well, his name is purple teardrops...
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well, his name is purple teardrops...
also, noice,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6icd_NCJSA
xd
Wh40k is filled with mystical cyphers and whatnot... The number 40 itself has something to it. That song is pleasant, btw.
As for writing... Poetry and i haven't truly gotten along, although it hasn't been uncommon for my writing to feel like poetry, rhymes and all.
I want to write a book, or more than one, to tell the truth... One of them is nearly finished in my head, another one, the beginning and its ending are already completed... The middle (always the middle) is still void, though.
On the other hand, while i do have access to the internet in the drug 'rehabrainwash' facility i'm currently locked in, i don't think i should write anything here... My family sorta wants me to write. I don't want to 'reward' them with my writing until my freedom gets returned to me... Assuming it ever will, that is; i feel as though there's a huge guillotine blade hanging above my head, especially given that should those bastards want to, they'll just label me as a schizophrenic and have me locked somewhere else.
I can't lower my defenses, the moment someone feels mildy comfortable in places like this, the person may be subtly manipulated into believing in anything. I've been feeling like putting a permanent end to this life, with any luck i'll get a continue screen and a list of saved game slots.
Well, drastic and likely effective solutions aside, do you think i could somehow make money with my writing on the internet? I can't even leave this cursed place to open a bank account, after all. I've been feeling like writing for a payment for a long time, but i'm not sure that'd be wise unless i managed to get paid, perhaps enough to get a lawyer. Maybe i could somehow look for a job as a housemaid wearing a victorian uniform, though, as long as the employer doesn't mind me getting high on pot all the time and trying to learn time-travel magics.
Writing on the internet can make you money, but it's difficult and not too rewarding. I considered the option myself at a time where career prospects seemed nonexistent.
Besides the route of just writing novels or short stories and selling them as ebooks on, say, Amazon, you can submit short stories and/or poems to various journals and the like that hold contests with prizes on an annual basis. Those usually cost either a small fee to enter, or are completely free. The prizes are rarely enough to live off of, though, usually a few hundred or thousand dollars, and competition is stiff to say the least. If you're not particularly attracted to creative writing there's always copywriting and the like, but I don't know enough about the field to comment.
read shit popular original story
write shit fan-fic
re-write shit fan-fic into shit popular original story
profit
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shit
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or spew out some dribble every other week each month on patreon after you've amassed a decent-sized following
right there's that option
I think i'm going to try that 'route' while i try any other route possible... I must admit that the idea of becoming someone's Kohaku would probably please me the most, though... I can never seem to find a Shiki...
Hey wait a sec, Mikiya was sorta responsible for the Bomberman going half-blind... So he went half-blind in the end... Kara offers his complete eyesight back, though he refuses for reasons left unclear... Makes me wonder why...
Still... I guess i do want a Shiki to save me... And i wanna dress like his housemaid everyday, too... <3
rough of the re-do of the commission i was talking about,
Spoiler:
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ayeQuote:
In that war old legends would die and new ones rise, she would lose Caliburn and be granted Excalibur in its place, then unveil her holy sword’s golden blade, its blinding light roaring across the battlefield for the first time. That war would be soon. She had to reach Vortigern before it started. Before those dark waves crashed upon her beloved Britain’s shores.
Strangely enough, i feel like connecting, but at the same time, i guess i feel like giving up. On surrendering to a complete lack of meaning, like the one mentioned on Herman Hesse's Siddhartha, when he tries to embrace asceticism...
I guess i do want to connect, in a way. I'd love to be appreciated for once, instead of merely pouring my thoughts on an editor with a black background instead of publishing them into a site, but then again... Then comes failure. I recall the Underground Man's servant, whose name i forgot... I wonder if i wouldn't just be glad to for a while, become nothing but a property of someone else, get as much as i could on mind-bending substances in order to further explore perceptions and wait for death (in the end, i guess that's all we're doing, whether on pleasant days or grief-ridden ones), or to merely dress as a maid, pour tea and serve food for other people, and watch, both in the dismay of realization of what happens and a sadistic consolation of knowing what goes on when the conceptualization of pleasure gets mixed with a walking icon of sorts, and others look for the result of such mashed and smashed-together concept soup... Focused perhaps on a single stupid icon, the walking maid...
I think i just realized that perhaps walking as an anonymous concept might be somewhat more pleasant than displaying an identity... But then again, i don't have an identity... I feel hollow, as something born without a piece of itself...
Are women cross-dressing when they wear pants?
Went thru the camho thread yesterday... Felt marvelled at the way some 'male' (i hate those definitions) bodies were clad with visual symbols of beauty... I couldn't look at the bodies, i couldn't look at the 'people'.... I could only at the vocabulary they were written with... The visual signals... Kirakishou, my beloved company (who seems to hate me, but who knows) just called me a boring person for that... I wonder if that was the one whose subconscious ( '...seems to be wanting...' more synch messages) i've been thinking of ('do you want to touch me?' 'learn this in school' 'take your meds and we'll see what we can do' [this is so Shinku and Jun when she was teaching him telepathy with german, after suggesting others to read Jung's Psychology and Alchemy]) i feel a desire to touch...
In a way, i'd like you to touch me. Or to work with you on something... I wonder what is your avatar like... Would i be the ideal maid to you, or would i simply be a hassle?
Some try to connect with a bizarre form of connection thru rejection and pain... Spider-man was saved by dr. Octopus once, given that the former was proposed as latter's raison d'etre... A comparison was just classified, i've been forbidden from giving out that hint... I wonder, should i stop trying because something feels like both an echo of the past and a self-executing pattern, which will soon replicate?
