(This was originally posted on my Sheezyart account about 10 seconds ago, I decided to post it up here as it's been an excruciatingly long time without an update, life's been fast-paced lately, I have an extremely long list of things to write here, and today I don't have the time, but I will get to it soon. My own eloquence pleases me, and hence after reading this entry of mine, I decided to post it here as a promise that updates will come in due time. Hold on people, my journal is still alive.)

Stop making Journals, start making art.
Liek srsly.
I've gone through all the piled up art updates, even the ones I was supposed to check months ago, I subscribed to a shitload of people so I could start seeing new shit more often. But all I got was more journals to read. There are more interesting things to read than your journals, like "Hardcore Zen" or the sex pistols "Bill Grundy" incident, one of the five times in history that anyones swore that much on daytime television.

But hey, since everyones in a circle-jerk of reading about eachothers not-so-interesting lives and quiz answers, why don't I join in? Hell, this place is starting to feel like facebook!

These past few weeks I've had two emo girls living with me at my place. One's my ex, the others my girlfriend. It's hard for me to decide which one is sexier. My girlfriend texts her ex way too much for my liking, but considering I kinda stole her in the first place I'd find it way too ironic to tell him "Back the fuck off from my girlfriend buddy".

The cops busted down my door yesterday 'cause they're both runaways. Even though we were at Zoe's house the day before, and Lana's parents kinda let her bring her clothes to my place so she could stay with me. And Zoe is involved in "Dangerous Behaviour" which means she's going to a group home or to live with her dad on friday. If by "Dangerous Behaviour" they mean sitting at her ex's place all day watching Forest Gump & Fight Club, then I better stop watching movie's or the safety of my existance is at stake.

I got hospitalized for a suicide attempt and pretty much everyone I ever knew showed up and I woke up wondering whether it was my birthday or I was on my deathbed. They gave me a bunch of needles and I was hooked up to an IV for some time before they made me talk to a psychiatrist and they gave me a metric fuckton of happy pills so they wouldn't have to deal with me again and I wouldn't have to go back to the doctors to tell him I need more pills, since I really hate doing that.

Honestly though, I don't care that me & Zoe broke up. She cheated on her new boyfriend like, 4 times. My dad thought she was dating my best friend (Which makes me giggle profusely because it just proves my point further) and I dunno, she's just not anything I thought she was. Period.

And me & the pixelpunks have been dead as fuck. Makes me worried. I know I'm Nikki Sixx and I practically run the band and write the lyrics but I'm not too strung out on heroine or whatever to take care of business. I'm just in love. And Jon turned 18 this month. I'm turning 18 in about 2 months. I've kinda run outta time for screwing around with my education and my work and all that. I actually gotta get it done. I know it's horrible that I'm neglecting things I love doing, like spriting, and starcraft, and MMO's, but as I stated, I'm outta time for those things. I don't want the pixelpunks to die. I know we haven't worked on Project 7 for a long time, but I refuse to cancel it. In fact, the only thing I really wanna cancel is the scratch sprite base we were working on for it. I know thats admitting defeat as scratch sprite artists, but fuck it, Project 7 is the only dream I've ever held onto, for about 5 years in fact, And I'm never letting it go. Not til it's finished. It's my Duke Nukem Forever and for fucks sake, I will make it one day.

As for Anime? Well, I watched Berzerk. It was definitely worth the watch but just like trigun, the Manga is way more confusing to keep up to date with. I also showed Lana & Zoe Full Metal Jacket, and Clockwork Orange. Sometimes I think Zoe was born under a rock or lived a really sheltered life or something. But that doesn't make alot of sense to me. She's had sex already but she hasn't seen Fullmetal Jacket or Starwars. What the fuck. This town is backwards.

Also, first night we're going out? Some jackass from the past who I thought was a youngen starts hitting on my girlfriend, calls me a japanese poser faggot. So I call up my friends, and me and 4 other guys beat his ass with a skateboard, fists, boots to the face and I manage to stab the fucker twice with a screwdriver. His long shaggy ass mop was too fucking greasy to grab a hold of though.

...Yeah, don't fuck with me, and never, ever hit on my girlfriend, especially when I can hear what you're saying. [XD]

Sad part? He started it, I won, And I would gladly stab the fucker again. Seriously. He kinda finished the list for things not to fucking do in this town and he paid for it. Welcome to the Wonk.

Anywho, my friend's pregnant girlfriend dumped him, and she's getting an abortion. What a fucking bitch. But honestly, I'm glad they broke up, I think he should spend less time on that bitch, he's way better than that, and she doesn't deserve a fucking guy like that watching her ass. I hate girls with big family's. They always get what they want and they have nothing to stop them from being the worst kinda scum on earth.

As for my other friend, his super-christian girlfriend he's had for like, the past year, or so, pretty much told him the other day thier entire relationship is a lie. And hence I hate her and she's re-affirmed my belief that all Christians are horrible people who go and write letters to Mr Jesus in thier head so they can feel they're being good and changing the world when really they're just singing karaoke with a bunch of other tards in a big candle-lit room every sunday so they can pretend for a moment that they're not composed of the same smelly biodegrading organic matter as everyone else. She never fucked him because she didn't want to. She only hung out with him for like, 30 minutes a day 'cause she didn't wanna spend the money on gas. She was engaged to him, he was serious about marrying her, she says he was only there at a convenient time at a convenient place for her. Then, the day after she tells my best buddy all this, she talks to me on MSN. Frankly, I'm repulsed, I wouldn't touch her with a 20 foot pole, and I have no qualms with saying she's a disease and she deserves to die of Aid's. In fact, I'm breaking out the Wicca tonight and wishing cancer on her. She's got balls talking to me after that shit. She's a horrible person and she doesn't deserve the title of human being.

.....Anywho.

My Fiance lives on a farm. I haven't slept tonight because I can't. We haven't been seperated since we started dating, which was on her birthday, May 10th. (Funny huh? I went to a 4chan protest that day) So about two weeks and three days we've been inseperable, and she's coming to town to pick me up and I'm gonna chill at her farm for a few days in the afternoon sometime. Its early morning now. Her parents are big-time dealers, her dad has a ZZ top beard, walks around without a shirt on, and quotes passages from the bible verbatim while he's rolling me a joint. In other words he's everything I ever wanted to be. Maybe I'd quote the Lavine Satanist bible instead though. And his mom is just cool 'cause she's friendly and likes Fresca just like I do.

Now the last thing I have to think of before I finish this journal is: Why can't happiness pay the bills? It was a long hard road before I figured out my life. I mean, I still need to finish my school urgently and get a job, but for once, I'm happy, and yet, all my friends have the worst shit happening to them. Makes me wonder, is there some kind of law in this universe that states that if I'm happy for once, my friends lives all go to shit, and my spriting career too? I dunno, I just hope it works out in the end. One things worked out for me finally. I'm finally happy. I'm finally in love. I finally have a girl that all my friends agree is really cute and deserves to have me. All I need is an education, a Job, and I can start living my life without worry. I'll finally be done. I'll finally be "retired" from all this melodrama. That's what it is. I live a life of Melodrama. It's all like a cyberpunk narrative. What comes after the bad news? More bad news. Thats how I thought life was like. Now it seems like Utopia is possible. Or at least a non-dystopia. Kind of a shift in thinking towards the positive. I want out, I wanna quit the force, I wanna get outta the ghetto. I want a life with a wife and a dog and a white picket fence and a kid and a car and a riding lawnmower, like Denis Leary once said. I dunno. I can't think of anything else to write. I'm drained and done and I've bothered you quite enough with one of my long-ass journals. My last wish is that I could've broken this down into a bunch of little one-senteance daily journals to piss you all off.

Good day sir! =D
-Senretsu

Current Location: Home
Current Mood: bored
Current Music: K-os - Heaven Only Knows

Ahhh, What a good day. Tonight is going all right. I mean it went average but I'm feeling good. My guess is thats the extra dopamine speaking. It's a good feeling. I tried an anti-depressant this morning. I don't think anyone will argue with my decision to at least give them a try non? I can get pretty pissed off and unreasonable sometimes, I'm sure you've all witnessed that first hand.

Or that could be the weed speaking, I'm happily smoking weed in the house again after a very long ban from indoor smoking due to my sister and more importantly her boyfriend. However I'm pretty sure my sister at least partly agree's with my brother in quasi-law because she took Daves side in a big drunken conversation about it one day but she was less confrontational about it.

Either way I agreed, but not for them and not for me but for my Niece. Dice has become a competent Uncle since new bloods entered the family. It's weird tolerating even a single crying baby for once. Normally kids annoy the shit outta me.

But I digress, Do I have some story's for you guys.

