Monday, September 05, 2005
(11:10 am PT) - Depressed
[link] - (melancholy)
Of course, considering I woke up with my crimson friend, I'm probably more emotionally unbalanced than usual.
... I'm still depressed and weepy because of AC, though.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
(7:35 am PT) - depression is annoying, when you think about it
[link] - (melancholy)
Friday, July 09, 2004
(9:30 am PT) - Not this trip again. Where're m'pills
[link] - (melancholy)
And some days it's harder to fight that others. Some days I have to literally slap myself to keep from giving into the urge to whine about what a pathetic person I am. The rational side of me would like to believe that's not true. However, depression is anything but rational.
The sad, (or should I say ironic), thing is, nobody would know if I'd just learn to keep my damn fool mouth shut. I pride myself on my acting, if nothing else.
I haven't been able to write much, just because it's been very difficult to convince myself it's worth it. That's one of the reasons I love NaNoWriMo. It tends to force me to write, even if I hate it. Though oddly, I find I don't hate or even remotely despise what comes out. I know it needs work, but it's also not that bad.
But writing beyond that? Why? I used to have a ready answer when I asked myself that. Lately, I hear an echoing silence that seemly almost mocking in some ways, but mainly just quiet and lonely in the resulting void.
I also lack discipline. I'll be the first to admit this. But again, it feels there should be a reason to bother trying to get any, and I still find myself lacking.
So I need to be forced to write. I can thrive a bit better under pressure. But I don't know how to force myself. How pitiful.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
(1:29 am PT) - Look, it's a chicken. With it's head cut off.
[link] - (melancholy)
On a side note, for anyone concerned, I've been trying to accumulate any number of various tips, though for the time being they're all web or computer oriented. Should I make it a weekly thing, or just stick to randomness and post soon as I find something of interest?
There's more to say, loads more, especially with that "I should write" bit. But I fear if I do, I'll sound either whiny or depressive, so not going to bother right now.
Friday, May 21, 2004
(8:13 am PT) - must... work...
[link] - (melancholy)
- organise freeware program folder
- reclaim HD space
- find an unfinished fic and write something, damnit
- finish crocheting vest
- watch programs:
- last Call for Help show
- Slayers Premium dvd
- Ebichu eps Kit sent
- consider doing fic drabbles on request
- look for wallpaper worthy images
- procrastinate on something I should have added here
Now of that list, I'll be lucky if I get three things done today. Grah, I want to slap myself. Although if properly encouraged (and really, it doesn't take much), I'd perhaps do the drabble request.
Now, onto another subject. While cleaning out my anime file/fansubs folder, I finally looked at the first ep of Saiyuki RELOAD that was collecting dust. Some time ago, when it was first released, I heard a bunch of people griping, bitching, and complaining that the OP was the worst they've heard. To hear it told, nobody would like this OP.
For those people, kindly speak only for yourselves in the future, kthx.
That's the type of music I grew up on through my teen years, (ah, the memories). There's nothing wrong with it to my ears. It's my opinion, one I'm entitled to, and frankly, I liked it. The closing for YnM is far worse, IMO. It always sounded like polka on crack to me.
Again, it's my opinion. I don't think the OP for Saiyuki R is the best thing ever, period, nor do I think the EP for YnM is the worst ever. They are good and bad to me. So people, do try and learn the difference, and quit with the generalisation. Because when you have someone who proves to be an exception, it makes you look damn silly.
Of course, in this day and age, we all know the proper thing to do to those individuals who are exceptions is to ridicule them to the masses who agree with the status quo. Those who really think that way? One noise for you.
Baaaaaaah. (And I wouldn't be surprised if you were inflatable, too.)
Randomly, I like the closing for Saiyuki R, too. I'd like to find them both on mp3, least until I break down and get the OST, if there is one.
In other news. DMC3 trailer. I am so not happy. I'm not happy with the possible storyline, so much as I've always thought Vergil deserved a better plot device than the cliche they're coming up with. In DMC, it was implied that he was taken/kidnapped anyway. Please explain this one, Capcom. And the other reason I'm not happy is the rendering. I suppose they were trying to make Dante look younger, but didn't quite succeed, IMO. And from what I did see, the shots of body flesh seems a bit dull when compared to other flesh renderings out today. But other than that, I'll hold the rest of my judgement for when I actually play it.
Moving along to Mina, who asked me why the asshat was still in here. It's not my choice. The mother-unit has allowed him safe haven. (Hence why I'm looking into alternative housing with my brother, but no telling how long that will take.)
