Finding solitude in shadows...hating the light

Today I sit here listening to depressing music and attempting to write.

I can't tell you how well that's not going.

But at least the music is keeping me from smashing the keyboard in frustration. I hate writer's block. It's like nails on a chalkboard ringing throughout my brain. I nearly visibly cringed when a thought NEARLY surfaced only to be lost. Heh. Why I keep attempting to write at all baffles me. Probably because I don't have anything better to do, aside from sitting here and blogging.

Hunger torments me. McDonald's calls to me. I'd burst into a cult-like chant (something to the effect of "McDonalds....McDonald's...come forth my Mcdonalds...") had I the energy to do so. Perhaps I'll go there later if I can find the money to do so. Meheheheheheheh. I have pennies...maybe I'll hand them six hundred of them to get a value meal.

And what a value meal I would have.

I'm in the mood for nuggets today. It's usually that, or the chicken sandwhich. And fries....oh...the glory that is fries. Some of my very being lives off of that stuff.

I think I'm going to shut up about food. The thought is giving me a headache.

Then again, I always have a headache.

This morning I was flipping through the channels and all I saw on TV were talk shows. Everywhere. They're a plauge only slightly less horrific than reality TV. What I don't understand though, is the really trashy ones. Dont' get me wrong, Jerry Springer showing us fat chicks wearing next to nothing and getting into a cat fight is briefly hilarious, but in the end, is incredibly stupd, and makes a mockery of our entire society.

Who would even want to be on the show anyway?

It's like voluntary public humilation. If you want to get into a fight, and argue with your ex or something, do so...but not on national television. And if some people find it overwhelmingly entertaining, doesn't that tell you that all you are is a pawn in the freakshow that is American television?

Apparently, no one seems to care whether it is or not.

But whatever. Television is crashing and burning anyway. Talk shows fueling the fire only make the death a little quicker...even if it is more painful for the rest of us.

Time to go and wallow in my Buffy DVDs.

I'd say "Fuck You", but that would be repetitive wouldn't it?

Another day for me to aimlessly blog about pointless things. Heh. I did get my comments thing working so if someone here is actually reading this (a shock in and of itself) you can now comment if the mood suits you.

I really don't have anything deep or profound to say today. To be honest, I should really just post what I have and leave it at that. But yet somehow I'm compelled to keep wasting bandwidth that isn't mine with trivial things.

Like discussing how pointless it is to be discussing how pointless it is.

If that was confusing, it wasn't ment to be, but I mock you if you are. Meh. Fuck this. This post is disgusting me in it's blandness.

Even in death you can never escape from yourself....

Sometimes I need to be reminded of why I like being antisocial. Today I got a blatant one.

I believe I mentioned a party in an earlier blog post. If I didn't, then I'm dillusional (*shrug*). In any case, I went dispite the fact I really didn't want to. Heh. I forced myself to go anyway just to at least say I've been to a party at least once.

It was the most boring moment of my entire existence.

That is saying alot. It beat out the time I got stuck at my Aunt's house, literally staring at a wall for three days straight without anyone to talk to, no TV, no CD player...nothing. I resorted to counting carpet fibers. (I lost count somewhere after 6,000 though...)

And even that didn't hold a candle to the boredom that was this evening.

The party itself wasn't that big. About 15 people. Unfortunately, five or so of them were The Brat's freshman friends. Their biggest thrill was walking up to a gas station a mile away and trying to convince the cashier to sell them cigarettes. I basically walked in, blinked, stared at the wall, and tried to listen to the Cradle of Filth CD playing ridiculously loud.

I suppose it might have been somewhat fun were I the type to goof off.

But I'm not.

Even the "host" was bored. We ended up having a whole conversation about how boring his party was. On one humorous note though, someone decided to jump into a trashcan only to accidently get himself stuck. Way to go moron.

I bailed early after being there for only two hours. The dark confines of my room seemed not so much cagelike anymore, as they did a dark oasis. Thankfully, one positive thing came out of this, I now have a copy of one of the OTEP CDs that I've been dying to listen to. After listening to it straight though I can honestly tell myself....it was so worth it. Just.....