About a week ago now a drunk asshole got punched out in my living room. That was some serious shit. That was the night Muze was supposed to be back in town. Pheonix invited me over and I expected a huge party to go down at 10:30 that night, as he said it would, because I blew off plans with Alanna that night to see my Droogies and only because Sinister & Pheonix were too impatient to let me spend a few hours chilling with her before I did. Pheonix actually ended up running off early because of a fight with Cheryl and me & Sinister & Blue sat about playing Halo 3 til' 12:15 in the morning whereby we all gave up and called it a night. Don't get me wrong, I had a blast with Halo whenever Xbox Live felt like working but I still could've done a thousand better things with my time than sit around for 6 hours waiting for someone who didn't show when my 'host' ran out on me. Turns out Jon showed up at about 1 in the morning or something and they drank at Robbie K's place that night in a random spur of the moment thing.

Intermission
Earlier today I left my bong in the freezer and now the water inside is frozen ice cold, this is gonna be a sweet bowl. B-)

So I left and when I got home all pissed off, I got about a half hour on the computer before I got kicked off. I didn't care anyway, I'd lost my brothers pimped-out PSP the DAY after I learned how to work a real e-book reader (Not a cheap knockoff like before) and had put a whole bunch of sweet books on it (Wicca, Programming, Japanese learning, Etc) and now Muze was being a dink and not getting in town not nearly soon enough. Although I later found out that wasn't on purpose. Then my sister & her boyfriend came home drunk and with an envoy of drunk puppies that tailed them home. There was one HB in the group that was getting her ear talked off by a loud vulgar dumbass who was talking shit about Dave behind his back, albeit I could hear it all the way down the hall. I was already letting the adrenaline flow and letting the emotions in that would help me if I needed to knock a fucking wino out again and drag his KO'd ass hair first out the door. That is until he walked over, introduced himself, apologized for busting in with a bad first impression like that, and hooked up my dad's VCR, Which he'd been having alot of trouble with right then, which I was laughing online about to my MSN buddy's. Apparently he got way more drunk fast because, Long boring story short, he got knocked the fuck out for being a cocky dumbass to Dave & My sister. I realized he was just way too drunk for his own good but when I walked back into the living room the damage was worse than I thought it'd be. He was laying on the floor with my leather computer chair and fan knocked over, he was sprawled out and he looked half awake in shock or a drunken daze muttering incoherantly with blood flowing from his knose down his face. And I mean it was bad, there were blood stains on my carpet which my dad leapt on with a mop in a pang of his obsessive compulsive cleaning disorder while my sister discussed hot headedly about getting the Cops involved, the two girls that had tagged along were asleep on the couch.

I wondered which ones were just pretending to be asleep. Earlier I talked to the cuter one alone outside while we were having a cigarette. She told me how he was creeping it real all day, being obvious about how he thought he was getting lucky tonight but was being a total moron. I told her someone has to be pretty lonely and sad to brag so hard, she agreed and had a cute smile that outshone her otherwise somewhat plainness, though I didn't put that blame on her as she was wearing the household idiots clothes after she had puked all over earlier from being too drunk. The thought of it made me chuckle because I knew I'd just have to bring that up visually anytime she would try make me dance like an organ monkey. The last unknown variable was whether she was already taken or not, though I now had an obstacle: Village Idiot, and whoever she was with became moot point to the competition of the game.

But it was all cut short once we had the problem of a guy knocked the fuck out on our floor bleeding and moaning that nobody really knew. We eventually got the cops involved and lied our asses out of the situation. He "fell".... And broke his nose on a carpeted floor. HAH.

Watching the paramedics work wasn't easy business though. He was rolled on his side supported by a pillow behind his back, a tube down his mouth connected to a generator sucking out whatever blood-spittle he coughed up, and whenever that wasn't on him he had an oxygen mask on. The officers pressed in hard on his pressure points and told him loud as day in the middle of night to wake up and state his name and whatnot. Whenever he did get up he rolled his eyes around mumbling something and trying to pry the oxygen mask off his face. Before all that popped off I felt bad that such a loser got beat at what was looking to be a cool party to him, I propped his head up on a pillow so the blood wouldn't run down his throat and put some aspirin in his jacket pocket for when he got up in the drunk tank. I was washing blood outta my bandana for the third time. Dave was being a drunken nuisance to the paramedics at work while I sat calmly back and answered any questions on the situation that the cops had, whether he had allergies, his name, etc.

When the cops were gone, that was the end of that, Alcohol was banned, cute girl was asleep again after waking up briefly before the cops showed and I went to sleep to clear my conscious, having a lengthy and good talk with my dad before, the kind two people only have after sharing a somewhat traumatic experience with one another. That was the first time I heard my dad admit to not really being there for me and I told him I forgave him but not my mom. He told me he feels bad about not being able to guide me and thats why I'm still allowed around the house, even when being a freeloader. It was good, It made me feel better enough to go to bed. It turned out later the reason the guy is so fucking obnoxiously loud is because he's hard of hearing and can't hear himself at a normal speaking level. He probably wasn't shitting either because when I would talk lower than him he usually misunderstood what I meant to say with my senteances, or just misunderstand which word I said period. I'll refer to him as deaf guy from now on. He's not actually deaf but it's better to just think of him as so.

I got locked out of my house the other day. I just got back from seeing Cloverfield (A kickass movie BTW, despite having zero Cthulhu) and the deaf guy was there again, I was happy to see him back, despite him being a bit of a dumbass, because I finally got to tell him that it wasn't me that was involved in any of that shit and I don't care he got punched out in my house for being too drunk. I was mainly happy to see he was good humoured enough to come back and NOT to press charges. We sat and drank and talked civilly for a change, I told deaf guy I liked his mean sense of humour but my sister & Dave didn't, and I left because magical Trevor (Pheonix) teleported to the other side of my door when I went to take a piss, as me, Dave and the deaf guy were getting drunk while watching Team America. Cloverfield was disorienting at first because it was reminding me at every turn and corner how totally cut I was by making everything through even the camera's eyes blurry and moving around too fast to coherantly comprehend. But by the time the movie ended I decided that dying fighting the Cloverfield monster would totally be a great reason to join the army. Of course when the bright streetlights outside the theatre hit me was when I first ever noticed I was ever not drunk during any part of the movie. I finally got to talk to Pheonix' Girlfriend Cheryl about Cthulhu. Cheryl doesn't seem stupid but she is some kinda Christian or another so I would find a talk about religion with her interesting. But I wouldn't wanna touch any rough edges either so I've never tryed to bring it up intentionally. It just came up when I called Cloverfields "Monster from the Sea" premise Lovecraftian.

Because of course, I worship Cthulhu to the creepy point that one could call it Religion.

WHAT IS A MAN?!

PERHAPS THE SAME COULD BE SAID OF ALL RELIGION
etc.

I believe I haven't introduced the newest PUA/Half Droogs in town, Blue & Sinister. When I first met sinister is when the huge gap in my 2007 entry's started, And I've only recently met Blue. I believe I've talked about what you can basically expect from Sinister before, his real names Pierre. Blue is actually Thomas. Sinister started out as one of our Droogs and apprentice PUA's, we knew he had alot of potential as he became a great guitar player in a short period of time, not to mention he knew something of the keyboard as well and could sing, all while being about our age. He started out great, And we let him know so, he was progressing along nice, and then he started getting a bit cocky, thinking he was past our level and could outgame us... Well: He's never really seen Pheonix in action, he's still on decent terms with Muze but Muze isn't on decent terms with him, and Sinister really learned what it means for a PUA to also be a wingman the night we attempted to game Cherisse at Jamie's place.

Yes, I shit you not, The first girl I won through the game many years ago (2 if I'm counting correctly) and she was back and older and getting hit on by another PUA, the 'apprentice' (Sinister wouldn't like me calling him that without the Apostrophe's) of the last one to break her heart (Or so I'm told) no less. The irony made me laugh Ad Nauseum. He demonstrated his awesome memorization of the Cube on Cherisse, though I, being somewhat drunk on Colt 45 topped it off with the last few lines I accidently stole from the CV routine. It didn't DLV Sinister though, as she kinda just gave a "Ehr, Ok?" response once it was over and I put on a faux "Moral of the story" kinda thing on the end. I also social proofed him as I hadn't hung out with Cherisse like this for years, but my improvement would be obvious over that length, she just doesn't trust me anymore, but I digress, Sinister played some guitar and I complimented him in front of her on his skill once he was done and made it sound Authentic.

After that, me & him have been decently tight, though he quit the droogs and the droogs have disowned him as well (We agree it's a shame that we felt we had to) as ever since he's gotten over-confident in his skill, he's overplayed my little town, and has effectively lost every friend he used to have as they all think he lost his marbles with his sudden and incongruent personality change since being introduced to all this. We feel responsible for releasing the horror of a terrible artist onto our small city's field, we only pray the Guru's can forgive us if we repent. Although I still sarge with both Blue & Sinister as a project of thier own, Project Atlantis. They learn boatloads from us everytime we bring them along to party's, but the thing is they're seriously DLV'ng us to the max everywhere we bring them. If you've read the Bible, then we're Style while Sinister & Blue are Ross Jeffry's sniffing Carmen Electra's butt to "Flirt". So we don't know how many more times we're gonna be able to give them in-field demonstrations before we ourselves become superlosers.

