Raaaaage!

I woke up today to a good day, I wished. It seems good days are all parts of fairy tales and bullshit. No, the good day probably exists, somewhere, just not in my cursed life. For what happens the moment I get up with a healthy attitude to the day at hand? Something rushes through the woods of improbability to intercept what could turn out as something as horrible and unspeakable as a friggin, good day. "Everybody says that Jeppe drinks, but nobody asks why Jeppe drinks." Oh I bloody wonder. Let's see if running water and cleaner body helps at all.

*showerbreak*

Well, I'm cleaner, that's for sure, but other than that there is little difference. I'm still in a black mood. I see little point in furter writing. 

On Crimes and Dreams

Would it be a crime if I were to dream a dream?
Would it be heard if I screamed a scream?
Was it you who lay your head there on my pillows?
Resting your eyes to the sound of the willows?

Serene as the light, you're in my dreams tonight
For with your memory I will sleep with delight

Even though you're far away from where I now sleep
You will forever surface from my deep
To bask in the moonbeams of my dreams' pond
To take me to happiness, bliss and beyond

Now I sleep deeply with you on my mind
Resting so sweetly, laying worries behind


So there you have it, my latest writing. Inspired by an anonymous beauty. However somewhat unexpected. Maybe it is love? Maybe it is destiny?... or just one of those things that happen. Who am I to know anyway? I can barely keep my head out of a somewhat dense, fictional reality anyways.

A rose petal

A rose petal falls

     Contemplation

Ripples spreading out on serenity

Tiny waves of potential

Throughout the magical universe                                                                                                                  

A rose petal falls

     Reflection

A face in the forest pond

Looking towards the sky

Thoughts and dreams heavenbound                                                                                                                  

A rose petal falls

     Destination

With steady wingbeats  through the clouds

Heading headfirst for destiny

Going for that beautiful horizon                                                                                                                         

A rose petal falls

     Determination

Through wind and rain with ease

Standing tall in the eternal

Always vigilantly watching over                                                                                                                         

A rose petal falls

     Salvation

Mind leaving withered body

Going for that place

Where minds are laid to rest

 

The frustration of love.

"Go on and kiss the girl" I would if I could, damn you. But raising an angry fist towards the gods of fate doesn't get you anywhere does it? So as days pass you get force-fed with all the happy people, being happily in love, living happily forever after. Everyone knows that humanity is frustrated, but none ask why. And it's the power of love that binds us together and lifts us up. And it's the power of love that keeps us alive and well. And it's the power of love that drives individuals into despair, that kills, that maims. GOD bless the power of love! Worthless piece of..... Alcohol keeps us alive and uplifted, damnit! I think the past had a great deal on the whole "love" consept. "Love is ok, but let's keep a practical view on it. You two look like you're the proper age, so love each other!" Or maybe I'm just ranting. Point being I guess: STOP RUBBING IT IN YOU ASSHOLES! Bloody *mumble mumble* I might be in a bad mood.

Sad puppy says miao

A cry for attention sounds through the halls of existence. Rebounding off every wall trying to stirr up people, animals, ghosts, whatever. A shriek, a howl, a roar. You turn your head for a moment, more out of surprise than care, but honestly you don't. So when the sound fades from your hearing, you pay it no more attention. And why should you? It's not like you don't have your own worries. And so time passes. In time even the memory of an echo melts in with the surroundings and the attention so desperately sought after is never given. But no new cry will be heard, no. One learned the first time around the futileness of hope. The well grows deeper and one accepts its depths with less effort. And inevitabily one drowns, in despair.

Mass Effect

It's really a shame to start the new year with something as banal as this, but this is what I shall do nonetheless. I'm going to do my very first game review. The simple reason for this being that I have been sitting up all night playing Mass Effect. However rather than pulling the game apart like most reviews I want to try another aproach. Heck, I'm not even going to mention the actual game that much. In the words of one of my favourite artists, Regina Spektor, "It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope, which then grew into a silent thought..." I'm just going to let you know my feelings, then perhaps you can make the thoughts? First feeling is slight discomfort at the fact that I never use an X-box controll-pad, however I am easily distracted away from that as soon as I get to make my character..... Weeeeee, I love that! Seriously. And again we see the oh so common transformation as I become Fatali. Be it Fatali Shepard or Fatali Dawnmist or even Fatali Arcanum. Then I get to the actual game and I'm slightly agitated. "KoToR!" And I have to admit that with that exclamation, a certain anticipation is made. I play some, plowing through the introduction to the main story, somewhat halfawake throughout it all, with some glee during a couple of nice details... and then, I am suddendly God. I swear, that's the feeling I had as I got the universe at my fingertips. And you DO have the universe at your fingertips, cuz you have a HUGE spectre of stars and planets to explore. But I digress, for the real feeling comes when the story peaks towards an end. As I planted that last slug into the main bastard's chest area I could feel my heart beat as a drum in wartime. The controller which started out as an awkvard plastic chunk in my hands had at some point become an extension of myself. That happens only a few times, with only a few games. True enough I had some moments where I wanted to throw the controller around, and one where I actually did, but some flaws had to be I guess.... It's still night.....

I don't know. I honestly have no clue... *sigh* It ain't supposed to be easy is it? Ever? Miao... So the update is as following: I've been at this year's last great parties and I dearsay they were great; the alcohol was litterally flowing. Down my throat that is. And I had great fun and enjoyed myself in general. So why do I complain? What can possibly twist my brain to that extent when all seems so great? Lots of things, loads actually. I think humanity is doomed to gloom. If all is well we go out of our ways to find something that makes us able to feel miserable.