However, whenever I manage to get a new new computer, I'm going to insist on a full tower, because attempting to work in a midtower, with 2 harddrives, a floppy, a cd-rom and a tape drive and all those damn cables is just too much work. I mean, damn Slippy.
You stare at my picture.
Our third grade class.
All of us, smiling, excited,
In our best clothes.
But to you
the picture means more.
A memory, a dream.
A wish never ventured.
I think,
maybe I know,
maybe I guessed,
but like you,
I could never be sure.
So I never spoke,
and we'll never know.
Why couldn't you have spoken!?
You ruined my life!
Or maybe I ruined yours...?
You stare at the picture.
that is not there
and try to recall my face.
But you have lost me,
and all that is left--
a picture that might have been,
and a name that should have been.
That was the second installment of the Amanda Russell section of my poetry cycle Love Lives, which I fully intend to post all of to this diary.
This particular one was written from her perspective on the assumption that at the time she had feelings for me as well, and remembered them for a length of time exceeding that school year.
It refers to our 3rd grade class picture, which, by the way, I don't have a copy of. I have 1st grade, 2nd grade, 4th grade, my 6th, 7th, 8th, 10, 11th and 12th grade yearbooks, but not my 3rd grade picture, which is pretty much the only one I ever really cared about. At least I'd know what she looked like, and could extrapolate from there.
Oh, and how about a contest, yes, a contest. There's no prize, except you get to feel good about yourself. The contest is to tell me what the last line of the poem means. You can contact me by clicking on the contact me button to the left, or on ICQ at 48848762, or on AIM at Dagromorph or on YIM as Chris5675. And I know it's risky posting those in a public diary, because it basically gives anyone who wants it a license to irritate me, but understand, if you're going to bother talking to me, don't be a dumbass. Cause if you're being a dumbass, I will tell you in no uncertain terms that you are a dumbass and I don't want to talk to you, and if necessary I will call in some favors and have you hunted down and killed, or at least beaten (depending on how many favors I have left when the time comes).
Don't get me wrong, I'm always open for conversation, and meeting new people is great, but I deal with enough morons and halfwits and dumbasses and petty superficial whiney pussies and bitches and pigs and rat bastards on a normal basis. I don't feel even remotely inclined to waste more than 2 words on someone who doesn't interest me.
Just so you know, those 2 words are "Fuck you".
What, you need a better prize for the conest? Um...how about I write you a short story starring you...wait, no, that'd take work. Um...I know, if you get it right, next time I breathe (after hearing your answer) I'll think of you. That ought to be worth something. I mean, um...something.
So we played Magic last night. It's actually been quite a while, not counting the prerelease, which isn't really the same. Last night we played multiplayer. In fact, we played Chaos Magic.
I was the first to die both times.
I don't know what it is about me. I mean, I play multiplayer so damned passively. There have been times when I pretty much had the game, but I lost because I didn't bother to make use of it. And most of us play this way, we passively wait until someone hurts us before we do anything. I think I may shift to a more aggresive style of play sometime, just to see how I do.
I want to play Mental Magic. I want to play MutiAnni. I want to play Chaos Magic. I want to play Doomtown. I want to play Vampire. I want to play Legend of the Five Rings. I want to play them all, at the same time, and just enjoy the melodies.
Man am I mixing quotes today. The 'Damn Slippy' part earlier was from our constant playing of Super Smash Bros. The 'enjoy the melodies' part was from the Offspring's cd Smash.
Did I mention I've been up since about 3 this afternoon, and it's now 12:39 pm? That's almost 24 hours, and I don't really plan on going to sleep anytime soon (which I guess means I should log back into AIM and YIM. Now that I have a new system I'm actually using them, but I still think they suck. But I feel I should make myself more available, just cause it means I have more options, like more people to choose from when I go berserk and start axe murdering). I have serious problems, and who the fuck is coming in our house?
I have to work on the Chaos List, which is what I think I'll do next. And read God's diary, and someone else's, oh, Betsy's. I haven't talked to Betsy in a while. Plus I have to read Ravenna's...or perhaps I should say Dark Angel's essay, that she sent me in the mail. And I need to work on what files I'm going to share, and do some Napster stuff, oh, and this isn't even counting the webpage I have to do, presentation I have to work on, and take home test I have to finish this weekend. I'm glad there's no class today. I am so glad there's no class today. I bet there's other stuff I need to do, but I don't know what it is.
Maybe I'll join Elfwood and start sending them short stories. They need some short stories, so they won't feel bad about being beaten about the head repeatedly.
I wish I could actually download the Doomtown Card Manager. If caz still has the zip file, I'll get it from him.
Which reminds me, I need to bookmark Dreama's site, so I don't have to keep that e-mail in my mailbox.
Don't worry caz, I'm not going to bother her or talk to her or anything. You can continue to be as sad and pathetic as you wish.
hee hee
Okay, now I'm just getting silly. But you're gonna keep reading. You pretty much have to, cause if you don't, I might say something vastly important and insightful, and you will have missed it. I'm convinced that's the reason most of us are still alive right now and haven't killed ourselves. We're so afraid that if we die, we'll miss something really important or really cool, or spiffy even. Okay, and I can barely see well enough to correct my typos.
So I'm reading The Mageborn Traitor, second book in Melanie Rawn's Exiles. I wonder if I'm consistent on my style conventions with the names of these different things. I'm pretty sure I'm not, but I'm equally sure I don't care, which is good, cause if I cared, I'd be in deep shit.
Which reminds me, don't ask me how, I'm not quite sure how my brain is working yet, but today we discussed just how geeky we are, playing Magic and singing along with Weird Al. Ah, the geek quotient, and spending all day and driving myself hard to work on a computer, and not making any money off it.
But I can play Heroes III over the network now. Huzzah!
Oh damn, that was an exclamation point. That took a lot out of me.
At least I'm finally used to 1024x768 resolution again. I was in 640x480, but I've always thought that sucked. This new computer has a much better video card. Now I just need to beat caz and impale his head upon a stick.
I have to do it, Weird Al said I did.
Thank you very much-o Mr. Robot-o...
--Some People who sang some song
recent...
2000-10-06 - Do a little dance, make a little love, die a horrible death...um...wait...no.
2000-10-04 - I'm a lazy bastard.
2000-10-03 - Love Lives: Amanda Russell
2000-10-02 - Larin Bladespinner
2000-10-02 - More praise for my ever impressive talent.
Step Back ---/// Take a Step ///--- End of the Path