God I miss the PS2 days

I can't stand playing all these deep RPGs I know and love, on library computers... I feel like someone's watching my face/reactions constantly, so whenever the good bits come up I just DENY them the pleasure of what I feel the game is depreciated, having even 10% of my attention detracted from its glory~

I miss the days of playing PS1/PS2 games with my best friends, so bad...

I can't even stand to listen to, online, people talk about Baldur's Gate, Champions of Norrath, much less all the classic RPGs like aaaall the final fantasies...

It breaks me more than any pain I face today, living homeless again in the desert (and that, fresh outta a tweaker-den like every self-respecting 25-30 year old American); the memories with my closest friends from all the years I played those games, all the little moments we had and all the challenges we set for each other, and ourselves in each oher's company... there is no recapturing that same spirit.

But God only knows, it still lives on in me. Not a day has been lost since I last parted with my true and only friends, and comrades.

I await them rediscovering that.

I'd rather never see them again in this life than taint those memories with new hope- somehow I persist.

Like a hidden wound, unkempt and uncared for.

Seeking to grasp but failing in sadness.


*New Hope reference- playing that piece of shit just proves my point.

You know you ain't enjoyin the game if ur usin Blue Mage...

so damn nervous and on-edge these past couple years, I swear to God I'd rather be homeless anywhere else than couchsurf, even, anywhere down here... I've officially made a scourge of myself, down here in the desert... nothing but darkness comes easily. and that, with the twisted ever-overshadowing memory of light...

still ain't finishin Wheel of Time series- I go at my own pace! You have problem?!

I miss the HELL outta Final Fantasy XI

That's all I gotta say- sometimes I'll be walkin around  n just rehashing the hell outta all the awesome times I had... So many people say it but it can't be stressed enough- FFXI around ps2 release and the next like five years after, were probly the best years of MMORPGing since the original Everquest was out and Dungeons and Dragon-tier level nerddom/remoteness~

I daydream of playing again, no-holds-barred, with my friend Brad again... Man I miss it so much... miss everything about being with my old friends...

I daydream, too, about going back to Flag, and singing on stage at some bar all my friends just happen to walk into... and I can't find tears for anything else in my life but the swelling of sentiments that surges through m... so much hope still remains, so much optimism... but not here... not where I am, now.
It's like I'm being 'payed' to pacify my own natural inductance~
If I was back up in Flagstaff, so much more would be alive in my life, in the world, these days...

I will return~ I will see them all again, and songs will be sung.

But if I could get into a pad and feel secure enough to get into Final Fantasy XI again, or hell just play FFXI at all, anyways~ Fuck it, FFXI is goodfeels like no other~

Siren, or Sylph server, last time? Valaquwnta~ aye you can solo with Trusts and with an LS like that wouldn't even feel like less than a party, like the old days~

immigrant song

It's amazing how after so much still time, so much of who we are simply falls away like caked dirt...

And me- without my old friends, and my family stretched to impeccability's ends just to hold me aloft- who the hell am I to become-?

Where do I go now, now that I am here?
'tis not what I wanted...
...'tis what I fear

or some shit.
fuck you inner conscience- fake alien broadcasts. if you were such a fuckin conscience, you wouldn't constantly make me feel like shit. what kind of fuckin conscience is that?

too fucking weak, is what it is. my feelings are beyond you.

I need a laptop- time to make my game

I realize most of my current depression could stem from relentlessly being dosed with heroin and speed, but for reals, I'm so depressed these days I can't even find the heart to start a new file on a classic RPG...

There's this sense of imperminence to it all- I feel like I've seen the potential for such plasticity in the world, in hmanity in general, that to even persist at all is like adding to the damage... the scarring.

Iam further in debt and further from moving forward at all, than ever before... No one exists in my proximity that strengthens me... my family is waiting for me to die off, trying to hold a smile so the pictures can look good when it happens.

God, how I wish I could be back at Cody's, playing video games and living with such love, and brotherhood as I've never known... my heart burns tears too hot to streak my own face... eyes just perpetual wells of water... I hate my memories for the hope they extinguish... 

more bs about the bullshit

My ma's been sending me like 30 bucks at LEAST once a week for how long...
My pops- can't even talk about it...

All because the tax code prohibits being a dependant at ALL after 19/24 depending on student status! Oh unless you are decreed permanently DISABLED. In which case, why would you need to be a dependant at all, since you'll be bribed by the gov't/private interests, anyways, like a thousand bucks a month in 'disability'!

It's all bullshit- we need someone to audit these mofuckers, and I'll be damned if anyone with 'legitimate credentials' is the one we NEED to do so! Cuz you can bet their asses have already been compromised, that's for damn sure. Unless they were so well-off, they couldn't relate or be comin from the bottom-feedin majority that needs a hero, anyways!

FUCK THIS SYSTEM

fukk god, what's usual

Dad I swear to you this- I don't give a damn who DARES say you owe ANYONE ANYTHING- for a system so hell-bent/dependant on money, they sure aim for our emotional cores with a marked antipathy that alludes to their mock-progress agenda.

