
Created @ MindSay 
Why life is so uncertain, why when we sleep we sleep as if we know, all about our world in which we are, and then when we wake up in the morning, something has been so drasticaly changed..why u wake up in an alien world....
I am sad, and may be thus I am tired, I just am so angry at myself that sometimes, I feel as if I cannot control the anger on myself, Its frustrating to be helpless, Its frustrating to be see things u most cherished pass by you, and u cannot even give it a last shot to catch it...U know its too late and with the fear that you will never have that one most cherished dream of your ever again, in your hands.....
I donot know, how people and books say, wake up to a new day everyday, Is it really possible..Is it really possible to do a shift delete and erase what pain you were going thru yesterday....
I know, Its my fault that I am standing here but then the randomness comes into play, you do somethings and then somethings happen, I never thought some of things can take gori shape when the picture is hazy, u start taking a tree as the most scary thning you hav ever seen...
Haziness is what i have created around me all my life, never let the clear view peep to others, and thus I was all perception some thought me as a tree and some as a ghost, but i never bothered, I never even stopped to clear it, I guess I was too happy in my own hazy world......
And today, in that haziness, I am suffocating, I want to get out, I want to show my real self, I want to be me, but now, I am stuck in that haziness, as It was my fate My destiny....I want to shout to let know my presence , that i have a feeling which has always been clear, which has always been the most beutiful sunrize in my hazy world...but I am numb canot speak..too scared...
I donot want all it..I want to come out...I want to breathe...I want to live......
Dixie currently feels:
Flattened
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie currently looks like this:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today it seems I have been in a very odd mood.
Not only have I created several wonderful pieces of creative awesomness, laid on my bed and taken random photos of objects in my room, wrote several paragraphs of gushing and emotive prose - I've also been playing on my Playstation again.
On the way home, I started getting an urge to play Spyro 2 and Crash 3.
I recently started Crash 2 again, a few weeks ago - and got stuck at 95%.
Which is typical, considering I overwrote my 100% save from when I was TWELVE.
Urgh, I just sneezed all over myself.
Tee hee, I hit the space bar.
It's all sticky.
Why does sneeze smell weird, anyway?
...Either way.
I came home, made myself some Turkey Jetters and sat down to play some solid Spyro 2.
Within one and half hours, I already managed to scrape together 39%.
I'm in the 2nd world now, Autumn Plains, with every single level in the 1st world, Summer Forest - completed with all gems, all orbs and all talismans.
I laugh at their feet.
Their feet are made of one single polygon.
Ah, the days of the blocky 1999 graphics.
But I don't care about graphics, it's all about gameplay.
This is my Playstation.
I actually have two, one is chipped and one isn't.
On the chipped one, I only play The Misadventures Of Tron Bonne. - Which is awesome, might I add.
That is my non-chipped Playstation, and it's almost 12 years old.
It's been repaired once, when the centre circle that holds the discs in place cracked into little pieces.
One of the ball bearings fell down underneath the laser.
It makes it rattle when you move it.
To the left, you'll see the stack of games I took down from my carefully organised shelves, the games I plan to play in the next few days.
Crash Bandicoot 2
Crash Bandicoot 3
Spyro 2: Gateway To Glimmer
Bust-A-Move-4
Final Fantasy VII
Under my controller is a stack of printed guides for a lot of different games, along with the official FF7 stategy guide, and a freebie walkthrough booklet for Crash 3.
The wire on that controller has a cut in it.
You can see all the wires on the inside of the plastic coating.
I don't think it's safe, but it still works...
For the moment, anyway.
Here's a little Spyro toy that I got free in a box of Rice Krispies a while ago.
I keep him on the shelf with my Playstation games, along with a few other little figurines from video games, and my cheat booklets and demo discs.
It all looks very decorative and organised - just how I like it.
Here's Spryo, Crash and Pineapple Puppy.
They sit on top of a stack of boxes.
Board games and creative stuff - like Magnetix and Monopoly. :)
Spyro and Crash were won in the 20p prize grabber machines in Scarbrough.