I'm never doing that again.

Awaiting the end of the world with open arms and a loud "I Told You So"

I am so utterly sick of writing. Heh. Made an attempt at poetry last night. It didn't go well. Actually, I had to resist the urge to burn all of my past stuff.

Thankfully, I had a moment of brief rationality and didn't.

Where was the rationality when I started writing in the first place? Ugh. Hey, so I'm my own worst critic, but honestly it's so......mediocre. It's not bad, but certainly isn't what it should be. Paging through it all reminds me of one incredibly broken record. Saying the same thing, umpteen different ways.

Oh well. I'll just go reread the one or two that I'm actually really proud of and shut the fuck up.

Anyway.

I've discovered the joys of Internet radio these past couple of days. Oh the things I have been missing. It's cool being able to listen to a radio that basically plays whatever I want it to and without commercials. How I do loathe commercials. It ruins the flow of the dark, depressing music. I mean, who wants to hear about new deals at the local Ford dealership or some obscure concert by a band that sucks right after an ultra serious suicide song or something?

Not me.

That's actually one of the main reasons I stopped listening to the regular radio on my stereo. Instead, I just burn kick ass mixes all the while telling myself that someday I'll get the artists CDs.

Fuck. I've lost my ambition to continue. My thoughts are boring anyway. Maybe something of interest will inspire me tomorrow.

But don't hold your breath.

Screaming will get you nowhere....the whole world is deaf.

Finally it's all over. The fiasco known as Christmas has ended. Such relief I haven't known in years. But anyway, I'm sick of thinking about the holidays.

So I won't.

We bought a new house. Honestly, the designer/architect was mentally challenged. The outside is nice enough, but the inside....good god. Firstly, it has bathrooms fucking EVERYWHERE.

Two in one hallway is excessive.

Heh. And part of the cieling has what looks like fencing on it, and one room is covered in black shingles. I might like dark, but that's just plain ugly. But it won't really matter as we plan on remodeling.

The land itself is kinda neat though. 23 acres and two ponds stocked with fish. MUAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAA...

I can kill things. (or at least catch them).

Hopefully, the Bastardly Parental Units will come to their senses and give me the boathouse that came with the place. After all, privacy is everythng. Lurking is an art, that can only truly be perfected with one's own space.

In any case, we're moving somewhere in the near future.

I think.

I am of course, just waiting for it to all crash and burn. Why restrain my pessimism? Heh. Pessimism rocks, and is generally the one that holds true in the end.

Bah Humbug and Fuck You All

Belated birthday cards have been recieved today. I think I am going to be sick. One, from my worst enemy sent with a general "think for yourself, don't just go with the flow" comment of course directed at my parents. The other, from my Grandma on which I'm not on speaking terms with.

And now the Beast tells me I should call her.

Is my life just one awkward moment after another? I'm certainly beginning to think so. It's bad enough that they had the nerve to send me cards to begin with, but now to have to respond to one of them?

I fucking hate December.

Thankfully, this holiday season is coming to a close. Hopefully, nothing else will happen to further my ever darker mood. I did actually get some stuff that truly was only accepted for the benefit of my Mom's mood (even my inherent greed loses to my hatred of Christmas): some money, a DVD, a video (Rose Red-great horror movie), a black scarf that I'm never going to wear, and a pair of pajamas that I am going to burn the first chance I get.

I should probably be grateful and all that annoying nonsense, but the pointlessness of it all screams far too loudly in my head for me to be such a thing.

Now all that's left is for me to wait another 15 minutes for the ol' cell phone to charge and the call to be made. I am most definetly NOT looking forward to it. Ugh. I hate talking to people in general anyway so this should be just one hotter circle of the hell that is my life. But hey, I suppose I can make this into a lesson of subtle insult and cold apathy where it's not only unexpected, but unheard of.

Even a cynic must learn to look on the lighter side of darkness once and awhile.

When you're gone, it's only a matter of time before people forget you ever even existed.