There can be no agenda, no game plan, when facing the unknown. And it takes a coal mine of industrialized progress and ~40 years, from what I gather, to concentrate even appreciable cents of irony... 

All I'm saying is, I don't get blue-blood humor or something, but somebody owes my father a helluva lot more than Seinfeld for a son

more unshed tears to my pops...

so much I wanna say to my old man, but just can't send to him, after I've written it...
yet I feel it all so much the whole time...

here's to dumping more of that shit, since I write it and yet don't even put it out there, anyways, and can just cut and paste it *yay blog friggin post for once again*

~~
And you have not even the reprieve, the relief, the release- of my progress- to hold your head up through the storm of my wintry heart's iceage.

'Death would freeze my buried soul/ What makes me happy, makes me cold...' '...fill my dreams with flakes of snow/ soon I'll feel the chilling glow' '...lying, snowblind, in the sun/ will my iceage ever come..?'
-Vol 4, Snowblind

No wonder death wants me so badly; what an investment in potential, positive momentum... the pendulum's rebound from that wind-back would swing...

like a bat out of hell... 

'He finds his heaven/ spewing from the mouth of hell'
'In empty burning, hell's unholy one/ but he's returned to prove them wrong... so wrong'
-Ozzy, Bark at the Moon

'I've been the king of skitzophrenia- the best of the earth/ I forged my soul in the fires of hell// peace of mind's eluding me, but now it's alright/ I simply try though it wants me to fail'

I think I can do better than Iommi/Geezer on that last pull from Sabotage's Megalomania- go figure Ozzy, senseless-seeming to those brooding intellectual giants ever-lurking in the background on stage, well Ozzy was actually cresting their waves so good he had a hard time keeping them up to speed... explained himself pretty thick in solo years huh...
~~

sleepin with the tundra blowin on....

...
glass house jokes aplenty with this guy~

but for reals, just sayin-

its back to the bushes with me these days...

sleepin on the tarmac of dirt they call Sonora, tucson

Just Me

alone, sleepin in the woods/desert again...


as usual...



waitin for God knows what to do what the fuck



not much going on...


I hate my life...


fuck all~

Can't Wait Til I'm Out of This Town

It's been nothing but personal battle and spiritual, soul-tempering fire out here in Drexel Heights, AZ~

If I leave, then my old man will be all alone out here... I can't abandon him for this- not for any of this measly shit. Nothing I've faced here is worth calling 'enough' for love's sake~

But as I was thinking earlier today- of that Bono song- '...what more, in the name of love..?'; surely all this pain, hatred, and raw chaos is..?

Nah, nothing's enough... the more I see...
   ...the less likely to finish that sentence, I am, lol.


Just sucks cuz the whole time I've been here, I've been telling myself kinda, that it's 'an exception'. Just kinda DOING it but without it making any sense, like reasoning out my intentions is some breath I found I didn't have to just hold, I could also just breath from somewhere else, or not not-breath or somethin lol~ mama mia, I'm a poodle~

rawr looks like i'll be sleepin in the woods again tonight garrrrrr

err desert, chaparral, whatever

been a long time since i haven't been able to say 'its been a long time'

with true love- nothing ever depreciates.

case in point- then we have these little fuckin reptiles out here they will spell the mother fuckin words NO-THING
and even worse, the cats that stack it like the images (or what your eyes see) themselves, is the images....

ya gotta take all that -and all this- (see what they make me dew?)


i hear these cats speakin in the rooms down the hall at campus, here at pima desert vista southwest campus , and every day it's the same damn droning on... from them, and the automobiles ripping down the street, and the jet planes in the air, and sometimes I even get so damn funk-gyphyde that i can hear whole sentences in the pings of a keyboard stroke, footfalls, etc...

it's like I can attune positive and negative values to all things, but, my sense of what's gold and lead..

even now, the heaviness permeates the air around me... i have no static charge, no umph of my own , it seems...

and trust me they have payed a lot and a long fuckin time to make me even say that, and I should be grateful...

that's how fuckin oppressing, these goddamn radio waves out in tucson are.

STO{ blastin our planet with cellphone signals! holy shit man!

im too in the god damn moment, being spoon fed by these god damn commie bastards up here. just the ambient mood- knowing that i'm here, unwanted, as a pervasive force;  it's enough to piss me the hell off.

it really infuriates me when I think of how these motherfuckers out here can go out rappin ''they're' isn't 'their'' while their front fruggin teeth are meffin! Fucked up how these fat sons of sheriffs, as they claim to be, are actually -

but who cares, right?  

all i know is- i got a tail, out here in tucson. and it's pissin me off!

Someone's on my ass and it's for the wrong kind of reasons, at their end, to begin with, too! so FUCK YOU!
and if that ain't a compromise, then- fuck em! talk to me about it. jesus fuckin christ