And I HAVE demonstrated my ability to them before. In fact I'll relate to you the case that proved to blue that Dice is the real deal. Basically, as I'm pressed to make time for sleep before a party later today (3:35 AM now, 6:30 PM = Party, I'm going to set an alarm on my E-Calendar) the long story short is as they were walking down the road to my place to pick me up to go drink and sarge with them that night, I was walking down the same road in thier direction with Alanna, after hanging out with her and her friends at Timmie's. It shocked them but I just laughed and felt good. It wasn't everyday like that, but it was good to show that it wasn't "no day like that" either. We walked around and I teased her while we talked, gave her an extended hug before she left, but ended up walking her all the way home anyway, and they ditched and let me isolate during the last block and I got my kiss close then. I walked around the corner and blessed them for at least having enough calibration to know when a PUA and his target need space, and Blue told me he thought I didn't have it in me, but stood corrected. I felt good. After losing my PSP and seeing a bleeding broken nose and blood puke on my carpet, things were looking up. Me & her are going somewhat steady now by the way. My little emo girl. Don't try and dig too deep into it all and don't try to "Hook us up" or anything, because everyone IS and I have to tell you we're doing fine by ourselves, and that I'm happy. You read that last part right, so leave it alone.

Anywho, I've been getting my progress towards getting a gasmask-bong stunted at every stop. A gasmask + Bong in one contraption is everything I stand for: Stoner Pride and Cyberpunk Pride. Not to mention it doesn't smoke that bad and makes a nifty looking piece. Landon borrowed 20$ as I payed for one nights drinking, where I negged the bartender but got a bad response even from that much (Gotta remember to use a stronger neg for a FUCKING HB10 BARTENDER) so I excused myself and went to another bar after my beer was done. She was just getting hit on by fat guys before I showed up so I expected her to appreciate an interesting guy like me. Perhaps I caught her on her ass? Because she did open up a bit more once Landon went to the bathroom. I really don't have calibration to that high on the decibel scale though, and I blew my chance, but it's just another rung in the game ladder to me, there was no harm done anyhow, far as she's concerned I'm drunk, As I did wonder off almost immediately after I'd given it a whirl. Dave owes me 20$ and my sister owes me 55$, I'm pawning my guitar for 50$ and Kurtis is buying my Amp off me for another 50$, while Jordan Pots or someone like that owes me another 10$ for paying off Dave for 10$ of beer we sharked from him that night. Altogether, after all expenses have been taken care of, I'm 230$ rich in other peoples debt. That's 90$ for the gasmask, 50$ in a sack to break it in with, 20$ for a new phonecard to reactivate my dead cell phone with, and 70$ leftover to cover sarging with for a week or two. I've got it all written down in this free little calendar-PDA-organizer-thing I got called Rainlendar. It's been a major help, I don't see why I didn't get an organizer sooner, though I've always believed I should've got one sometime. It took me about a couple minutes to set up an alarm for every workout session I will ever have in the future. It's great. And in fact I'm using it right now to organize this journal entry to cover everything thats happened to me in the past couple days. It's been quite interesting.

One flaw of Sinisters that I really cannot overlook is his constant spreading of the secretes behind what "The Game" is with everyone he see's. He spreads it like rice at a wedding. He's told Kurtis, been beaten up for it by Kurtis, told Beau, been hated for it by Beau, Told Teddi & Jamie, Who have stopped hanging out with him because he has no off switch, he introduced Thom, Just because Thom "Showed Promise" (AKA for no reason)

Yeah, Basically he's told everyone we or he knows. And we've also been told by practically everyone we know to stop hanging out with them. Also, the night I kiss closed Alanna she called his bullshit when he was trying to run a line on her. I found that funny as hell. He needs to lay off the lines, and I'm not talking about Cocaine. He also needs to learn the rules are very different if you go from a big city to a small town Hamlet. I know that much. That's why I'm discreet as hell about it, In fact many are surprised when I first inform them I've been a player for two years of hard practice now, and in fact introduced Pheonix to the society, as well as 'trained' Sinister and gave Blue what may have been his first good demonstration. I don't trust Sinister is teaching Blue White Magic, you know?

Wow, a chunk of ice in bongwater works wonders, I just one-shotted that bowl. I need to get me an Icecube tray.

Either way, Blue considers Muze Guru material, as the four of us all had a serious drunken discussion once but ended up splitting into two groups. Both Me & Muze did them alot of good we decided. Sinister thanks me for that talk and Blue, as I said before considers Muze guru material. I think we need to get these guys in a real workshop. They're just broken beyond our ability to repair, not to mention Blue is right on the age dot to be eligible for a Toronto MM bootcamp. I think that would do him wonders, I also think he's a lucky bastard, it's a shame he probably can't afford one. I'm gonna start saving for my trip ASAP.

Back.
Just had to add "Learn Japanese" to my Rainlenders to do list. I put my notes in the pop up box. That was a good review as well because I didn't write down any of it in english. =)

I've been doing good with my Perfect World character as well. Became the Captain of a minor guild and got to level 18 so far.

Now just two last notes before I get to sleep and write off "Update Journal" as a completed task. The first is I just got rid of a minor lice infection this morning. I have no fucking clue where I got it but I'd like to think we caught it soon enough. I might put a different cover on my pillow tonight though. Just like to let anyone know that I took care of that but if your head starts itching, try and think of how the hell you got it, 'cause I keep my hair fairly clean at most times and I have no fucking clue where the fuckers came from.

AND, I found a sweet Trenchcoat/Duster in my closet. That makes me happy. It's very oldschool though, which makes me like it even more. Woulda liked Black, but this looks less Gestappo and more trench-warfare. It's gonna look good beside my gasmask. I don't even care what anyone thinks, I. Fucking. Love. Trenchcoats. No I'm not going Trenchcoat mafia on your ass. But yes I am going to enjoy wearing it on my trips out into the bushes with my BB rifle and possibly my gasmask on, if I deem it not-losery enough, seeing as no ones gonna see me out there but the dead gophers anyway. I'll admit I have a somewhat love of the Columbine story, not all the death or the gunman, though I feel sympathy as I believe they were victims as well, but just the pure raw human drama of it all. "Oh the humanity!". So yes, I'm making a Columbine School Massacre RPG remake bishes. Just because I find humour in the offense people get from such a low-brow no-budget indie RM2K creations, that the thought of creating the ultra deluxe RMXP remake completely piqued my curiousity. So far for the original graphics art I've completed Eric Harris in his trenchcoat and my personal sprite for my obligatory cameo appearance in the hell level. Hey, I never said this game was in best taste. I just said I'm making it. I'm also throwing together remade tilesets gradually, I've effectively recreated one maps layout but not the scripting for it's events, and I'm still deciding on the...
I almost said "Films"
I'm still deciding on the games soundtrack. That still feels all big and importanty. Either way the graphics are gonna take a long fucking time but I'm going to get it all done eventually, and it's gonna be so beautiful people are gonna praise me for taking my time with it. What I've done doesn't seem impressive but comparitively its going freaking amazing. Also: Think of it this way, As long as planning a VIDEOGAME rather than a massacre remains the top priority in my life, none of you have to get so worked up about anything unless you choose to be a sandy cunt, and if so, go fuck yourselves. I'm taking a stand on the original authors side on this one. Free speech and whatnot, creative expression, Victims don't own the public opinion on the event, etc.

Well, I guess that was three things before I log out. I've gotta study my material before I go out and party later today, So I'm gonna get right to that. Funny how bringing up a trenchcoat also brings a rant on Columbine from me. I think that spoke more about me than Columbine really. Ahahahaha. Don't worry about me though people, I assure you I'm quite sane and got lots to live for, Like my new girl Alanna, It's that bubbly kind of puppy love that you can't help but enjoy without worrying about anything else.
"In fact, I'm smiling already." -Johnny C.
I like to think the "C" stands for my name. (The real one) =D
-Dice

PS:
I know now what I should've done with the bartender - Payed attention to Hired Gun rules, not those of an average set.

PPS:
After a re-read of my last entry, I can now wrap up what a bar is with the line "Bars are where you go to be indifferent". I also finally interpreted that dream: I was dreaming of what my first trip to Amsterdam will be like, and I'm afraid of getting stuck in a different country again, Like with the NWT! Haha!

Current Mood: optimistic
Current Music: David Allan Coe - You piss me off, You fucking jerk

Man what an interesting day today's been.

