. An electronics store that offers almost as great a variety in cds, dvds, and games as Borders does books! It even has a section for the multimedia devices, ipods, mp3 players, cd players, cameras and earphones etc. As such, we went back to it, and I bought a couple dvd's, Hercules, A Knights Tale, Jekyll (it's a series, VERY good, I've mentioned it previously) and Tales from Earthsea -- an anime. Out of the four, there's only one I'm a bit wary about, and that's the anime. It will most likely be of good quality, granted, it's from ....eboch or somehting, studios, the son of a really good anime writer etc made it, buuut... the Earthsea series? the books? Nooot that great, I found. Perhaps I just couldn't get into them.
Anyways, the first trip was only brief, as we had a movie to catch. Hancock, starring Will Smith. Now, I know people have raved over it yadda yadda, but in all honesty it wasn't that great. Not totally horrid, but not that great either. Limited backstory, the reason explained away by the main characters 'amnesia', which was a rather shoddy excuse, I would have enjoyed the backstory, even if it was flashback. So, without giving too much away, I will say this -- worth the price of admission (around $12), but not the price of buying it. See it in cinema's or rent it if you're too slow, but as a permenant member of your DVD collection? No thankyou.
The second movie I saw, The Dark Knight, a batman film with Heath Ledger as the antagonist and I forget who was the protagonist (batman), but, it wasn't bad. Not great, but neither that bad. Some good CGI (I liked the way his motorbike comes out), and the special effects were pretty good, but the overall plotline? Not that great. Some -great- quotable lines in there, and unforeseen quirks of the storyline, but it was kinda mostly predictable. One of the lines I love;
"Madness is like gravity," (this was from the joker while he was strung upside down, courtesy of a bat-string) "All it needs is a little -push-."
So yeah. This, rent, buy, or see in cinema. The end was lovely, if unexpected, and it almost made me cry. :( BUT! I won't spoil it for you, so go and see it for yourself.
Lets see...what else...
Nope. I think -- oh!
I've grown! I'm slightly taller than I was last time I saw Xin hehe. Rather than him being about two inches taller than me, he's now half an inch. whoo! Go me. Go go go me.
Yes. Now I'm done.
Smile, it confuses people -- what have you been doing?
Saturday, 19 July 2008
I just have to share this.
Sometimes, I wish I wasn't a soft, squishy marshmellow inside. I'm yet to stop crying from this.
Christian the Lion.
The last bit I don't agree with, the whole, get in contact with someone today etc, that irritates, but the rest...*sniffs* so sweet.
That lion totally doesn't remember them. Totally.
What would it be like, to have an affectionate cat twining around your ankles, except that his shoulder is at your waist? Staying upright with the normal domestic cat is enough of a struggle...but my god, how awesome would that be to have a LION demanding the same attention? *cries more*
Christian the Lion.
The last bit I don't agree with, the whole, get in contact with someone today etc, that irritates, but the rest...*sniffs* so sweet.
That lion totally doesn't remember them. Totally.
What would it be like, to have an affectionate cat twining around your ankles, except that his shoulder is at your waist? Staying upright with the normal domestic cat is enough of a struggle...but my god, how awesome would that be to have a LION demanding the same attention? *cries more*
Monday, 2 June 2008
Slaughter the World
Credits go to 'Looking for Group' webcomic it would seem, Youtube, Blindferret Entertainment, Ryan Sohmer and someaudioguy.blogspot.com.
and the words!
Excitement abounds
I almost can't wait
Relax, I don't want your baby
I already ate
Though I do tend to generally kill
Kill things that don't fight back
I see this village
What does it hold?
What shall I butcher them with
Fire or cold?
Running from me sure you'd think
'He's a pathological bloodthirsty homicidal maniac!'
I'd kill kittens and puppies and bunnies
I'd maim toddlers and teens and then more
You see a wife? I see a widow
But what then?
Can't you see?
I'd kill four!
I want to incinerate and decapitate
I want to melt
Want to melt some faces
Watching the peasants...what do they call it?
Ahh...grieve!
I suppose that being undead there's not much to life
A soul is needed for loving...feeling...
How does this all not make me...what's that word again?
Heave!
You've nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run
Your village will burn like the heart of the sun!
With infinite glee
It's going to be me
That slaughters the world!
How could I glare into these eyes
And then not stab them?
How could I stare at their loss
And then not laugh?
I'd cut him in half
Then I'd graft
His head back onto his shoulders
Or after I'd lop it
I'd make a puppet
On top of a staff!