I so want to do this, but alas, I have no where near enough for their tuition. ::cries::
I think that's enough rambling for now. Man, I need to go back to school, but first priority is getting OUT of here before the year is up, with or without the mother-unit.
Monday, April 12, 2004
(4:41 pm PT) - Serious problems
[link] - (melancholy)
Just pray that the data can be backed-up/saved. The irony is I probably would have backed up for the month that very evening if this hadn't occurred.
::sigh:: I'm truly depressed now, so I'm probably going to sleep most of the time until I get my comp back. I'll talk to everyone when I can.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
(1:24 pm PT) - mood, creativity, motivation: flatlining
[link] - (melancholy)
::sigh:: I hope this feeling resolves itself. I'll cry if I'm stuck like this for too long.
Speaking of crying, I weep for lack of money, otherwise I'd try these Digipen Workshops over the summer. I've always wanted to get into the field, but it's probably too late. They want younger and younger people in the jobs nowadays.
Life's passed me by, and I didn't even see it coming.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
(5:19 pm PT) - I hate holidays
[link] - (melancholy)
1. bank
2. search engine
3. apartment sitter
4. copy machine
5. therapist
6. baker/candy maker
7. gift shop
All rolled into one, to be used free of charge.
...I love you to, dearest family of mine. </sarcasm>
And now? I'm spending today completely and utterly alone, as my brother's gone to visit the iberu sister's place, and mom and her [censored] bf are going out to eat.
::sigh:: If there's any kind of higher diety out there listening, at the very least, just give me a freakin' muse to finish this SH fic with, okay?
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
(10:56 am PT) - insanity and chaos, the norm
[link] - (melancholy)
I admit to a revival in my love of SH, and have also written for it after goddess knows how long a dry spell of writing any fanfiction. Those of you bearing with my insane and sudden obsession, the management thanks you for your patience. And it's heartening to know that, though crippled, I haven't lost access to all my words.
Kit angsts Kaligo. This makes me cry. </private comment>
For those who RP and have a whole world/universe in their head, but never committed that to tangible form, why don't we? Some place where we give as basic or detailed a description of our world(s), the beings that live in it, gods/deities, et cetera. I know of a couple, but I'd be interested in reading others, if just to see how far we each travel in our own minds. By this I mean more our original ideas/characters, versus those soulbonds/muses we tend to pick up from anime/games. (They got enough spotlights from a few thousand other people anyway.)
In short, I'd like to visit your universe, if you don't mind having a
<personal feminine rant about the usual>
Warning: language
... fuck fuck fuckinah fuck.
I'm almost two cursed weeks early! I'm sure it's tied into the stress I had yesterday, but I didn't think/know my body was that sensitive to my moods to do this. Granted, I'm not usually that upset, as I try to avoid stress and possible depression triggers whenever I can, but geez! I wasn't expecting this until around the 10-14th. Damn you, Crimson Army! You took out my side flank in a sneak attack! [insert as many expletives as you want here]
</rant>
Now that I got that out of my system...
Have I mentioned that I'm grateful for knowing you? Even when I seem like I'm caught up in my own sphere, and forget to look outside it, I'm genuinely happy to know you, or as much as you've given for me to know. That's a hard thing to do for myself, so I appreciate what I have. Just thought I'd let you know.
Now I must go research sexual awakening in boys, and how early it can start, because damnit, I'm writing Ko-chan's fic, even if it takes me to next Xmas to get it down.
... right after I finish this other SH fic.
Monday, February 02, 2004
(3:55 am PT) - Can't sleep. Psychotic delusions make it kinda hard
[link] - (melancholy)
I will not spam. 2 posts isn't spamming. When I post 3+, then it's spam.
Who am I kidding? It's spam all the way.
Actually, it's me feeling damn sorry for myself. (Obviously I must tell them to up the neurotin.) So ignore the drabble. I'll probably delete it later, when I'm a little less pathetic/depressing. Okay, less depressing. I'm stuck on the pathetic part, I'm sure.
I suppose that wishing "everyone play nice" is also a boring thought. Conflict brings interest, being it entertainment or real life. Though it's hard finding where one ends and one begins. Sometimes real life seems more ludicrous than my tv ever could be. But that's how it is.
Sometimes I want to laugh at myself. Other times I wonder why can't I become passionate about things and not worry about what others think. Most times, though, it's just the fog of apathy. That's the frightening side of things. I often worry about how far will that apathy spill out into area that I'd rather it not.