Let's start with my morning. I have a hole in one of my windows so, Being winter in Canada, It's always cold as shit in my room, I always wake up with my toes feeling like Ice, albeit I have two blankets on my bed. So I threw on a third one yesterday before I passed out and suddenly I slept like a Child, I even dreamt yesterday. The details slipped my mind but I managed to mentally jot down the basics of what happened: It had Jamie & Teddi in it early on having fun together, I think that's just from last time I seen the two hang out, they have alot more fun together than apart, It's kinda cute. And then for some reason I left to go to the bowling alley, which was a major hangout for me when I was a kid, I remember seeing a bunch of smokey pillars off in the distance in the sky while I was walking, I think that was from my first shroom trip when we went to the top of the apartment and looked out and I could see the thick smoke coming outta the Co-Op factory-thing. That just absolutely amazed me when I was on shrooms, I never saw it like that before, Normally it's like "Oh wow Smoke, Good thing I'm not breathing it" but when you're on shrooms it's the same as looking at a really amazing drawing of smoke. I knew it was real which made it was all the more amazing. It was like God was an artist and this was his masterpiece, like he painstakingly animated every curl and whisp of that pollution, frame by frame. And then once I was inside the bowling Alley I remember it felt like a Bar, I mean it is a bar partly but that was the first time it really felt like a bar. When you're in a bar you suddenly feel self-conscious, at least I do. Bartenders can smell fear. So you make sure you act extra cool when you're there, and at the same time so does everyone else, but you make extra sure not to draw too much attention to yourself. Don't hog the spotlight: It's a bar, no one wants to be in the spotlight, except the drunk chicks on the dance floor, but you have good reason to be watching them. And then I met up with a group of 3 or 4 girls and they were hitting on me while I sat about having fun. The details of how they looked escapes my mind, but the general concept of them was probably taken from Darcy & Miranda, these two sisters I knew up North. Me & Darcy hit it off but her bitchass mom lied to us and said we were related, when in reality (And I only figured this out lately) the relation is thin enough to be a nonexistant problem. As for Miranda, My mom is always saying thats the only girl in the North good enough for me, which makes me feel weird 'cause I never even liked her anyhow. She was alot like Alayna. She had that Aura about her that made you think that she thought she was better than everyone else. I hate to assume that about people but even the feeling was enough to repel me. I remember the whole bar scene was hazy as hell, But I passed this off in the dream that I was drunk. I remember smoking a joint non-chalantly right there at the table where we sat, I remember some big seedy bald guy sitting across from me passing it, rolling it into my hand and I kept it low to the table, took a strong hit or two and passed it to my right (I was sitting on the left) because I figured if we're gonna get caught (And we were sketching about the bartender figuring it out, I wondered how the smell couldn't give it away, but things seemed normal so I played along) that I should at least walk into the station baked. Then my watch or timer or something went off and I decided I'd call a cabby as an excuse to leave and have a cigarette outside for me and the girls. The last thing I remember was the car speeding off without me and me holding my hand out with something that belong to them at the car as it left. Then I woke up because my mouth was dry and nasty so I got a drink, Coulda' went back to dreamland too, I was still half awake, but I decided since it was already 6 I could either ditch having fun in real life by staying in dreamland, or wake up and get my day started. So I threw on my pants and logged onto mah PC.

End Dream Sequence, Start morning.
Yesterday I finally figured out how to get PDF's onto my PSP, And I spent most of the latter half of that day putting on my books on programming and Japanese, and finally fell asleep after reviewing lesson 4 of 8. I had completely forgotten how to say "Over there" "Here" and "Where". Though I had the best recollection of how to say "Where" out of the three words, due to my memorization of the phrase "Where can I find some pot?"

Hoppa Wa Doori Doko Desu Ka?

I also didn't know until yesterday it was "Doori" and not "Dodi". He uses such a hard tongue-flappy R on the tapes. At least you can tell I'm paying more attention to the pronunciation than the spelling. And I can remember "Over there" best as it's close to the way I used to pronounce "Sasuke". You're not supposed to pronounce the U, as any Narutard can tell you. "Asoko" I'm pretty sure it's spelt.
Asoko Desu Ka?
Is it over there?

Dave just called my Dad "Dad". Not "Your Dad" but "Dad". Thats mighty weird to me I gotta tell you, Considering I first met this guy reclined in the basement of my Dealers house when I was first becoming a stoner, I brought my sister along and we were sitting in the 'Waiting Room' AKA the living room and he gave me a beer while we lounged about, waiting for J to wake the frag up so he could serve me some product. He was effectively J's right hand man, if not as good a dealer as J himself, and I remember him asking me "So why aren't you two making out or nothing?" about me and my sister. I figure now that he thought since I brought her I was dating her. "No man that's my sister, I'm related to her!" I laughed. And I remember he made some quick comment before it got a bit eerie quiet. I thought I did wrong by killing his joke, Now I believe, somewhere deep in his mind, a little voice rang out loud and clear "Checkmate!". Disarm the obstacles. It's one of the major rules: "If you can't beat 'em join 'em." and getting on an Obstacles badside is a bad, bad idea. I really did appreciate that beer too. I can't say I don't like being drunk, I really can't. It's fucking awesome. Once I get drunk I stop doubting myself and start having fun. And I really don't get to drink much too often. I only drink hard liquor so I can up my tolerance though, most times I get too drunk and end up breaking down, Thats the worst, I have good self control when I'm sober, When I'm drunk it's shot to shittles.

I still remember the first time we got tanked together. Thats when I really got a good scope of his drinking problem: The second he poured me a drink, It was the kind of amount that you do shots with, And I usually mixed half of that and he wanted me to drink it straight. Instead I got a little bit of chase, and we drank and we talked about some of our crazy wonktown experiences. I told him about the time the Death Metal Kids beat me up. He told me about this time he had a gun and almost killed a guy with it, but decided not to. And I broke down over... something or another, as expected of me. That was one of the last times we went drinking together, 'cause he got the picture that I couldn't keep up with him. (Like I warned him so)

Man I could really use a cigarette about now. Haven't had one all morning. It's just killing me. If dad wants to be a smoker, I'm gonna be a smoker. Motherfucker shouldn't think I'm gonna quit anytime soon if he's not. During his last attempt I even went 2 days cold fucking turkey without one. I was doing amazing! After 3 or 4 days of Zero Nicotine you've made it past the peak of withdrawal symptoms. Just one more day man, And he was the first one to cave. Once I saw that pack sitting in the kitchen the thought of it grew and grew and grew in my mind for hours and BAM, Here I am, Your humble ol' Author Mr Dicey Mcgreyhat, still addicted to smoking. Can I blame it on my dad? Yes. Yes I can. I can also blame it on my last principal. She was a fucking bitch. If I had a kill list, she'd be on it. But I learned long ago it's hard keeping a list of everyone you hate and why. I tryed before but after awhile I learned to forgive everyone on the list. They all had thier goods and bads. But they all had things in common too. You can not be a dick just because you're generous. Everyone needs to know that.

I nearly busted my hand over my moms latest wino boyfriend. He drank our mouthwash, tryed shaving with my brothers Gillette Mach 5 and tryed walking out of the house with my dads Leather Jacket on. All in the same day. I've made sure since to remember what label every Leather Jacket in this house carry's. Those motherfuckers had done this before as well, He was getting bolder everyday, testing the waters like a child. They came over here, helped themselves to our food, overstayed thier welcome and generally used us like a pit stop on thier drunken Journeys. Like we're here to feed those fucking jobless hobo's or something. And everytime I'd hear "Oh Clark I thought about you everyday I was gone Blablabla". If she cared about me so much, she wouldn't leave for a week or more every single motherfucking time she comes back here. She's leaving me... No, Not just me, Her whole family for a pillpopping drunk jobless native man that hit her before and will likely do it again, and takes her money, manipulates her children and try's stealing from her ex-husband. Makes sense to you? Yeah seems pretty fucked up to me too. Either way, I told myself after the Terry ordeal was over "Never again." over and over in my head. Never again, never again, never again. And I mean it. Never again. A second Terry came along and I kicked his fucking ass, And I would do it again if he tryed to test my cool. The first time through this shitcoaster I was too weak to do anything. This time I'm 6'2 and 180 pounds of zero fat with a mean streak a mile wide. And my mom said never again too. But we all know she's braindead so she already forgot and so she crawls back to him everytime, Just like Terry. Does she think he'll change? I don't think my Mom's learned a damn thing since she was 17. The only thing she's good at is being a mom, And that comes with instinct. How fucking hard is it to take care of a kid? Even I know how to make my niece smile. If she thinks taking care of kids is a good way to carry her own weight in this world, She needs to fucking think again. After I'd scared off those natives, I got a fair bit of praise from Dave which made me feel good. And my Mom gave me one of those moments I work for: A sincere thank you. She's never sincere, Her words are worthless to me since I learned she was a black hearted manipulating liar when I was 9 years old. She said "Thank you, it made me feel like someone cares." Which I just laughed at a bit in my head. She's so Jaded. Why would anyone want to care about a Wino who does nothing but sit around and get drunk and date womanbeaters? Reality is glazed over and sugarcoated by her mind before consumption. She's lost in her own world and it's a waste of time trying to bring her back here, to a little place I call home: Reality.