The stupid holiday is almost over. I really can't wait. No, not in the ohmygodwhenamIgonnagetallthepresentsbecauseI'msuchagreedymaterialistic bastard sense. More of in the let's chuck the tree out the door and be done with it sense. I've had it up to here *hand is held above head* with all this festive cheer.

Like when I walked into Pick N' Save this morning and there were hoards of people waiting in outrageously long lines with big huge grins on their faces wishing each other various Christmas wishes.

Who needs horror movies when you have real life?

Thankfully, I had something to distract me today. The ol' brother came by. Heh. So I went over to his house and had a bit to drink. It's funny, he handed me a beer. I thought it tasted disgusting so I drank some whiskey instead. Ahhhhhhh......Drowning my holiday hatred in a bottle. Glorious.

This is the part where I glance over my shoulder to make sure the Bastardly Parental Units aren't reading this. That would be most unfortunate.

It seems the coast is clear.

Suddenly I'm really tired. A migrane seems to have begun testing those annoying pain receptors in my brain. I would go and sleep in my room were it not so ridiculously cold. No one should have a room quite that cold, and yet hey, I do.

I completley forgot whatever it was I had planned on blogging about. Instead of wasting the energy trying to remember, I'm going to say my last "Bah Humbugs" for the evening and crash at the keyboard.

When you start thinking you've reached Nirvana.....think about Cobain and go right back to rock bottom.

I. Have. DSL.

Nothing could have prepared me for how entirely different this makes things. I clicked on a video that I tried watching last week...but it took two hours and was only half done. This time....

four seconds.

Someone tell me that I haven't died and gone to Heaven, because if I have: 1.) I'm in the wrong place. 2.) It's too bright here.

Frankly, I just needed to blog about that. You know, boasting rights and all as I had to spend THREE HOURS trying to get everything to work properly. But in the end it all paid off, and I get to sit here now reveling in my genious.

There is one drawback however. We've switched Internet providers. Heh. We'll have both for about a month, giving me that long to email myself the 700+ links on my MSN favorites list. A daunting task indeed, but I think it's well worth the effort.

Meh. I'm cutting this short. My Internet bids me to bask in my newfound revelations. I of course, will post again tomorrow...or rather technically, later today.

Christmas lights have only one useful purpose.....strangling people infected with the "Holiday Spirit"

The mind wanders to blank places this evening. I think, yet there is nothing. Not a blank void mind you...I'm not searching for any ideas or inspirations...just blankness.

In other words: my entire being is in denial that I am in the middle of the holiday season.

To give you an idea of just how much in denial I am, consider this: I woke up this morning, trudged downstairs and saw a tree in the living room. My first groggy, I've-ventured-into-daylight thought was:

"Why the fuck is there a tree in my house?"

Of course, clairity and enlightenment came soon after but still I refuse to believe that Christmas is coming. Heh. In my mind, I've skipped over it already. Who knows, maybe someone took pictures and I can pretend to care about what happened later.

But probably not.

A day of extreme, yet glorious numbness today. Had to escort the She-Beast to her physical therapy. You see, I couldn't drive as the insurance company is being an epic asswipe about the rental car. Oh well. We're going to be getting the car back in a week or two anyway. See, they tried to salvage it by replacing the engine, and basically the whole front of the car.

And I get to be the guinea pig that's inevitablly going to get stuck on the side of the road in the freezing cold when it breaks down.

Heh. Today I said something in an IM conversation that is suddenly coming to me. (Yes, hello peaches). We were *cough* talking about Harry Potter, and I said something to the effect of (I might be a bit off, peaches, correct me if I'm wrong):

Me: To be sufficientlly British for the day, oh bugger.

Me: Sodding balls and all that rubbish.

For some odd reason, I found that last line insanely funny. So funny that I had to go and repeat it to The Brat in my near perfect British accent.

But no one really needed to know that, did they?

Sadists are rarely complimented....unless you're friends with someone like Hannibal Lecter

The pipes burst last night.