I am a lord
that is sometimes bored
Have some urges and need to fulfill them
After my mayhem I simply don't...what's the word?
Care!
The stench in the air
The smell of the gore
The carnage far greater than any war
My legacy
Death becomes...me!
I'll slaughter the world
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah yes, I think this is funny, and wonderful, and...Hehe, I can see myself so totally taking this on as my motto or something.
'with infinite glee
it is going to be me
that slaughters the world'
Ah...bliss. ^_^
and the words!
Excitement abounds
I almost can't wait
Relax, I don't want your baby
I already ate
Though I do tend to generally kill
Kill things that don't fight back
I see this village
What does it hold?
What shall I butcher them with
Fire or cold?
Running from me sure you'd think
'He's a pathological bloodthirsty homicidal maniac!'
I'd kill kittens and puppies and bunnies
I'd maim toddlers and teens and then more
You see a wife? I see a widow
But what then?
Can't you see?
I'd kill four!
I want to incinerate and decapitate
I want to melt
Want to melt some faces
Watching the peasants...what do they call it?
Ahh...grieve!
I suppose that being undead there's not much to life
A soul is needed for loving...feeling...
How does this all not make me...what's that word again?
Heave!
You've nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run
Your village will burn like the heart of the sun!
With infinite glee
It's going to be me
That slaughters the world!
How could I glare into these eyes
And then not stab them?
How could I stare at their loss
And then not laugh?
I'd cut him in half
Then I'd graft
His head back onto his shoulders
Or after I'd lop it
I'd make a puppet
On top of a staff!
I am a lord
that is sometimes bored
Have some urges and need to fulfill them
After my mayhem I simply don't...what's the word?
Care!
The stench in the air
The smell of the gore
The carnage far greater than any war
My legacy
Death becomes...me!
I'll slaughter the world
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah yes, I think this is funny, and wonderful, and...Hehe, I can see myself so totally taking this on as my motto or something.
'with infinite glee
it is going to be me
that slaughters the world'
Ah...bliss. ^_^
Sunday, 1 June 2008
A couple jokes that I think are good...
Websters Dictionary definition of Windows 95 -
Windows95: n. 32 bit extensions and a graphical shell for a 16 bit patch to an 8 bit operating system originally coded for a 4 bit microprocessor, written by a 2 bit company, that cant stand 1 bit of competition.
Ridge Hall computer assistant; may I help you?"
"Yes, well, Im having trouble with WordPerfect."
"What sort of trouble?"
"Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away."
"Went away?"
"They disappeared."
"Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Its blank; it wont accept anything when I type."
"Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"
"How do I tell?"
"Can you see the C: prompt on the screen?"
"Whats a sea-prompt?"
"Never mind. Can you move the cursor around on the screen?"
"There isn't any cursor, I told you, it wont accept anything I type."
"Does your monitor have a power indicator?"
"What's a monitor?"
"Its the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when its on?"
"I don't know."
"Well then, look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Great. Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if its plugged into the wall."
"... ...Yes, it is."
"When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"
"No."
"Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable."
"... ...Okay, here it is."
"Follow it for me, and tell me if its plugged securely into the back of your computer."
"I cant reach."
"Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"
"No."
"Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"
"Oh, its not because I dont have the right angle - its because its dark."
"Dark?"
"Yes - the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window."
"Well, turn on the office light then."
"I cant."
"No? Why not?"
"Because theres a power outage."
"A power... A power outage? Ah, Okay, we've got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?"
"Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."
"Good. Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from."
"Really? Is it that bad?"
"Yes, Im afraid it is."
"Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"
"Tell them you're too stupid to own a computer."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, you have to love the idiots of society. I bet the caller was all righteous and indignant that the 'words went away' too.
Oh, lets all hear it for working from 3pm until 12.30am. Hip hip hurrah, nine and a half hour shift. No break. Hip hip Hurrah.
Windows95: n. 32 bit extensions and a graphical shell for a 16 bit patch to an 8 bit operating system originally coded for a 4 bit microprocessor, written by a 2 bit company, that cant stand 1 bit of competition.
Ridge Hall computer assistant; may I help you?"
"Yes, well, Im having trouble with WordPerfect."
"What sort of trouble?"
"Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away."
"Went away?"
"They disappeared."
"Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Its blank; it wont accept anything when I type."
"Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"
"How do I tell?"
"Can you see the C: prompt on the screen?"
"Whats a sea-prompt?"
"Never mind. Can you move the cursor around on the screen?"
"There isn't any cursor, I told you, it wont accept anything I type."