I didn't do it for her. I did it for myself, And for my family's honour. Alot of people won't understand that. But when your mom is legally insane and your dad has no backbone it leaves you with alot to be desired. One of those things I desired was a sense of control and a sense of having respect. Not a fearful respect, but a "I recognize you as a man and another worthy human being" respect. My family never gets that because my mom is a willing doormat and it rubs off badly on the rest of us. I had one big drunk native push my whole family around before, talk shit about my dad, steal my stuff, eat our food, I never felt so helpless, and then a second man came along and thought he could call my dad a bitch and act unafraid of the cops and tell me what he can or can't do in my dad's house. So I punched him as hard as I could in the head and kicked his ass (Literally!) with my boot as he recoiled away like the motherfucking snake he is. That one was for me. That one was for my family who put up with this shit long enough, and my dad has no spine so I'll stand strong where he is absent.

.... So anyway, I've decided my mom isn't ever gonna change. Not now or ever. I can't count with two hands how many times she's gone to jail or swam through rehab to get to Brandy Island. And I know she's gonna do it many more times before she's done. And I accept that. But honestly? I wish she was still back in the North. How my mom changed used to make me sad. Now I just shake my head, she went off the deep end a long time ago, No use even trying now. One other thing she's good at? Lying. Making false promises. Every time I see her she acts as if things are gonna get better somehow. I think "Great Job Mom, You've taken that first step in recovery, Coming back to your REAL home and your REAL family, and we're gonna fix you up good and help you become human and a good mom again" and then I'll be taking a shit and she'll scoot out the door once she's full of MY DAD'S food and well rested from sleeping on MY DAD'S couch, and everything she said will instantly be Moot and I'll remember the seven other times she used those exact words and did the exact same thing.

Once I get that money, She's not my mom anymore. I refuse to consider that braindead drunken woman my mother anymore. I'll emancipate myself if necessary. Or maybe theres a process where I can legally disown a parent. I hate how she can call herself my mother. She never acted like my parent, how can she possibly be my mother? Protip: She's not. I hate calling her "Mom" as well. Why do I have to listen to HER requests? She's NEVER listened to my advice, And lord knows I've been patient. It's true I used to call her Anne when I was a child, the only real time she deserved my attention or co-operation, but to me that was as good a nickname as "Mom". It was an endearing term if you will. It almost felt wrong when she asked me to start calling her Mom. Whelp, won't matter soon enough anyway, It's gonna stop once she's disowned. Paris Hilton got away with alot before she was taken outta the will, I think it's time my mom learnt that there are repercussions to being a jobless drunk at will. It's not like she's incapable of ordinary life, She had one with us before all this, one that we've offered to her time and again, and she obviously doesn't want that, but somehow she thinks she can get away with leading a hedonistic life and keep her kids love at the same time. She told me she drinks because she has problems. Yeah right. If that were true, why was she drinking BEFORE all this happened? Those are some pretty small fucking problems she must've been complaining about. It was her fucking drunkenness that got killed her brother and it's gonna be her fucking drunkenness that takes her from her son. And to make sure it happens, as a promise to both myself and her, I'm allowing her to read everything I've wrote thus far about her, or her god damn boyfriend once I have my HMD. That's the last thing I ask of you as a Mom, Anne, My fucking Head Mounted Display. I want it so damn bad and I've waited so long. At times I don't think I'll ever have it. But I have faith. And once it's mine I'm gonna make you make a decision. Me or your booze. That's the kit and keboodle of it. The Judge told you Jail or your booze, now its your son or the booze. Let's see how hopeless you really are. I hope you can prove me wrong Mom. I don't want to see you or have you in my dads house ever again unless you make some changes. I can't let you be like this anymore, not for you, but for myself. I hate to even associate myself with you. I've only been here 17 years but I've accomplished much. It's like Bheetoven being born to a prostitute. I won't stand for it anymore.

...Now, back to my day. After I put some books on my PSP I planned to finally get back to playing Perfect World. (My new favorite MMO) I would grind and read, Combine pleasure and learning (Something I once thought impossible) and so hopefully I could learn to program quicker while still enjoying myself. Being able to write down a few programming languages on my Resume would really prove helpful so I've decided I'm going to learn C++ and Ruby to fill that slot, Possibly Java as everybody says its the way to go for professional programming. (Although IMO Java is shit for everything but Runescape, and don't you dare insult Runescape, I double dare you to program a better graphical web browser MMO)

But that got quickly sidetracked as Jon managed to inspire me to write a new Senretsu Gaiden. He's good at that, He's inspired many issues, hence why I consider him my writer. He has good idea's. After that, I started playing around with Project 7 characters in my head again, and ended up making a new teaser-issue, which is quite awesome I must say. Two issues in one day, Two birds with one stone. I'm actually ahead on my work now (I already updated SG today) so I'm taking some time to chillax and write a Journal... if that can be considered Chillaxing. Maybe I'm a workaholic. I dunno. I blame my mom again. She pounded the idea of everything I don't want to be into my head just by being her. Thanks Mom!

And then I had a looong discussion with Jamie about Pierre and the Game. That has to be one of the most involving discussions I've ever had with her. I used to think of her as somewhat bubbleheaded and shallow but I guess one just needs time to see the human side of her, she's actually really interested in other people, perhaps moreso than herself. I had something else to add but it's been forgotten in my stream-of-consciousness. Either way I love talking to Jamie about the game, She's a willing student. I don't see how Pierre plans to learn anything when he won't open his fucking ears. (As Kim Jong Il put it) One is supposed to know the fundamentals and basic truths behind the game before they take up making thier own method. Methods are all just different paths to the same goal, But Pierre doesn't know that goal nor how one goes about attaining it. He skipped step one to get to step 3, he's attempting to run before he can crawl. Don't get me wrong, I STILL see alot of potential in Pierre, I don't even have the cube memorized, but he does, and that's a pro fucking technique. The problem? He was doing great for a week, He got cocky and now he thinks he's invincible, and thats 'causing him alot of errors that are making us all look bad in his trial-and-error ways. I said it before, and I find it relevant today: Young Pierre Parker has superpowers, but he is not yet Spiderman.

And Alanna tryed An-Hero'ng again today. She's been legally dead a few times apparently so I knew it was just a cry for attention, so I gave it to her. I really do like her, it just made me "AAAGH" when she did that. I told her it was silly and she knows I love her and such. And before she logged off an hour ago or so maybe check what she said

*shattered~~ says:
oh lol
*shattered~~ says:
and it wasnt ThAt question i am wondering.
Senretsu: Believe what you need to believe to Justify your actions says:
Maybe it didn't send, I thought that was the question =(
*shattered~~ says:
lol
*shattered~~ says:
my question was:

And then she logged off. Good sign? I think so. =D

And don't bag on me for liking Alanna. Whats so bad about her? OH yeah, She's suicidal, so what? Aren't I suicidal? I'd like to think not anymore, but no one fucking forgot the once or twice I tried. If you can't leave it embrace it. And she was there to comfort me the second time, and I was there for her today. Alone we yield to fierce winds but mayhap together we stand strong. This is one of the few times I have a genuine like for someone that's reciprocated, I'm gonna follow my emotions, and if you don't like that you can go fuck yourself.

And then after that? I went to write myself a journal, and jesus buttfucking christ this has been a long update. So I'm gonna end it now. Don't really have anything new to report anyway since I began writing. So this is Dice, Logging off, hope you've enjoyed today's indulgence into my being. =)
-Senretsu

Current Music: George Rafferty - Baker Street

April 20th, 2007

Second bunk 4/20 in a row, and probably my second week in a row without hoots. Not a single damn person even tryed calling, and I've been excited about this day since April Fools. Such grand plans we had... The entire "Shanes Place" crew, And Coopten crew, all together again and getting smoked retarded and drunk. April 20th finally rolls by and heres how it went: Got to work at 11 tired and lacking sleep, got held there 2 hours past my expected shift, which was supposed to end at 4, where I would go to Osaka park and meet up with Trevor and all the rest. Got home, Texted Trevor, Messaged Jamie & Dez to let them know I'm home... 8 PM and still no phonecall. My dad wanted burgers for supper, I'd been flipping burgers since morning and burgers were the last thing I wanted right then. So he wanted Pizza instead, I was Ok with that, so long as it was from Pizza Hut, but my Dad wanted it from Boston or Chicago, and IMO the pizza there is lacking in toppings and tastes more like grease and Tomato's. I was tired from walking back and forth to Mcdicks and standing up for 7 hours straight and got frustrated with the "Whats For Supper" guessing game so eventually I just said "Fuck this" and went to my room to rest until my dad made up his mind and got back with food.

My eyes got heavier and heavier waiting for either a phone call or ph00d though, and I passed out and woke up at 10. I checked the fridge and found "Nothing" for supper. All day I'd been drinking water like an Ethiopian fighting hunger pains. And it was great to see that not only my friends had forgotten me, ("Family" my ass.) but my Dad as well.