Then I want to beat my head in for being so melodramatic.
At the same time, I want to quit. Quit feeling, quit rationalising, quit thinking, quit breathing. So in summary, quit living. But that's a piss poor thing for anyone to want. So I convince myself that I don't, that only cowards would go that route.
Sure, I'll be brave, huddled in this corner I made myself.
I feel sorry for some teens, who feel ready to go off in a million pieces, getting clumped into such group labels as teen angst and goth wannabes. I mean, sure, hearing how it's the end of the world because the 'rents won't get 'em a new car is irksome. But there are a few cases where it's a lot more than just a case of changing hormones. And it continues well into the adult years, this quiet state of confusion.
Staring down the barrel of thirty, and I'm just as clueless about what's going on inside my head as I was when I was sixteen.
I want to write, and I want to show the world, but I'm not that stupid anymore. I recognise the spoilt brat within myself, who would pout because, surprise, the whole world didn't like it. Most times I'm able to get around this. I show a select few, they smile and pat the brat on the head, who in turn leaves me alone. Personally, I'd like to get rid of my inner brat, but don't know how.
It's funny, also, what I've developed a thick skin to, and what I still need to work on. The general decline of the world hardly touches me, but I can't take insulting criticism at all. I have a hard time with constructive, in truth. It's not that I think I'm the best. Yeah, right, and our current global political situation is just peachy. I'm well aware of my multitude of flaws in writing. But it's not that I don't want to improve, because I do, at least in a direction I'm comfortable with. (Damn you, perception, for you're not a universal concept.) If I don't flinch when I hear a gunshot right outside my window, why is it so hard seeing others point out where I can improve in my work? Surely that gun poses a bigger threat, even though in my area, it happens all the time.
Perhaps that's part of the problem there. Living in an urban violence that comes closer to guerilla warfare has twisted how I can handle mundane things, because I've had to adapt the idea of what I consider "mundane." Nor will I go the route my peers and neighbors take, staying in a near constant buzz from whatever alcohol/weed they can get.
Not to say that I haven't been tempted.
So I have these thoughts going 140 mph, and in the end I just wonder, when will it stop?
So what do you do when you're feeling like hell warmed over, not able to sleep, and kinda halfway wishing those gunshots you keep hearing would hurry up and hit you already?
I think hypocrisy should be punishable by death, except that I'm only saying it because I find I am a hypocrite, or at least I was tonight, and death would just be a permanent escape for a temporary problem.
Goddess, I feel like crap, on every level of human existance. Mentally, spiritually, emotionallly... all crap. And I don't know how the hell to pull myself out of this hole.
Normalcy is highly overrated, but what I wouldn't give to feel normal right now.
Saturday, December 06, 2003
(2:12 pm PT) - ::sigh::
[link] - (melancholy)
Oh well. Maybe next year.
Friday, December 05, 2003
(12:14 am PT) - video game depression #234
[link] - (melancholy)
Huh. To you, my friends, I say play and finish Defiance.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the corner, weeping.
Saturday, November 15, 2003
(3:56 pm PT) - To my muses
[link] - (melancholy)
I think I know what the trouble is, and why you're dragging this thing out with grabbing the sprites. Let's make something clear. I don't want to see Win in pain any more than you do, but it's a necessary evil to explain how he goes from "Daibhidh" to "Winter." I know how traumatic this is for you, it's hurting me too. However, lingering on it and stalling out won't help anything. So please, let's just work together, do it, and the sooner we can be done with it, the better.
I promise, we'll have a nice crying session together once it's all over, okay?
Friday, October 03, 2003
(10:54 pm PT) - just things
[link] - (melancholy)
See, I do follow everyone's journal, and I do worry, I just tend to forget to say anything. Most times it's for lack of knowing what to say, or feeling otherwise helpless, something I hate.
::sighs::
On random nonsensical note, two hours of work down the drain because I forget to save a pic I was working on, and the program freezes. ::grumblesnarlbitchmoan::
Oh yes, Aglandiir, are you working on the Mystery Island puzzle? I'm ready to tear my eyeballs out at the chatboards, personally.
Domino, not yet. We're writing the 60 day notice now, though, as we found that was a clause we can't get out of. ::more grumblingbitchingmoaning::
But again, just pop in, say hi, say something stupid, don't care. Want to hear from you guys. (And I'll try and smack myself to remember to comment more.)
Friday, September 26, 2003
(5:45 pm PT) - Never ever
[link] - (melancholy)
Of course, if I were a parent, I'd only have one. Then I don't have to worry about letting any of the others down or playing favourites.