David won 3 Spryos for me - I gave one to Ian and one to Lisa.
They're both on top of their wardrobe in their room with all of Lisa's teddies.
I got Pineapple Puppy last Christmas.
He's a Fur Berry - and he smells like pineapples.
(Well NOR)
His scent is starting to fade, but it's still nice to bury your nose in his neck and inhale the fruity goodness.
Pineapples taste foul, but smell good.
That's my pitiful collection of DVDs.
Though, I do have two volumes of The Super Mario Bros. Super Show, one volume of Sonic Underground - and the Sonic The Hedgehog movie.
Then, there's Barbie As The Princess & The Pauper - which I LOVE. :)
The Snowman and Father Christmas double set is on the end - next to all the freebie preview discs I got free with Nintendo magazines.
On the top are my four Slipknot DVDs.
I haven't watched Voluminal: Inside The Nine yet.
But then, I bought Doshin The Giant for the Gamecube about 7 weeks ago and I still haven't played it.
I haven't even took it out of the box...
Lmao, there's a little Groudon sticker on my shelf there.
Tee hee, look at all my Dandy and Beano annuals.
Some of the Dandy annuals belonged to my brother and some to my uncle.
The oldest one I have is from 1978.
I think the old ones are WAY better than the new ones.
I'm a whore for British comics. :)
I've got a drawer full of the magazines too.
They were so great - only 50p, and sometimes they gave away lollipops and Parma Violets as freebies.
They gave away one of those wall-tumblers before, the ones with the sticky balls on their hands.
That was so much fun. :)
I think I have too many posters on my walls.
I don't have any room for anymore - I've covered every bit of the walls.
I have to leave a little gap of wallpaper between them all though.
I can't stand them overlapping or being crooked.
The white papers stuck to the wall behind my monitor are exam timetables and checklists - so they don't count. :)
How awesome?
I got that in Rhodes.
It's a Vespa - made from PEPSI CANS.
They sold model cars made from cans of beer too.
The drawing above the Happy Tree Friends poster is one of my early bits of artwork.
I had it photocopied in the library - and Emily has a copy of her own on her wall too.
Not bad for a couple of Euros.
I bet the gadges who made them cut their fingers over and over again trying to make them...
Owch, I bet that would KANE!
This is the Baxi boiler.
...Recently, it's been so NOISY.
It makes this PROPER loud RUMBLE noise every 20 minutes.
It makes the floor shake.
It certainly doesn't sound safe.
I stuck Pokémon Staks and Metroid fridge magnets on it. :)
There's some Super Mario World magnets there too, that I got with a Nintendo magazine yonks ago.
The polar bear sat on the telly is called Boggy.
I named him after the polar bear from Freezeazy Peak in Banjo-Kazooie who swallows a Jiggy.
Adam got me him for Christmas a few years back.
His fur is very soft. :)
The polite way of describing this is... A MESS.
For Textiles, we get sheets of paper, and have to stick on drawings and fabrics - then tip paint or ink or whatever all over them.
They call it a "prep-sheet".
I call it "a waste of time".
But I liked this one, so I risked myself losing a few marks for coursework, I took it home with me and stuck it on my wall.
It sums me up nicely. :)
Converse - which took me ages to draw, and I think they're really good renditions - crosswords - which I really like doing - and black ink.
I don't like writing in blue ink at all.
I only like black biros and fountain pens. :)
I can't stand writing in gel pen.
Grrgh, the noise the nibs make on the paper...
Ergh, goes right through me, it does.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tomorrow, Adam and I are going to see Sweet Charity.
Not the Broadway or London production, of course.
Some people at my school are doing a rendition of it - including Claire and Sammie, who are in the dance routines.
Steph and Emily are main characters, they're in my tutor.
I dunno, I just really wanted to go. :)
So I got the tickets today, and we're going tomorrow night.
I might sneak mam's camera and take a video of the Big Spender routine. Then I can show you all. :D
Ooooh, Sweet Charity tickets. :)
£2 each - and they come with a pleading message to talk to the representatives of the shitty 6th form they're building between mine and Adam's two schools.