Last Friday Dez fell asleep in the arms of another guy after inviting me over, (Way to make me feel used and abused Dez, If theres nothing between us, just say so so I can stop wasting time on you like a fucking lapdog.) fuck. Call me one of your favorite boys and then go around and bite me in the ass like that. Very Nice. She doesn't fuck alot of guys, but when I kissed her... I have to wonder how many guys I was swapping spit with. I mean, that Friday she kissed that guy, and Andy too. I wonder why she didn't just invite the whole bar along for a fucking orgy while she was at it, she should just get it over with.

I said to myself that my "I hate women" Rant would be the first and last time I ever ranted a few page-fulls of hate over some stupid girl probelms, But I stand corrected.

Dezere; Trevor & Everett were right about you since day one, All you are and ever will be is a drama-queen Cock-Tease. I hate having a crush on you... It's painful.

Alina; Your a fucking freak and a drama-matriarch and the only reason I dated you was because I was flattered over being asked out. Yiff in hell, Furfag.

Kortnee; Your cute and I like you, But I don't know what you want. And it's not just me that thinks it wouldn't last, but don't hate me for trying.

Alayna: I think your hot too, And I would date you if you lived closer, Long distance relationships take work. I forgive you for picking on me in 6th grade, we were just two regular people in the Canadian Ghetto pushed over the edge.

Shar; I'm confused whether what we have is real or pretend. I could fall in love with your personality alone if I could learn to seperate your manipulative lies from the truth.

Well Journal, I have no smokes, I have no hoots, I have no girl to make it all better, I'm officially depressed. Let's just hope from here, I don't turn Suicidal/Homicidal. Virginia Tech was enough Carnage for one month. Take note, everyone, that this is just my 4/20 entry. Today was eventful enough, (Or uneventful enough?) for me to need somewhere to speak. There are other event's I haven't discussed yet that have happened, I'll get to those when I have time. For now: Sleep. I gotta return to the McSweatshop tomorrow morning at 11, It's 1 in the morning now. The paycheck better be worth it.
-Dice

Current Location: Home
Current Mood: crushed
Current Music: Guns N' Roses - Mr Brownstone

Daily Horoscope for Leo
You are in a creative phase where your accomplishments can increase your self-esteem, even if today is a day of reconnecting with family. Taking time for relaxation now is good for your soul. The real work, though, is happening on the innerside, where you can continue to make progress by seeking practical solutions to problems that continue to plague you.
Sunday, April 8, 2007

Again my Horoscope is correct. Sometimes every other day or so I even Avoid reading it (I got my horoscope on my Google homepage.) because, having someone else already described my day and life concisely, Writing a new entry suddenly feels alot like re-inventing the wheel.

(Totally Unrelated: Figured out my typing speed is approx. 88 WPM)

Anyway, Creative phase. Yesh. The entirety of yesterday (Saturday) was dedicated to inking + coloring some fanart I recieved from Kahou. I kinda like his art. It's got proper proportions and details where it counts. So tracing/coloring his stuff taught me a few things. He also draws alot of concept art for Project 7, so chances are I like it for that reason. XP

http://www.sheezyart.com/view/1154932/
Hyar's teh art I did. The outline doesn't look right 'cause Photoshop 7 sucks shit. But I love it anyways, mainly 'cause I love that Gangbanger shit, I love Nexus War, I love my Senretsuverse and I love fanart.

...Seriously that was hard shit to do. I must've worked hours and hours on that with my tablet. But I felt the need to get something done on my Easter Break and thar she blows. Something about me is just continously productive, like, work-a-holic. The need to expand ever forward with my art, my music, my personality. I think I got it hardwired into my system from all that inner-game PUA practice. Maybe. Although it feels more like that's just me. Oh well, At least being work-a-holic is better than utter Complacency, which is another pandemic affecting alot of people I know.

But today's horoscope was also right about my self-esteem. It's not that I feel sad, Just a little less sure of myself and whatever the hell it is I'm doing that defines me. I've also been having nightmares these past few nights. One was about 50cent (Lmao) for some fucked up reason. I can't recall what was exactly nightmarish about it but I do know now 50cent freaks me out a bit 'cause of it. And then tonight I had another dream about stabbing people, isn't that fucking demented? Especially those words "ANOTHER Dream". I don't know why I dream about stabbing people... The dream usually begins with someone I hate. Like one stab-dream I had about Lisa the Orc-Bitch Beast of the Swamp.

Jesus Christ was that 'girl' miserable. Her and her friend, I forget her name. I didn't really know either of them but they sat near me and were total bitches. The blonde one was just bitchy when you talked to her, the Orc-Bitch-Beast of the Swamp (That fat-ass ugly one called Lisa) lived for your torment. She pissed me off so bad I wanted to kill her, I really did. I swore at her, threatened her and when reason didn't work I picked up the chair I was sitting on and swung it at her, stopping an inch before her face. I meant to hit her, knock her ass out and leave her in a bloody pool of her own making on the floor, but my voice of reason stopped me.

I thought "Wait wait wait, This is like, your millionth school fight. Seriously, People here only know you 'cause you beat the shit out of everyone. And every single time the Teachers get all scared and shit like they had no part in it and never knew you were suffering and then you get injustly punished again. Don't you hate the principal with every fibre of your being?? Those fucking teachers gotta make your fight thier fight, every single motherfucking time. What's the use in beating up ANOTHER person, A girl no less. That wouldn't be any good at all for your already shit reputation."

Also, Her reaction was really fucking satisfying as well. I can't even put it in text. If you've ever seen someone who's guts you hate recoil in fear and shocked horror from you like the little bitches they are, you'll know what I'm talking about.

They were also about as ugly as I was (Back in highschool I was ugly I mean. I didn't wash or cut my hair, it curled upwards and my fashion sense was lacking.) and I guess they were just regular people pushed to the limits of thier patience like I was. I mean, I was a bastard in school too. The highschool is just one big chain reaction of hate. The teachers even begin the curriculum with hate. They scare you, they treat you like shit and all that so you'll "get ready for whats coming" in highschool. (The Principal told me this after a fight with my super-bitch Art Teacher. Accept it as truth) Which pissed me off as well. One of the reasons I can laugh when Private Pyle goes fucking crazy and blows a hole through Gunnery Sergeant Hartman was because I knew exactly what he was raving about.

A fun fact? Full Metal Jacket's depiction of a Bootcamp Instructor by an actual former bootcamp instructor 'caused major reforms in what Instructors were and weren't allowed to do. Thanks to efforts of Stanley Kubrick, The Military could no longer make fun of you based on your hometown, Your race, your Surname and a gazillion other things. What fiercely disappointed me was that the School still employed Sergeant Hartman's.

Now... That nightmare about Stabbing, cutting and Maiming Lisa was probably one of the coolest nightmares that happened to me. Lmao... My true opinion never fails to disturb me. But it was a good thing, because while I layed in my bed tossing and turning I blissfully shred that bitch to pieces in another world that would never exist. I woke up feeling a little bit better, people asked if the rumours were true that I was out to kill Lisa (I told m0rf about my plans to Napalm her house, like the little faggot he is he ratted on me) I told them that wasn't true, and even though the chair thing happened the day before, a fun little nightmare and a little thought made it all better. And like that I held no real animosity towards her as a person, Just how she treated me. And that, my niggers, Is the art of Aikido.

Now... My nightmares of stabbing people. They usually start with someone I hate. Like Lisa. Lisa is the only one I can recall clearly, The rest are faceless or hybrids of people that have wronged me. Like my nightmare of stabbing the Jesus Stabbers, Lmao, Isn't that bit Ironic? It starts with someone who hates me, who goes on to recruit a bunch of people to hate me, like my grade 5 fight with Logan where one off-record comment of mine spurred into my whole desk row making fun of me simultaneously while I was just trying to prove a point. I beat the shit out of logan and asked if anyone else wanted some, everyone just sat in thier desks and stared, I was satisfied with that but still scarred by everything they said, so I went and broke down in the corner.

So it begins with the catalyst (usually someone I hate) of a series of unfortunate events (fuck you Lemony Snicket) which eventually end with me running away from a group of people who hate me and I hate back, who I keep stabbing again and again. They recoil, they show pain, I feel a little better, I run and like they were never harmed they keep following me.

And it happens in that same sequence everytime I get one. It must've happened 3-5 times already now.

*Sigh* You know, despite my cheery disposition and shit, and the fact I never say I got "WORSE PROBLAMS THAN ANYONE ELSE!1" it's times like these were I think about things like the fact I get recurring nightmares of getting tormented that ends in stabbing people over and over that I realize I do. x__x;

Which is also why I brag about being strong sometimes... Those stabby dreams are usually the hyper-realistic ones. I can feel my fingers wrapped around the handle, serrated steel penetrating skin and tearing away... Makes me think that if I ever really did get pissed off to the point of fighting, there's no limit to the horrific Chaos I could wreak.