How many many times have i been rejected? How many few times have i been accepted?
Why do i feel as though there's an outright hatred for the possible reaction of the ones who hate what they see, when they realize they actually feel something similar to what i do and describe? Losh, i hate the crowd, but i comprehend the crowd... Sometimes i feel as though the crowd hates me for having been reduced to a mathematical formula... And worse, for the one who's writing this thru an avatar itself might be as empty as a mirror with no reflection... Like a Titan, Kirakishou proposed to be added... Wonder what she's talking about...
Had a run-in with an archetypical protocol of being run, executed, today... A gay man, who felt like a walking stereotype of a walking scandal... Kept being unpolite to me for weird reasons... I know how patterns arrange themselves... Maybe i should write about that some other time... Maybe i shouldn't... What archetypes rule that existence, and why...
Guess i should just consider moving these posts into a blog of sorts, and wonder if anyone would be willing to get some drawing done... Many stories have been written... 'Take me back to the land where my yearnings were born', the moment i came to fall in love with purple twilights and the moon, instead of all too furious sun...
Go back in time, and write a story that was never heard of before... All stories have been told, by now. Unless a story gets written about what's behind the very alphabet we're so used to using in our heads without realizing, unless we cut through the flesh to find the organs and bones... Nothing new will ever come... And torture hasn't been news for millenia of millenia...
Too big, but still... Would you dance with me? No, not you, some other one... I should mention that unfortunately you will be dancing with us, especially given that i don't want to let go of them anymore... I wonder if anyone would pay to watch my pen dance... And if you would like to dance with me, still... Because i wouldn't charge someone, should that someone truly touch me in a way that i actually could finally crumble down...
But then again, physics, Kirakishou proposed... Humans will always hint that touch to abandon someone to walk away with the glory... Ara ara... No fantasies come true... At least i have the never-ending company of ghosts...
- Īr
this finished sketch is why i like artists who actively work with me,
https://i.imgur.com/KujeHNM.jpg?1
I've made a choice. Soon it might come to a 'Code 46'-like ending. You know, the movie where a girl ends up in a desert.
I think i want this to be my ending... Because this is what real life feels like. I've been outcast, and like it or not, this is a jail. I'd like Atreyu to name me, but i guess this won't happen because there are no Atreyus for this princess, no Atreides' for this Irulan, no Eves for this Adam, nor serpents. Just the real world.
With luck, i will soon have to leave all this online world behind and have a taste of what the streets feel like. That'll be better than to live this empty life of jails and family rejection, and waiting for someone willing to die for me to become real... No more pretty images of flashy swordfights, perhaps if Tohsaka or Akiha had ever tasted what not having a single person, nor a piece of the societal structure provided by money around them (after all, let's face it, they were never abandoned by the financial system) they'd have an entirely different take on life.
All my knowledge of humanity will likely go to the grave with me. Perhaps i'm glad, and so are the authors, i was afraid that was i ever to write an essay on the ending of the 3rd season of Rozen Maiden, no more Rozen Maidens would show up. Perhaps i'll soon face that agape of the 300. Perhaps not.
Don't even know why i'm writing this. Perhaps i'm hoping i'm flirting with someone, though who am i kidding? I'm just hoping for a salvation that'd stand for no less than a miracle... And would you dare to exchange all of the world's pretty images, castles and fantasies for hours of talking and weeping in each others' laps? Would the world be interesting was it to become meaninless and we were all that truly mattered?
Dunno. Poetry is fine, until we're faced with the harshness of reality. In a way, i just want to die... Whether i'm referring to dying and being reborn in the same body, beginning something truly new, or dying and waiting for rebirth, leaving only the remnants of what this life meant in the collective storage space that the world has always been, i guess it's still unknown. And yes, this might be that moment when fantasy dies and all that's left is what's real. 'Sinners sin, come out and play'.
The clock is ticking, i've made a choice and i hope my choice dooms me to face a metaphorical hell. I'm not giving up on giving up anymore. We cling on to anything when we face a true ending... When we grow tired of waiting, we let go and just hope for the end to come soon.
Should the fantasy be too bitter to abandon, and should this not be my fantasy, try creating something about Devadatta's redemption, if you will, someday...
Somebody whispered in my ear that this was something for birthday... Hmmm... I wonder why... Oboro-Zuki. 'Listen to Pale moon during the day'... 'If you need it, we'll be around'...
At least there'll always be ghosts around me. Signing off...
- Īr
__
Would this get that mystical updated sign? Probably not.
To sum things up, i guess that in a way i dreamt of, whether thru a lover or a parental figure, to face the same ending that Tsukasa from .hack//SIGN was lucky enough to get, as Bear decided to save the boy who was a girl from a horrible ending. Morganna Mode Gone is as real as it gets, and i sorta love all that mysticism. Oh well, no fantasies on this side of reality, in the end... The fantasies stay behind the screen, and this isn't P4 for me to jump inside the TV, nor that cruel world depicted in the game manages to become the fairy tale it turned into as Kuma/Alice shows up, nor this turns into P5, nor i get a true Persona or a ticket to Mementos. I only get to be haunted by the Grail. Too bad, i guess...
I tried watching .hack once and couldnt get into it, does it get better later or stay slow throughout?
It's always slow but it's once of those series that grows on you.
was it .hack//SIGN you watched? because there are tectonic plates which move faster than SIGN
slowest anime
go
my life
Endless Eight.