The tickets for the Tuesday show were purple.
The tickets for Thursay's show are red.
It's not fair - I like red.
But the Wednesday show tickets are pink.
How ghey.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I can't get over how long this blog is - rofl.
Today in the library, I was ramming the whiteboard on wheels into Claire's chair whilst she was trying to do her English coursework.
Then I sat beside her and chewed on her arm, and I drooled all down her elbow.
It was fun. :)
Then I ate her tissue.
It was moist.
She's got a cold, so I'll probably get one now. :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've done two more pieces of artwork.
This is the first one - a scene from chapter 89 of Fire of Glory.
I should have used a black pen for the trousers - but my permanent marker was running out, and I don't have any other black pens, asides from my biros; but they're for small areas.
Even so, I quite like that.
Our poses are a bit camp, like. :)
And here's the 2nd one - a scene from the end of chapter 67.
Though, you could view this picture in many ways....
- You could see it as Emily and Andrew fighting over Dixie, who is in the middle, and Emily is dragging Dixie away forcefully, claiming she is hers.
- Or, you could see it as both Emily and Andrew bullying Dixie - Emily is the leader, whilst Andrew is watching from the sidelines.
- Or, you could see it as Emily has just saved Dixie from being attacked by Andrew, and Emily's sinister glare is directed at the ginger one himself.
Chapter 67 - it's the middle one, but view it however you like. :)
Mrs Mac wants a photocopy of this one too - for the display.
Jeez, my work's gonna be rate public.
I think I've drawn Emily very well proportioned.
She's slim and slender - just how she actually is - and her hair's actually closer to being its true length - as I always draw it too long.
All three of them have very large feet, though.
I'm getting better at drawing Converse, though! :D
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've been messing on with Photoshop.
One of the pictures I drew of #1263 that's in my black folder - I commented that it looks like she's 50 feet tall.
Claire then did a mock impersonation of a huge #1263 blundering around a city, accidentally stepping on things.
And she gave me the idea to make these:
Photoshopped pictures of #1263 stomping around the city of Toronto!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- I've started getting back into writing TFATH.
New ideas for plotlines and plot twists have just came to mind of their own accord!
I've got ideas for new characters, new events, new settings and new relationships.
Last night, I did some more work on chapter 4 - and I got 2 scenes written.
So... I shall post a snippet of one of them for you to read:
“…And who are you supposed to be?” Fang sneered, rudely.
Spike growled at him, elbowing him out of the way. “…Don’t listen to him, ma’am - he’s just a common testicle-licking mutt.”
The Azumarill grimaced, averting her eyes from both Fang and Spike - turning her gaze to Dour; who had remained silent in shyness.
“I’ve not seen you around these parts before.” She said, smiling warmly. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“…My n-name’s… D-Dour…” Dour mumbled, stammering nervously as he responded to her question.
“W-What’s yours?”
The Azumarill beamed in pleasure, satisfied by Dour’s politeness. “My name is Azzurri.”
“Azzurri?! What sort of crack-nut name is that?!” Fang snorted, throwing back his head in laughter - before Spike socked him right in the gut as a punishment for being uncouth and tactless.
“…It’s an Italian name.” Azzurri frowned, sticking her nose in the air. “A name of high culture and social class. Of course, you wouldn’t understand that.”
Fang ground his teeth in rage, ready to retort back - but Spike cut in first.
“What does it mean?”
“It’s the Italian form of azure. The colour of my fur - it makes a lot of sense.” Azzurri smiled, seeming pleased that Spike had questioned the reasoning behind her name.
“What’s yours, Mr. Mohawk?” She grinned, staring in amazement at Spike’s rebellious, punk hairdo.
“Ern-… Spike.” Spike said quickly, correcting himself. “Spike Evoli.”
“And what about…?” Azzurri asked slowly - trying to distract herself from looking at Fang, who was attempting to slurp the grime from inside his tummy-button.
“That’s Fang.” Dour answered, also grimacing. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Ms. Azzurri.”