I mentioned before being scared of myself when I think like that right? Yeah, Just checking.

"Taking time for relaxation now is good for your soul. The real work, though, is happening on the innerside, where you can continue to make progress by seeking practical solutions to problems that continue to plague you."

I feel better already, Thanks Horoscope, Thanks Livejournal.

"You are in a creative phase where your accomplishments can increase your self-esteem, even if today is a day of reconnecting with family."
That goes with my constant effort to improve. Yesterday I had no modules to work on, and I'm already behind. It fucking annoys me that people bother me about being behind in school when at times I don't even have the work here that I'm supposed to be doing.

Like I got a call from that Principal that got me started smoking the other day. I hardly even recognized her voice, I didn't think anything that venomous could possibly have such a pleasant tone of voice. She told me she was thinking of sticking me in another stupid-people's class but asked me first if I wanted to even continue with school, because it was a "Scary Thing" for her to do. I told her I did and she agreed but said to get my dad to talk to her about it first.

A scary thing, Sticking me back in a school she's associated with. Isn't it funny how she'll give me her fear, but not her respect?

So anyways, I kissed Dez three times now. n___n
It was so, so damn great to finally know that she didn't think of me as just another one of her guy-friends/tools in the shed. Because it's simple fact that women manipulate, my problem is seperating the ones that do from the ones that don't. Trevor told me she still doesn't wanna go out with me 'cause of the age difference, and only the age difference, But I don't know how trustworthy that info is. I'm skeptical by nature. And Dez told me she got drunk one night and told Trevor she thought she might like him, and felt a bit stupid about it before, and I never heard of this from Trevor, which makes me also wonder how much he's telling me. But then again I've been wondering that from the start, I just don't focus on things like that that can do damage to a friendship unless I got reason for thinking it's true.

And let's see... what else has happened for me?
Well, My brother came back down yesterday, or maybe the day before. So it's been alot harder for me to do my drugs and live my social life around here, but I have missed him to an extent. He really talks too much sometimes (He puked earlier today, I came out here while he was sleeping an hour after said act and he talked to me for about another hour after that while I was trying to get my morning PC routines done and talk to Porg's sister) but I like being able to read his PSM's (I hate not knowing what's going on in the gaming world. Not having the next-gen system the day of launch is like breaking a tradition that me & future have had since we bought the SNES. So it's even worse) and we can talk about Conspiracy Theory's, How pot should be legalized, (He doesn't smoke, he's just a vegan hippy conspiracy theorist. Lol) our girl troubles, (Lots of girls like him. I find it a fucking shame he doesn't know how to flirt back to them) and my Spritecomic stuff sometimes too.

I met my sister's boyfriend, Dave, and we've kinda bonded since. He's pretty much family now anyway, because my sister's got his kid on the way that she's keeping. Which is also kinda cool. I've got Jeramy's friend and ex-co-dealer as my extended family now. I don't know the first fucking thing about being an Uncle but I know I'm gonna be nothing like Bruce. I'll teach tha' lil' fucker to get girls like a pro while he's still in gradeschool, Lol. Or if I'm talking about a She I guess I could... Uh... Hmn. CRISIS! Lol.

It's also strange to think that this is the year that the next Generation of ____ (my surname) begins. I'm 16, I don't feel that old yet! Neh... Robert was an Uncle when he was like, 10 years old, So I guess it's not that out of the ordinary.

If I haven't mentioned my first shroom trip yet, I HAVE tried shrooms. They're fucking crazy good shit but I hate them 'cause if you wanna have any you've gotta be prepared to toss the next 6 hours of your day into the wind for some mushrooms. I'll post what I recall of my first trip next time I can. For now, This entry's gone on long enough. Peace out McNigga'z.
-Dice

Current Mood: restless
Current Music: KMFDM - Fuck Me

((Smoking Journal Part Two))

Feb. 20/07
Two cigarettes so far. Had the one I snuffed out yesterday, and another a few moments ago because it's 5:14 AM and my dad comes home soon. After that huge entry yesterday I slept like a log for the longest amount of time ever. It was a really good sleep but since then I've felt sluggish, which means the answer to my sickness/sleepiness was a cigarette. It snapped me into reality, and now I'm more aware of what's going on, but my stomach still feels sick, my head still feels like it's 20 pounds and on a slippery ball joint, and now I gotta cough up some more phlegm occasionally.

If it wasn't for the delicious smell of some food, I don't think I'd eat at all without weed. Thank god my smell comes back a little more with every cigarette I put down. I'm also pretty sure that Weed could get rid of this nasty stomach feeling I've got, that is, if I had some weed. But the world's cruel like that, depriving that of which many need. Jeramy doesn't deal anymore, and Jon's out. That leaves me alone on my ass. I wish I could just whip the weed-providers into producing some for me, but Jeramy's too nice and Jon is trying. XD

Man I love this BWB flash of mine. It starts with KMK sitting in a grassy field in the back of an alley with his bong, and he rips away at the thing, which is the first lovely sound you hear, and then the mellow, soothing guitar kicks in. Like life just got a little better. Homicide, a bro comes on over and has himself some, and we float off on a cloud (metaphorically) as the angels sing and the evening sun sets down over the horizon. It just perfectly captures... everything, about my love for weed. Quite possibly, this is the only flash that can cheer me up and make me feel happy. It's like replacement weed. Lol. I'm gonna ask Homicide if I can post it up on Sheezyart or not as a WIP, because really, we need more Flash artists who make movie's explicitly with the intent of making you feel better. Anywho, I'm gonna go work on it some more, Once those angels are done I think I can call the flash complete. Edit's later if I turn back to the smokes.

EDIT1: Ugh... Headache. Weed could cure that too.

EDIT2: Feeling better. The homebrew solution? Excercise and Vitamin B12, methinks. I got none of those recently. Or maybe I just needed time to recover from 18(?) hours in bed? Well... Anyway, I sit in this chair alot, so I do some leg-excercises at home occasionally. My upper body is just fine, I got some biceps I can show, and I got the outline of a 6-pack on my stomach, but any good weight lifter will know you need the leg strength to support all this muscle or your not going nowhere. Anyway, gonna have another few puff's on my cigarette and continue work on my weed flash. x.o

EDIT3: Finished that smoke... Made my head hurt a lil' bit.

EDIT4: Having another. Blood is coming over with his girlfriend, I still got that headache (kinda) and I got over a depression fit earlier, I think that made me have a smoke too, I don't know what the count is, I think this is my 4th, Me & Blood are gonna look for pot, because we both still don't have any. So I'm gonna have another one to try make everything go a little better for me. I've got NTAP (Spitzer's book) open right now, I'm reading through how Cigarettes damage not only your lungs, but your arteries too. Which can disable your limbs or even parts of your brain, possibly even your entire brain, killing you in a stroke. Of course... I can smoke and tell you this at the same time because I'm trying to quit. I just need to keep reading, keep reminding myself that what I'm doing is killing me every single time I do it, and maybe I'll be able to keep putting these cigarettes out, and hopefully, start to get better at it too. One way I could tell the cigarette is working is when my fingers went just a tad numb... and what Spitzer's telling me goes along with that.

March 03/07
One cigarette, woke up about a half hour ago but haven't really 'woken up' yet. Feel like calling Jeremy but I'm pretty out of it and that seems to happen everytime I feel like calling him. So... Cigarette to be a lil' more awake. Excercized today (Just 'cause the computers attached to me doesn't mean I have to be out of shape. =P) and my next workout'll be on Tuesday.

11:48 PM: Three cigarettes so far, so maybe about 1 an hour spread out. Got my green stuff so I'm gonna try observe what Pot does to my motivation, if it makes me wanna sprite more or sit around and do shit all. 'Cause progress on all my comic's has slowed down since summer break, even though I homeschool now and I can sit here and work more often... Maybe I read too much, surf too much, that shit. I just gotta avoid the internet, And entertain myself with what I can find on the PC, Lol.

March 04/07 9:51 PM
Ended yesterday night with a count of 4, and I'm working on my fourth one of today. Still smoking these matinee lights, though I shouldn't justify smoking with just that. I've been lighting up that bong all day and a bit of yesterday too, the high itself is alot of fun but I feel pretty unproductive and tuckered out in the burn out. That's why I'm lighting up right now. Though it's my fourth it doesn't feel like alot. It feels adequate when I'm smoking one an hour. 4 a day feels kind of like a minimum. Like having one meal a day or something. Neh, sooner I get off these things the sooner I can worry less about my health and money and more on other things.

March 05/07
Got so stoned I passed out yesterday after finished my fourth. Finished my fourth right now and noticed thats what it's starting to balance out to. Gonna re-write the word "Quit" on my left hand to keep me on-course. It seemed to work the other day.
10:17 PM: Finished my fifth.

March 06/07
10:21 PM and I've finished my third cigarette, the last in my pack. I don't know where I'm gonna get tomorrow's first cigarette, but I'll try and go without getting an entire new pack. Quitting sounds like it's gonna suck like shit. Sounds impossible. But it's not, And I'ma keep trying.