"Does your monitor have a power indicator?"
"What's a monitor?"
"Its the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when its on?"
"I don't know."
"Well then, look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Great. Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if its plugged into the wall."
"... ...Yes, it is."
"When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"
"No."
"Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable."
"... ...Okay, here it is."
"Follow it for me, and tell me if its plugged securely into the back of your computer."
"I cant reach."
"Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"
"No."
"Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"
"Oh, its not because I dont have the right angle - its because its dark."
"Dark?"
"Yes - the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window."
"Well, turn on the office light then."
"I cant."
"No? Why not?"
"Because theres a power outage."
"A power... A power outage? Ah, Okay, we've got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?"
"Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."
"Good. Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from."
"Really? Is it that bad?"
"Yes, Im afraid it is."
"Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"
"Tell them you're too stupid to own a computer."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, you have to love the idiots of society. I bet the caller was all righteous and indignant that the 'words went away' too.
Oh, lets all hear it for working from 3pm until 12.30am. Hip hip hurrah, nine and a half hour shift. No break. Hip hip Hurrah.
Thursday, 22 May 2008
A Summers Evening and an Autumn Morn.
(Read the post 'On a Summers Day' first. Then this one'll make ALOT more sense.)
The body was Andrew McPhearson, the child, one Julie Andrews, and enither were the same. One, obviously, went to the morgue to be identified by dental records-- that's all they could use -- the other went catatonic, in order to save itself the mind rejected the cruel world around it and created one of its own devising.
Outwardly she was a silent, simple girl, no interest in interaction of any sort, she ate when forced to and broke her mothers heart by refusing to look at her, but through, always through, fixed on some distant point where crimson-black blood pooled, where dark blow flies droned and the sickly sweet scent of decay filled the air, where all the noise in the world couldn't break the shattering silence of an unvoiced scream.
The media behaved as it is wont to do, flocking and fluttering, scavenging and prying, delving sticky fingers into badly healed -- barely begun to heal -- wounds and pulling the ugly, foul, tittilating bits to a harsh and unforgiving spotlight. As expected, the summers day, bright with life, was replayed, repeated, displayed in a thousand different ways until public opinion deemed the entire thing a hoax, just some family's craving to be on television.
Never mind the shattered family of the deceased, never mind the previous happy, healthy child driven to seek her own world. Neve rmind the anguish the fluttering, craving, prying, uncaring fingers -- and eyes -- of the media caused. It was all a hoax, a plot, a conspiracy, a trick.
The medias loss of interest was a blessing that came too late -- too late for Andrew's family to have the required privacy to mourn, too late for little Julie, who having to relive, and then witness it from a dramatised perspective, listen from a thousand different mouths -- why would anyone desire to remain in such a heartless world? So little Julie refused to make even the little progress she had out of her self-imposed prison, retreating in so far that she barely had any desire to eat, each mouthful swallowed was a hard won victory.
Life went on, as its wont to do, two months passed, three, and the media forgot about Julie Andrews and Andrew McPhearson. Summer changed to Autumn, dusky and brown from bright gold.
It was a crisp Autumn morning, the mist was clinging to the ground and every breath fogged in the air. The scent of winter was in the air, it was a taste on the back of the tongue, crisp, icy, chillingly close with the illusionary softness of snow. Rosy-cheeked from the cold, laughter and playing in the piles of fallen leaves, the child, a little boy, six or seven, ran behind a tree, out of his parents' concerned and watchfully indulgent gaze. All was well.
A peircing scream split the air. Followed by two more, then naught but helpless, hopeless sobbing.
Rushing to look, the mother added her screams to the shattered peace, before dropping to her knees to embrace and rock her sobbing son.
Strung out between two trees in a crude X, head lolled back in the limp, absolute relaxation of the dead and unconsious, was another body.
(Warning for those with tender stomaches, it gets graphic)
The skin, rather than removed completely, had been peeled back to expose the muscle and sinew beneath. Strung out, stretched thin by fish-hooks through the nearly transparant flesh, the light shining through, illuminating veins, capillaries, arteries, trails of brilliant red -- fire-engine red -- blood trailed down from the wounds, slowly seeping lower with each painful second.
The internal organs had been painstakingly, lovingly, removed and strung out, netted and woven among the branches of the two trees, the metres of intestine almost braided, intricate, lace, the stomach caught in the dark grey webbing. The lungs were pulled out of the chest cavity, the ribcage pulled open like some glistening, banded, red and white butterfly, the sternum cut clean through. The heart stretched out, the lungs likewise exposed, two pink sacks hanging, stretched in the air. In this mass was the body, the skin a backdrop for the macabre web, where the own internal organs were the bands that trapped the 'fly'.