“Oh please Dour!” Azzurri giggled, blushing foolishly. “No snobbish titles for me - just plain Azzurri will do.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And to finish, I will post a poem here for my dearest friend Emily.
You were always there when I was sighing,
You were there when my tears needed drying,
You always told me to never stop trying,
Our secrets we kept close, we were never ones for lying,
The knot in our friendship, we kept on re-tying,
On each other, we were always relying,
We’re the best of friends, there’s no denying.
Our relationship is never dying…
Emily dearheart, please stop crying…
Here is a rambling of mine. It's a few years old, and I'll admit a little immature.
But, it has some great ideas. This was back when I first started realizing that there is so much more and that something is wrong.
"It is nearly impossible for myself to imagine reasoning to my existence here this day, in this moment in time and space. Whether the universe exploded and I happened to just be an organism that can breathe and think, or a supreme being has placed me here for a supreme purpose, I have yet to discover the empathetic meaning to my power to overcome what has been given to me. I am a human being, or so called by the rest of this species. I am a living organism. I am made, self evident, an equal man. I am a life form, created by two of my own, my mother and father. They have given me a gift, a gift that I’d be damned for eternity if I didn’t fulfill its needs. I am a human, and I am humane. I have feelings, or created images in my head that make me feel sad and happy, lonely and afraid… or connected. I feel attached to the outside world as if I, myself, were the outside world. Or am I just a soul, imprisoned in this forsaken body, demanded to spend my life wondering why?
I am man and man has no idea what he is.
I am alive. And alive does not know what it is to be dead.
I am imprisoned. And imprisoned does not know what it is to be free.
Utopia is unimaginable. Existence is unimaginable. Any action taken by me will have no existence when memory of my existence has faded. So in some time in this universe, Christopher Tory Johnson will be forgotten. That being said, anything that I do while I do exist will have no consequences because they will only exist as long as the memory of myself exists.
We have created a surplus of hatred. There is no evidence of what existed before, yet we are determined to discover the purpose as to what we are today. The violence we enforce on ourselves. The deceit, the lies, the discrimination, the prejudice, the irrational discrepancies of religion, politicians, and the supernatural has pushed us to a brink of destruction to ourselves.
We understand that at some point in time our lives here on planet Earth will come to an end and the relationships, the misunderstandings, the actions in which we partake will have no matter whatsoever when we are buried in a cold, dark coffin. Whether you believe in the forgiveness of sins, or in reincarnation, or in the total darkness of death itself, you will undoubtedly convince yourself that your time spent on Earth was wasted. Your time spent enjoying the luxuries that made you feel joy have not given it to you eternally. You won’t miss video games, music, cars, books, or televisions. You will miss the experiences of accomplishment through other life forms, whether it be mammals, reptiles, fish or any other organism in the world. If you made a difference, you will have eternal joy.
I am confused, and will most likely always be confused, by the judgment of this United States government. Why, as a child brought up in America, do they force me to believe that this is all there is, and that this is the best there is? There are 5 billion other human beings in this world, and they are drowned out by our national anthem. There are billions of living, breathing, bleeding, crying entities on this planet… and we have driven them out of our minds. And sometimes we have put them into our mouths. We have put them on our backs. We have put them on our feet. We have put them in our homes. We have put them on our televisions. We have condemned this entire nation into believing that it is natural.
Is it natural to let living, breathing, bleeding, crying cows to be hung upside down and cut from the throats so they are drained with the blood that gives them life? Only to be preserved and distributed into every household in this country as food?
Is it natural to give a young man a gun and send him across the world to shoot another man that he does not even know or understand, and have him murder him on command?
Is it natural for people to have to live in the streets, while others sleeping in a warm cozy bed, and for no one to do anything about it?
Is it natural for our lives to be controlled by television sets, news propaganda and forced to fear something because it is for our protection?
Protection from what? Protection from something that our government created!? NEVER!
George W. Bush, George Bush Sr. along with every single politician in this country are the real terrorists! The trained killers: The FBI, the CIA, the police. Our nuclear weapons forced upon on other countries. "
-10/23/2005

Showing 1 - 5. [ Next ]