Is this the part where I break out into a joyous rendition of "Joy to the World"? Cause if it is, the "world" will be sorely disappointed. Credit to The Beast though, he managed to somehow fix it for the time being.

A master guitar player, a farmer, a plumber, a mechanic (sort of), a cook, an obbsessive compulsive over protective father, is there anything this man cannot do?

Call about my job apparently.

I won't complain much. We have working water and thankfully, no flooding. I wonder if it had flooded, and had the heat miraculously failed on us (as it does just about every week) if it would have turned to ice. A whole new meaning to an indoor skating rink. Meheheheheheheh.

That would have been real useful, as I suck at ice skating.

Today was unusually mundane. I woke up, got mail, washed dishes, and read. All of that encompassing about eight hours. Wow, how utterly interesting. It amazes me that I actually waste the energy to put this into my blog. Honestly now, I can't imagine anyone reading this to be in any ways enthralled with Tales of Dishwashing.

So I shall attempt to move to deeper, hopefully more interesting things. Make no mistake though, this is not for the benefit of anyone reading, this is for my own interest because when your own blog begins to bore you, something has most definetly gone awry.

The holiday season perplexes me. Quite deeply as a matter of fact. Living in America, the vision of the holidays are generally of a gloriously well decorated tree, with loads of perfectly wrapped presents underneath while the whole family gathers together merrily. Ugh.

But that's just a vision. Let us move to reality shall we?

The lights on that tree burn down thousands of homes every year, and the presents stuffed under it cause the bankrupcy of many a financially challenged person not smart enough to budget. The gathering of the family? Many times, a forced little reunion resulting in lots of drinking, swearing, and dark mutterings about ex spouses invited only because of their snotty, ungrateful kids.

So why does everyone pretend that it's this happy, magical time of year? Okay, so lying to oneself typically results in semi-tolerance for one's given situation, at least for a little while. But I think that after seeing some of those new Old Navy commercials with carolers and that little kid making some dumb attempt at being cute remark about the holidays......

we've gone way too far.

It doesn't matter how bitter and cold life can be....we're all going to burn someday.

My house is so fucking cold right now.

Would you like to know just HOW fucking cold it is? (Not that your opinion matters, I'm going to tell you anyway). I had a glass of soda...with ice in it.....about six hours ago...and the ice is STILL there. As in, freezing tempterature.

See? I'm not being overdramatic. Heh.

So instead of spending my day coming about as close as I can get to bliss by surfing the Internet, I shall be outside winterizing the house. Pardon me of my "Woo hoos" are a little on the unenthusiastic side. I'll save that for when I can walk in the kitchen and not see my breath. I really shouldn't complain though, the Beast was suprisingly gracious enough to leave me to my own devices (as I was using the computer, one can take that literally). And so.......

I spent fifteen hours online yesterday.

That's right, FIFTEEN HOURS of Internet bliss. I haven't had that kind of time in cyberspace since summer, and oh, how utterly my addiction grows. Someday I'm going to have to walk around with an Internet connection implanted into my arm or something.

AND OH I SHALL BLOG.

Heh. And I must say, my blog is coming along rather nicely isn't it? After all, SOME people I know (and some I don't) have difficulty posting once a month, or post for awhile and then leave it to just rot and waste bandwith. But no, I have the fortitude and determination of...well....me...heh, and my blog lives on. I can only strive to someday achieve a blog that has over 300 posts someday.

Blogger, I hope you've prepared yourself, she's in the for long haul this one.

MUAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA.

WARNING: Singing of Christmas carols will result in being shot on site

And so my Christmas vacation has started. Nothing much has really transpired (marvel at my fancy word MUAHAHAHA) today. Mostly sat in front of a computer and printer, surfing the net and copying business documents for The Bastardly Parental Units. I was supposed to do work for someone today, but the Beast wouldn't call and find out when he wanted me to come in.

All I gotta say is no one better bitch at me for not working. Heh.

After all, I can't call myself as it is my Dad's business connection. Sort of anyway. So I'm stuck. If nothing happens by Wednesday I'm going to say fuck it, and get a real job somewhere else.

In other news....