It was too cold for the flies, so their droning swarm was absent, no moving black tide of hungry bodies swarming, moving, writhing over flesh and skin alike. The blood dripping, slowly seeping down the skin to plop ever so slowly onto the dry leaves was still wet, still fresh, still warm, still flowing. The strung out, web-captured body jerked and a helpless, hopeless whimper of pain sounded, silencing the sobbing into a gasp of horrified shock.
"Oh Dear God, it's still alive!"
The body was Andrew McPhearson, the child, one Julie Andrews, and enither were the same. One, obviously, went to the morgue to be identified by dental records-- that's all they could use -- the other went catatonic, in order to save itself the mind rejected the cruel world around it and created one of its own devising.
Outwardly she was a silent, simple girl, no interest in interaction of any sort, she ate when forced to and broke her mothers heart by refusing to look at her, but through, always through, fixed on some distant point where crimson-black blood pooled, where dark blow flies droned and the sickly sweet scent of decay filled the air, where all the noise in the world couldn't break the shattering silence of an unvoiced scream.
The media behaved as it is wont to do, flocking and fluttering, scavenging and prying, delving sticky fingers into badly healed -- barely begun to heal -- wounds and pulling the ugly, foul, tittilating bits to a harsh and unforgiving spotlight. As expected, the summers day, bright with life, was replayed, repeated, displayed in a thousand different ways until public opinion deemed the entire thing a hoax, just some family's craving to be on television.
Never mind the shattered family of the deceased, never mind the previous happy, healthy child driven to seek her own world. Neve rmind the anguish the fluttering, craving, prying, uncaring fingers -- and eyes -- of the media caused. It was all a hoax, a plot, a conspiracy, a trick.
The medias loss of interest was a blessing that came too late -- too late for Andrew's family to have the required privacy to mourn, too late for little Julie, who having to relive, and then witness it from a dramatised perspective, listen from a thousand different mouths -- why would anyone desire to remain in such a heartless world? So little Julie refused to make even the little progress she had out of her self-imposed prison, retreating in so far that she barely had any desire to eat, each mouthful swallowed was a hard won victory.
Life went on, as its wont to do, two months passed, three, and the media forgot about Julie Andrews and Andrew McPhearson. Summer changed to Autumn, dusky and brown from bright gold.
It was a crisp Autumn morning, the mist was clinging to the ground and every breath fogged in the air. The scent of winter was in the air, it was a taste on the back of the tongue, crisp, icy, chillingly close with the illusionary softness of snow. Rosy-cheeked from the cold, laughter and playing in the piles of fallen leaves, the child, a little boy, six or seven, ran behind a tree, out of his parents' concerned and watchfully indulgent gaze. All was well.
A peircing scream split the air. Followed by two more, then naught but helpless, hopeless sobbing.
Rushing to look, the mother added her screams to the shattered peace, before dropping to her knees to embrace and rock her sobbing son.
Strung out between two trees in a crude X, head lolled back in the limp, absolute relaxation of the dead and unconsious, was another body.
(Warning for those with tender stomaches, it gets graphic)
The skin, rather than removed completely, had been peeled back to expose the muscle and sinew beneath. Strung out, stretched thin by fish-hooks through the nearly transparant flesh, the light shining through, illuminating veins, capillaries, arteries, trails of brilliant red -- fire-engine red -- blood trailed down from the wounds, slowly seeping lower with each painful second.
The internal organs had been painstakingly, lovingly, removed and strung out, netted and woven among the branches of the two trees, the metres of intestine almost braided, intricate, lace, the stomach caught in the dark grey webbing. The lungs were pulled out of the chest cavity, the ribcage pulled open like some glistening, banded, red and white butterfly, the sternum cut clean through. The heart stretched out, the lungs likewise exposed, two pink sacks hanging, stretched in the air. In this mass was the body, the skin a backdrop for the macabre web, where the own internal organs were the bands that trapped the 'fly'.
It was too cold for the flies, so their droning swarm was absent, no moving black tide of hungry bodies swarming, moving, writhing over flesh and skin alike. The blood dripping, slowly seeping down the skin to plop ever so slowly onto the dry leaves was still wet, still fresh, still warm, still flowing. The strung out, web-captured body jerked and a helpless, hopeless whimper of pain sounded, silencing the sobbing into a gasp of horrified shock.
"Oh Dear God, it's still alive!"
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