StalkingMidnight

A continuing update of current life events: figuring on no car insurance, I'm still about $1700 short for school in the fall, but it looks like I'm getting a loan from the Jewish Educational Loan Service...it's not deferred, but since it's a small sum in the scheme of things, I should be able to make the payments. As to the car...well, cars...my bro's silver '94 has died 3 times in as many days, including this morning less than 2 hours after picking it up from the shop, and it makes me growl...however, it seems to be okay now, finally. My car is FINALLY getting fixed (nope, not totalled), so I get to keep it...I just don't get to drive it much, since it won't be road insured at school. But such is life...might make things a bit more difficult, but I should still be able to, for example, buy groceries, so long as I drive speed limit and only go no more weekly. Other than that...I just want next Friday evening to get here, so Sarah's here, and then we go to RenFest on Saturday, and then she leaves, but I get to go back to Mount Pleasant, thank goodness. Also, should anyone have a desire for an AMAZINGLY good read, look into THE SPARROW, by Mary Doria Russell. It will absolutely knock you off your feet. It's sci-fi, won the Arthur C. Clarke award, but it's also just an amazing piece of humanistic fiction. This is one stir-crazy mofo, signing off.

Devoid

Spectres of life float past my vision, amber memories, gilded and frozen by my mind set before me in a tableau, mimicking reality, my life, and mocking it. Even the thought of life without you fills me with pain, a phantasmagorical scene played before my waking eyes. Marble chess pieces in a twisted parody of friends playing their way across the board, but lost. The emptiness fills the void, folding in on itself, replicating. The sounds of silence are not so empty as the hollow hum of a computer. The cold chilling fire of reality , its absolute loneliness, infinite solitude striking harshly upon the mind's eye, just at the edges of comprehension, before the mind's grasp on the truth falls away in self-defense. Illusion falls away, revealing an absence of control, but with it comes not the comfort of knowing that fault is not with the individual, that whatever happens is unalterable. Rather, the realization that, no matter what happens, nothing can happen any other way than it has, than it is, than it will, and that noone will ever know anything other than the path. Choice is real, but the choice made is inescapable. Fate is a reality harsher than any other. What will be will be. In that, there is some comfort, but the fear of loneliness remains. I have retreated into a shell, a cocoon. But a butterfly has not emerged. Instead, I simply revisit myself upon reality, the claustrophobia of that confining space forcing me once again to recognize that creating a world large enough only for oneself is impossible. Instead, sensory deprivation causes acute recollection of what is absent, a yearning towards what was given up willingly, but without a full awarentess of what will be lost. Attempts to regain what was are futile. Attempts to recreate it are as well. Only attempting to walk a new path can bring one back to where the loss occurred, and it will never be quite the same. It will only be as it must be, as it is. Hope is a useless emotion, but for the simple, primal need for it. It does not affect true reality, as it exists in the objective universe. But in our realities, our private worlds, big or small, it protects us and shields us, and in the end, may be what saves us. But hope is nothing without action, and action comes only with hope. Even suicide is undertaken with the hope that the pain will cease. But hope, hope is the controlling force of humankind, and defines who we are. To lack hope is to lack life, to be not. Reality is recognized, but hope shapes even the now. And as this reverie brings me back to my reality, a world with all of you in it, a world, though false, shaped by me, I say unto each of you, thank you. Thank you for everything, and know that you will never be not. You will always be a part of me, and hopefully, you will all continue to play a part in who I, ever-changingly, am-

-Me

Just a bitty bit of info more: the repairs to her car will be $672.57. That is over 2 paychecks shot to hell. Fuckdamn. In other news, my uncle's house burned down and he has 3rd degree burns on his feet, but his wife is fine, and otherwise so is he, and insurance is covering everything. Further news: I just got called in to work. If I didn't need the money so bad now, I wouldn't. Shit. Ah well. Later people.

I feel a brief but intense bout of depression coming on. Damnitall. Don't mind me. I'll be fine in about 12-36 hours. *sigh*

*campy announcer voice* You heard it first on BNN, the Blog News Network. That newsflash brought to you by Angst, Inc. Thank you and goodnight.

'k...here's what's new in my world.

1) Diana and I are back together. The break-up lasted (at least on my end) for all of about 24 hours. We were both friendly, and after discussion, I decided to give it another go, but with some changes. She was cool with it, so we're back together, though apparently she wasn't clear on that until like, last Saturday. Regardless, that's the current status, and it's going pretty well.
2) Stress sucks. Wow. Stress + depression sucks more. Wow. But I'm doing okay, though I seem to have gained about an inch and a half, and 10 lbs. Grrrrr...hopefully it'll run away and hide over the summer. And take some of it's friends with it. Anyhow...
3) No internship for me...nor summer job...not quite sure what's gonna happen, but it'll probably suck, and involve some disagreements between my mother and myself. Attempts to distract me with hanging out are welcome, though remember that I'm all sorts of broke, and will continue to be, and that I'm not quite sure what's gonna happen with the car.
4) I have a golden gecko. His name is Moliere. He lives out of water and I can touch him. He's about as long as my hand, from fingertip to palm-end (head to tail...tail is more than half). He makes me happy. So does Dave Matthews Band. Regardless...
5) The Tri-Frat formal is tonight. It should be fun...if I'm in a good mood. We can hope, can't we? Mrph. See some of y'all there.

That's news. 0.o

So...it's been an interesting couple of days...and the news is out of control.

First off, Happy Holidays (Merry Christmas to most of you, hurrah)

http://www.ferrago.com/story/4871
That's from Luke. It's funny shit. In sum, someone bought (with real money) land in World of Warcraft for $26,400!!!! This may sound stupid, but...
he can tax them, and there is a back-and-forth conversion for money in the game.
So.
As I put it to Luke...
"that's real intelligent entrepreneurism...my god...land speculation...fuck me!"


In other news, all but a few small sites for BitTorrent are down, either due to raids by authorities or because they've shut themselves down to avoid such an outcome and prosecution. There are still a couple for TV and anime, but basically, torrenting is about to hit the wall hard, and filesharing is about 4/5 dead. Amazing really, but I'll deal somehow.

And Electronic Arts (EA...the sports and Harry Potter and Sims people) are trying to buy out Ubisoft (Myst, Prince of Persia, and hella-more). w0w.

Last off, LightScribe technology, with no changes to hardware, will allow the burning of labels onto blank CDRs without stickers or shit. It won't be barely more expensive for the media, and should be quite worthwhile. 'spretty cool.

So in my life,
We leave Mount Pleasant a bit late, 7-ish. Get a flat tire 20 minutes outside of the Pleasant. Wait about 3/4 of an hour for the AAA truck to come and swap me out for the spare, which is basically a goddamn moped tire. We go for a while, I have a semi-panic attack thing. I'm rational, logical, just...all of my limbs and torso and face are numb. So we pull off. I feel a bit better, megh is worried but hiding how worried she is. We go back on the road, as I'm feeling decent, we get to about Wixom, she needs to pee, so I do too, and after peeing, I feel just fine (considering), like, the peeing flushed the chemical fucking me up.
So we get home at 11:30. 2 hours after expected when we left. And 4 hours (at a minimum) after she was more-or-less originally expected. Sheesh, bob-darnit.

-Me

frogs are good

When was the last time I updated?

Oh yeah...

That's right.

Never.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone...and don't let the blasted Native Americans give you grief about it, either.  It might not've started out all hunky-dory, and they've gotten screwed, but what it is now is time with the food.

Family...I meant family.

Whatever.