Today I had the most profound craving for apple juice. A craving like no other. The apples....they......COMMAND ME.

And even after drinking 1.36 Liters (that's the precise amount as stated on the bottle) of it, I still want more. Alas, we're out. But perhaps the craving will go away. If it doesn't, I'll have to go and buy some, and I so hate to waste my nonexistant money on such stupid things.

Meh, I'll just grab a Coke, and all will be right in my twisted little world.

In life, no matter how nice you are, just realize that at least someone hates you

Ever have one of those insanely awkward conversations online where you know you should say something, but draw an epic blank?

Cause I'm having one.

My cousin has IMed me, and the awkwardness ensued. Something about wanting to get together sometime this week. Heh. Oh joy. Apparently she hasn't got the memo:

I never go anywhere.

Anyway, so starts my Christmas vacation. I wore a black t-shirt to school saying "Bah Humbug" just for the oaccasion. But that's what you get when you have the audacity to wish me a Merry Christmas.

As If I'm going to have one.

The antisocial dark space in my head has been thrown for a loop as well. For some reason, someone actually invited me to a party.

My aren't I the popular lurker these days, heh.

The even more shocking thing is that I'm debating whether or not to go. If anything, I might just to be able to get out of the house one last time before damning myself to an eternity as a hermit (nevermind that I already am one).

So now it's off to obsessively trudgeing through cyberspace. And again: Bah Humbug.

Here Today, Blog Tomorrow.....NOT.

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I have the Internet back.

This day is glorified as no day has been glorified before. The multitasking of windows that has ensued is of dangerously epic proportions. But rather than drone on for hours about how great having my Internet back is, I'll instead post my offline blog known as the "Internetless Blog Chronicles II". Behold.

THE INTERNETLESS BLOG CHRONICLES II

November 10th, 2004
10:06 p.m.

Well, here I am again, stuck without my Internet. Clearly, my personal Hell wasn't torturing me enough so Life just decided to go and make it worse for me. As of this moment, I have been deprived of the Internet for a little over a week, and the prospects of me having back anytime in the near future are rather slim. Heh.

Oh joy.

As to the reason for this deprivation, many conficting, annoying factors contribute. Most of them can be attributed to the Beast who's foul mood has reached epic proportions as of late. Arguments ensued, and I have been holed up in my room for the most part, speaking very little. I tell you, only years of being antisocial have prepared me for such utter isolation. Now, you may be thinking that one week isn't much. After all, what's the difference if you don't speak to anyone anyway? A big one. A major, earth shattering factor that fuels my very sense of being:

The Internet.

Let us all remember that I am the Almighty Internet Addict. If you are a reader that has been motivated (and perhaps admirably stupid) enough to read my past posts, you will find testaments to that fact everywhere. Specifically in reference to blogging.

Must...blog....must...blog....Heh. Which is what I'm doing now, in a strangely makeshift manner. It's my own little way of pretending that I am in fact, basking the glory that is the Internet while in reality, I have nothing. Meh. This is all giving me a headache. Moving on.

It seems I've caught a cold. I suppose when it rains, it pours eh? Suprisingly, this is not good news. Normally I'd be more than willing to exaggerate my illness in a generally successful attempt to stay home from school. However, at this particular moment, school is that proverbial grass on the other side. Hmmm......Honestly, I think my extreme isolation has left me severely braindamaged as this "post" seems to be growing increasingly pathetic. I should probably end it now, but I won't as I really don't have anything else to do.

You know what? In a moment of brief retrospection, I've decided that I will in fact, end this post in a futile attempt to salvage whatever dignity I had. Here's hoping that I can manage to post something vaugely more coherent tomorrow.

November 12th, 2004
11:10 a.m.

So this isn't quite the tomorrow I had intended on. Meh. Oh well. Home sick today. Normally, this would be a day to revel in, basking in the glory of the Internet. Of course, taking into account the name of this "blog" series, it's fair to assume that I am not basking. Instead, I'm merely passing the time until my doctor's appointment which is in about a half hour.