Goddess, I have got to move away from her sooner or later. Maybe next year. It all depends on how the con goes. Because if this year sucks as bad (or worse) as last year, I'll bow out of 2004 and use to money to build up credit and move.
</whiny rant> Sheesh, sound like a bitch, but it's the only place to complain in.
So I sit here thinking, "I would never publish my stories, but my poetry is another thing." But it's a case of who you know, or what you have money for. Of course I turn up empty on both.
Times like this (because I see I'm in a depressed state), I wonder why the hell someone didn't use a condom back in '75...
Thursday, May 08, 2003
(9:22 am PT) - streaming conscious type thing
[link] - (melancholy)
What is to be seen through the fissures? What small pieces can be gleaned from inside an emptiness that wraps its arms around you as any adoring lover might? Does one return the embrace or continue to stare at the widening the schism between subconscious desire and conscious, self-induced reality?
Or is it?
Insanity is merely a deviation of the shared general perception of what is considered normal for a given area or group. This does not mean that "normal" is right, which results in individuals who still possess free thought and will to be branded. They are the ones carried into the cells, chained by the brandings of society.
And they wait.
Monday, April 14, 2003
(10:09 pm PT) - too much thought, not enough wisdom
[link] - (melancholy)
Things are confusing, but I don't know if this stems from within or without. Unfortunately, this leads to me being somewhat flakey. At least I know not to try and commit to anything until the situation is a bit more settled.
I would go into detail, but I'm afraid some of it is simply too personal. If this were a pen & paper journal, I still wouldn't write it.
The only calming thing has been the rain, which I will be sad to see end.
If I had a bigger or even separate bedroom, I'd consider yoga meditation right now. I need something to settle the unrest taking root.
There's too much emotional clutter. I'm just not sure how to sort it out at this time.
Your patience and understanding is greatly appreciated.
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
(11:16 am PT) - Just wishing
[link] - (melancholy)
And dear goddess, am I missing you now.
We have that great love-hate relationship, don't we? But you are the more fickle between us. The wrong word, the wrong look, the wrong thought and you leave me. I can curse you for days on end, damning your insensitive soul to the blackest pits that exist within my own, but nothing changes. Worse, in your absense I am broken. You leave, I shatter. Even if by some humourless whim I can fit the pieces back together, it's not the same without you.
I can apologize, though I've committed no sin. I can plead, though deep down I wish I didn't have the need. You hold complete dominion over me, and that is why I hate you so.
Only you will return eventually, and in the oddest places, and I love you for what you give to me. The dark feelings you spawn are banished just from a simple smile, or a gentle caress. That is often all I need, nor am I so foolish as to ask or expect anything more.
And life will continue this nameless dance for myself, and for you.
Muse.
Thursday, March 13, 2003
(7:44 pm PT) - The people find you from the strangest places...
[link] - (melancholy)
"applying for a job at Target"
Boy did that go to the wrong place.
To the person looking for Dante hentai yaoi, sorry, I wish I had something for you. To the person looking for Trish in regards to DMC2, you have been led to gates of hell, trust me. To the person looking for Dante and Trish hentai, pray I never meet you. You've made me feel molested following that hit here. I feel soiled, unclean, and positively dirty, thankyouverymuch.
On an unrelated note, there's 7 LJ readers to my rss feed. I know 6. Who are you, mysterious as-yet-identified LJer? I want to meet you...
Sue me, I'm curious/nosey.
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
(9:56 pm PT) - Arise Sir Loin of Beef. Arise Sir Quarter of Tin...
[link] - (melancholy)
An emptiness that screams and makes itself known much as the child throwing a tantrum to get its mother's attention.
Every year I hear the wails and wish to the goddess they'd be quiet.
Saying it hurts is both an understatement, and strangely enough, incorrect in an inexplicably way.
It doesn't help that I'm surrounded by people, none of which I can make a connection to.
It will quiet, this inner cry of distress, the longing, the desire. It always does. It's just difficult to deal with when it wants attention. I can't make it understand how difficult it is to reach out to anyone, especially to try and form new (relation/friend)ships.
In time the other, more dominant, aloof and stoic aspect will reemerge from its sleep, since I'm certain that's what happens. It goes to sleep because everything needs to recharge, and this other entity seizes the moment and demands I acknowledge it.
I can't, and it's going to have to learn that.
I'm not an idiot, it will never learn. I just have to adapt and deal when it gets out and makes a pain of itself.
It'll pass, it always does.