Heh...it occurs to me that I can't remember basically anything about the last couple of days. Woah. That's almost cool......Meheheheheheeh......Some sort of subliminal amniesia I suppose. Dammit, now that I went and mentioned it, it's slowly coming back to me. Grrrr....and I was having a nearly blissful moment of ignorance.

I really should just go to the library and go online, (Yes, I'm STILL going on about this) however I have a ridiculously obscene library fine: $14. I'm lucky if I have five of that in quarters. Hmmm......MUAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA.....

A plan hath taken form.

I think that desperate measures need to be taken. Indeed....covert attempts at swindling money from The Bastardly Parental Units are needed. Hell, non-covert ones if need be. Oh yes....the internet WILL BE MINE ONCE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In case you haven't noticed, I just took the proverbial leap off the edge.

See you at rock bottom.

November 20th, 2004
1:42 p.m.

Time for another long overdue post in the IBC II. So, my desperate measures didn't work quite as planned. I still reside in my proverbial cell, Internetless, and increasingly lifeless as the minutes tick by. Long winded? Yeah, I thought so too. But really now, I have nothing in the slightest to do aside from take out my sadistic tendancies on my new(ish) Sims 2 game. No places to go, no ablity to were I to HAVE that place to drive to, no job or ability to get one, no friends (not complaining there)....nothing. Admittedly, I rely on the Internet a bit too much for my own good, but do I care? Not particularly.

Anyway.

Today we actually got out of school an hour early......because of a football game. I learned this a couple of days ago and in that moment, fully, and entirely realized-moreso than before-just how overly sports oriented my school has become. If I see another blue and gold shirt, I think I'm going to set it on fire (those are the school colors were you moronic enough to not get that).

Shit, the She-Beast just came home. That wasn't supposed to be for another six hours yet. Excuse me while I plaster on my fake hi-I'm-not-overwhelmingly-annoyed-to-see-you face and see what she wants.........

Heh. Still unsure. She trudges and demands things to be brought to her. I indignantly comply, if only to keep what precious little computer I have left. However, she did pay for my Senior pictures today apparently. The amount of the bill was staggeringly obscene:$2021.00. WHO THE FUCK WOULD SERIOUSLY PAY THAT MUCH FOR A GODDAMNED PICTURE?

Aside from her of course.....

They turned out well....gloriously dark and all that, but no amount of darkness warrants a bill like that. Ugh.

I don't really have much left to post about. My mind is in a state of blankness. Any deep thoughts or introspections I might have had have utterly left me. Perhaps then, I'll take to staring at the wall.

November 21st, 2004
9:15 a.m.

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....This may perhaps be my last entry in the IBC II for the Internet may be mine once more.That, or on Monday depending on whether or not the phone company is rude enough to be closed. Imagine my suprise when I woke up to such news. Well, I suppose one doesn't really have to imagine it as I am painting an all to clear picture of it right here. I should probably be thankful that I don't have nearly as much to catch up on as I did last time.

Meh, I'll save thanking until I actually am posting this on Blogger.

Now I'm well aware that I'm cutting this rather short, but the Sims 2 calls to me (for I know it will be left untouched after the Internet comes back to me). So I shall leave in near hopes that this will be the last time I ever have to post in an IBC again.

December 5th, 2004
6:08 p.m.
Obviously, by my posting here, I have been sorely dissapointed in my Internet being returned to me. Having managed to sneak online at school though, I've gloriously been able to blog-abliet rather shortly. Well....aside from one rather vhement rant about how judgemental and ridiculously biased my school's newspaper is.

But that's another story entirely-one I've already told.

You know, there is one perk about not having the Internet......I'm almost as hallucanigenic and dillusional as I am when I've gone without sleep for a few days. I've taken to a routine of pretending that I have the Internet. Sound strange? It is. I wake up in the morning and do my usual crawl downstairs like the walking dead, proceeding then to the Place of Glorious Caffine (the fridge) and then to the computer.

There's a reason I saved fanfic on Microsoft Word. Behold it.

Unfortunately, that only goes so far. Heh. How far you may perhaps be asking (but more than likely aren't) what exactly is so far?

My hardrive.

Stupid cheapass lets-run-out-of-memory-at-the-most-rudely-horrifically-inconvientent-times-just-to-mock-me-and-make-me-lose-my-documents bastard.

Yeah, I've basically run out of every form of memory on my computer as well as had half of my existing files corrupted because hey, the Bastardly Parental Units don't understand the concept of virus protection and Internet security. Heh...guess that's all rather irrelevant now though eh?

Tomorrow's Monday. I have no desire to go to school. A great debate takes place in Darkland: stay home or go to school. On the one hand, staying home would allow me to wallow in my self pity without unnecessary distractions. On the other, I could perhaps sneak in a few moments online to blog and check my email. Oh the utter, unspeakable temptation to get absorbed into a fanfic completely unfettered by the teacher looming menacingly in the rather short distance. I see no end to my internal war. Just have to go with the proverbial flow and wait.

Which in Lamen's terms means that I'll wing it at the last minute tomorrow morning when my alarm goes off and groggily decide which hell is worse.

For now, I'll let my dark mind wander to other things: videogames.
I've had my PS2 for about a year and a half now, and I have a whole whopping five games. They are as follows: Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy X-2, Grand Theft Auto III, The Sims, and Kingdom Hearts.

No one is sick of these games, as I am sick of these games. I crave nothing more than a good brawl in Mortal Kombat or that violent game that has to be bootlegged cause it was too violent to be released (can't remember the name though). Funds are lacking however, and I'm stuck with what I have. Honestly though, there are only so many times one can trudge through Spira in Final Fantasy, and only SO many times you can witness a sim take a shit before you start to wonder what the hell you bought that game for, and only so many hours you can stare at the bright Disney colors before you half wish you were blind, and only so many times you can be the badass sniper on the roof killing old people before that incredibly fake looking blood loses it's sadistic sheen.

I won't even get started on PS One, N64, Sega Genisis, Gameboy, or yes, even Super Nintendo games.

I'd like to say I'm going out of my mind in boredom, but that would imply that I was sane at some point. And I do so hate to be misleading. Meheheheheheheh. I suppose instead I can put it like this: when your hallucinations start having hallucinations, you know you're in trouble.

December 6th, 2004

Well, as any somewhat literate reader of this blog might gather, I'm convinced that the Universe is mocking me. Today, I have proof.

Oh the proof I have.

You see today, like most Mondays, sucked, and when I came home ready to lurk up to my room, I noticed something. There was a message on the answering machine. Of course, I had a moment of pure, unspeakable hope when I realized that ONE HAS TO HAVE A WORKING PHONE TO GET MESSAGES. Now, here I was thinking "Holy fuck, my Internet is back" when I stopped and looked at the rather rude looks on the Bastardly Parental Units Face. Hope died-as it always does-when Cynicism took over and I asked:

Me: "Do we have the phone back?!?!!?"

Them: "No."

Me: "So then WHY is there a new message on the answering machine?"

Them: "Meh."

Me: *look of hateful understanding* "Oh, let me guess, we really do have the phone back, and for some strange reason, I can't use the Internet."

Them: "Yep."

It seems as though while we have the phone hooked up again, it's all long distance charges for the moment. As always, no Internet.

11:14 p.m.

Dammit, I'm sick. I think I should perhaps change this to the Internetless Complaining Chronicles. So much complaining seems to be spewing forth it's nearly obscene. But then again, who here REALLY cares?

Not me.

And that's all that really matters in the end.

I get out of having to go to school tomorrow. My attendance record is coming along nicely. I believe I've missed somewhere in the realm of 12 days so far. MUAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA. I must say, living on a farm does have one perk: abscences are slightly more forgiven. Heh. Which means that once I hit that 21 day mark and the Big Bad Office People start stalking me, I have a vaugely legitamate alibi. Glorious isn't it?

The agenda as such isn't quite the hell I had anticipated. Firstly, I get to pick out a rental car to drive as the She-Beast totaled ours (thank you reckless driving bastards). I'm crossing my fingers in hopes of a Hummer, but I certainly won't be holding my breath. Blue isn't particularly my color.

It's all about the black.

All of this pointless information has caused my now pounding migrane to get ever so much worse. Excuse me while I go wallow in my room with a giant, epically helpful, family-sized bottle of Advil.

December 7th, 2004
11:30 a.m.

A Dodge Ram??!?!?

BLASPHEMY.

Henry Ford surely must be turning in his grave as one of his loyal followers is forced to drive that vile disgrace of a vehicle.

Ahem. Anyway, that's what I'm stuck with. I'm rather peeved with the Beast however. I could have gotten a brand new Mustang but nooooooooooo, it was a sports car, and hell forbid me having one of those. Mehehehheheheheh. The only consolation I have at the moment is the hope that it will be black. But of course, knowing my notorious bad luck, it will be white.

I have however, tapped into a bit of my genious. The Internet just might be mine today. Oh yes, today. But a call to the phone company must be made first and then.....oh...and then...THE INTERNET.

Does anyone else find this visible record of me completely losing it, utterly entertaining? I'm sure one day I'll look back in it, cringe in horror, and then proceed to laugh sadistically as I suavely mutlitask 50 different windows with my cable internet connection on my slick Alienware computer.

A nutcase can dream can't they?

Actually, the bit about the Alienware computer isn't merely a dream, but that mechanical light at the end of the tunnel. You see, the Bastardly Parental Units owe me money. A nice portion of it. That, and coupled with my graduating this year, results in me getting one. I just have to wait a couple of months.

Theoretically anyway.

Note: Pencils should never be used as projectiles...use pen instead-ink poisoning

Heh. I've been working on this "report" for about five days now. Suspicion is likely to be aroused soon. Fuck it, I don't care.

And here's hoping they don't monitor swearing on the computer.

I hate school newspapers. (And no peaches, that wasn't just because you are strange enough to want to start one heheh.) Why? Specifically, because of a little article appearing in ours today about "Goths". Indeed, I have maintained that I am in fact, not a goth, but the near slander of that which is darkness was appalling. Of course, they picked anyone who happened to be wearing a little black eyeliner and some black.

What does this mean?

According to the newspaper and interviewees:

".....are not really different from everyone else"
"just like to have fun"
"Why do they dress like that?...."A big part is the shock factor"

Heh. That, and Goths are comparable to King Kong. I'm not sure whether to be amused by that or completely offended. I'll just go with both. Makes things much easier, and as I am in school, that is a very good thing.

Should I be ranting on about this? Yes. Mostly because taken in context, they make everyone who could possibly be considered goth sound like a happy, preppy person who just dresses like that so that Mommy Dearest pay attention to them.

Whoever thought darkness could be ruined? I'd grumble, but you know, silence rules and all that. So instead I'll just sit here silently huffing about the injustice of it all while I mock them all because hey, my chains are better than their chains. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA.

Heh. Immaturity is so much fun.

I am done ranting now. Just had to take that rather brief moment to publicly ridicule my school. I'll be off basking in my sadistic tendancies now.

You can't truly be considered evil until you've been offered an exorcism

Posting again from Study Hall Hell, though I am still Internetless. What can I say? Cyberspace is addicting. Oh well.

I hate to say it, but the Internet may have perhaps slipped outof my grasp for another couple of weeks yet as my Mom so rudely totaled our car last night.

That was cold wasn't it?

Of course, it should be. My addiction to cyberspace is at dangerous levels. But yeah......

I've decided that for the time being, I'll just attempt to sneak on here as I am so suave in that respect. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. I'd say fear me and all that sadistic, evil stuff, but that would probably blow my cover (I'm working on "a report" you see). I don't really have anything of particular note to share, and I think I've mentioned my lack of Internet enough times to last a lifetime.

A final thought for the day: Cloaks are not to be referred to as "cloakys", the same is true for blades and "bladys". Usage of the above grievances will result in torture needles being thrown at you (you know who you are) from my Internetless lair. *manical laughter*