March 07/07
5:15 AM and I've already had my first smoke of the day, Though I'm awake from yesterday. Not sure if it was the pint of coffee or the cigarette, But I'm feeling pretty buzzed out and alert for so 'late' in my day. Woke up at 4:10 yesterday, almost like instinct. I constantly forget the fact that there's other stimulants out there, like coffee, that can help me stay awake through long, draining activity's. I forgot all about the day's where Cigarettes weren't the only thing that keeps you awake. I remember back in Alternate I'd usually try and find some change by morning so I could buy enough Coke's to keep myself wired enough not to pass out at any given moment. 3 cans a school-shift was about average. Probably made pissing feel like burning but whatev... At least I could breathe better back then. Later when I wake up again, I'm gonna try start my day with a coffee instead of a smoke. Though chances are I'm gonna be awake until at the very least noonish. Why?

(kinda off-topic)
I opened my inbox this morning to discover the pleasant surprise of a free 7-day charge for EVE online. All this Science Fiction reading I'm doing and all this star-research I'm conducting has made me realize something: I like space... The concept of what's past the sky really intrigues me. Plus, if you've ever taken a look at celestial objects, like the stars through a telescope, or artist representations of Mega Black Holes, you'll see that space can show beauty. A pile of glowing stars, pink, red, purple in hue... being sucked into a black hole like wet paint running on a canvas. And you could probably really see that somewhere in space. It also doesn't help I've been watching Star-Trek alot... It's kind of a romanticized story of space adventure. AAND the fact that the team that made EVE online is making a new MMO based on the Star Trek Universe has really got me fired up. They definitely hired the best guys they could for a Star Trek MMO, considering EVE is considered the best MMO on the market as of now. Glad to see Star Trek isn't gonna make the same mistakes Star Wars took.... Ugh... Starwars Galaxy's anyone? I'll pass, gimme a private server maybe. I just hope the Star-Trek MMO isn't a complete rip-off of EVE. 'Cause then I might end up switching MMO's to a more recognizable universe and letting all the work I put in my EVE account rot.

Sci-Fi, All in all, Usually just puts a futuristic polish on old concepts. EVE is like the old seafaring ages, only the ocean has Stars instead of Water in it, and ships can shoot lasers. Your still sailing through something, and there's still pirates, only it's not as primitive as riding the water in a big piece of wood. Your riding the Universe in a big piece of metal.

And really... Give me a choice between exploring through the sea and exploring through space, And I'll choose space, 'Cause the Sea freaks me out a bit. I mean, I like swimming, but after Titanic, Cthulhu, Giant Sea Squid and Prehistoric Gnarl-Toothed sharks, I don't think I find exploring the deepest depths of the sea a safe idea much anymore. That... and we've pretty much got a good idea of everthing you can see on Earth in geological terms. The Universe is fucking gigantic.
(off-topicness ends here)

EDIT1:
1:54 PM. Been having a blast playing EVE, updated BWB. Five cigarettes now, is what I think I'm at. Well, I haven't finished the fifth but I'm getting there. Trying to get lots done on EVE, the game kinda sucks you in like that. Though it's built to be friendly for casual gamers like me. So I can put it down for awhile and not worry.

March 11:
On my third for today, I haven't lit it yet but I plan to. Scanned a whole bunch of old family photo's of ours, taking a break and picking it up again tomorrow, 'cause it's time consuming. I've been keeping my smoking in the 3-5 matinee-a-day limit, and I keep putting off updating this journal, mainly because I don't feel I need an actual journal to keep track of how many smokes I have in a day, even though really, the point was to observe why I smoke, and not how much. Anyway, I'll try update 'fore I go to sleep with the total count.

EDIT1: 6:40 AM of March 12th now. Finished my 6th smoke. Life without weed sucks balls. With weed, I got everything I need. Sometimes I light up a cigarette just 'cause I wanna smoke something. I wish I could just grow this shit, that'd make my life a lot less complicated. But the thing is with Weed is that it makes me complacent, When I got the green shit I really do got all I need, but that's also the problem. I really don't churn out comic's like I used to. I don't exactly know the problem. I think I just take everything too serious nowadays, it's all business. One thing I remember about my comic making days... Was that I had a way, way over-active imagination. Sometimes my 1000 MPH brain could storm up idea's and idea's like a bottomless well of creativity, other times it would 'cause me to dwell on shit, and a whole lotta different bad shit, for so long I got so depressed and stressed out I'd feel like holding my head under water til' the world disappeared.

...Fuck I fool around with the idea of Suicide too much. A wise man once said "Kill yourself or shut up, Don't tease the Grim Reaper." and that wise man was me, I also wish I could stop being hypocritical... And there goes my brain again diving into the negatives.

I hate keeping the stoner side of myself a secret too. I think that's the thing I hate most about weed being illegal, it's so fucking Taboo. Really... It's not much more but a step up from Tobacco. A shredded plant wrapped in paper, lit on one end that, when inhaled re-wires how you feel a bit. Only Tobacco can be a depressant in large quantity's and a stimulant in small quantity's. I hate using Tobacco as a Stimulant as well... There's always a price to pay for trying to change yourself for the better. I wake up in the morning and I got two choices: Drink a coffee or have a cigarette. Cigarettes are like a "Work once in awhile" thing, but when they work they work good. They're the easy way out in this situation, Coffee works no matter how much of it you drink, but it's gotta be digested first and it also fills my stomach up and makes my body feel a bit loagy while my mind's wide awake. Which sucks ass.

At least hyperhydration is a good alternative to just chowing down like a fatass for some flavour. Smoking Weed gets me in the mood for binge eating... I bubble away the bong occasionally for a couple hours, and suddenly the overwhelming urge to eat comes along and I end up doing something retarded like eating 6 cinnamon buns and collapsing on the computer chair to find something else to do for awhile. Lol.

Complacency... Man I miss the days when I would play a videogame, and my mind would boot up and start working away like a madman at how exactly it worked, and almost unconsciously I would start piecing together how I could re-program whatever it was myself into my own games. Like the first time I played Shadowrun on the SNES, and ended up re-programming the entire third-person-shooter 'point and shoot' engine in RPG maker from scratch, my proudest game-making accomplishment. That happened almost entirely spontaneously.

That's what I miss... the ability to be spontaneously creative. I'm still looking around for what the hell it is that gets me in that mood. My muse, because I think I've lost it. Fred Gallagher talked about that whole "finding your inspiration" thing before in his blog/rant section... I can't for the life of me remember what he said, though I wish I could, 'cause I remember when I read that in the 'peak' of my webcomic making frenzy and noticing I could really relate to the message. Kinda talking about how making that shit was impossible unless you were in the right mood, so he kinda laid down his personal process for getting himself into that mood.

Bah. I've noticed I've trailed off again from the whole thing about smoking, but that's because when I start writing in this Smokers Journal I get my writing muse back... And I've learned that when inspiration hits, never ignore it.

So over these month's... I don't know how many, I've been searching for ways to fire up my muse. Ways to control my productiveness. Reading PUA books suddenly snaps me into Dice Mode, I've learned, so whenever I got plans to head out I usually try read a chapter or two out of my library beforehand. And reading through my old Comic Archives really gets me in the mood to MAKE a comic... but no idea's really come to mind. I've been so in-actively making my comic strips lately that I sometimes forget what the hell is even going on in the D&D world or the Senretsu Gaiden world at the current issue, and what the hell I was going to do next.

One very important thing Mystery talked about in maintaining conversation that I noticed can also apply to Webcomics (I've been doing it for years... And like Mystery also says, The first step to becoming great is to copy the mindset, attitudes and techniques of those who are already successful in the field you're interested in. My field of expertise is webcomics.) is Conversational Thread Theory.

Get a pen and paper Chillens, Sen's giving you webcomic tips again!

See... You start a thread, and in webcomics, that's a story arch, Or as I like to call 'em a Story Seed, as you've only planted it in your comic, and it needs time to grow first before it becomes anything beautiful. You go along and go along and go along and then STOP.... Then you plant another Seed, you go along and you go along and Bam, You stop that and you start another one.

Ideally... You should have about 5 seeds planted throughout your comic at any given time, just go wild and pepper your comic with them. What this does... essentially, Is not only show the happenings in other parts of your comic's Universe, but it also gives you five un-fleshed story arch's that you can continue at any given time, which is especially helpful when you're mentally bankrupt on good comic idea's.

Now... Back on topic, at least the webcomic topic. There's a couple things I gotta do before I start updating again, Mainly, re-read my archives, figure out what's Canon in my own Universe, figure out the overall Plot so far, (I got the outline in my head but not the specifics...) find my Seeds, maybe think up a few more, and then update.

...Doesn't sound like much, but that's really alot. So I should get started right away. Anyway, this is the conclusion to part 2 of my smoking journal. I'll try get back on track with... everything, again, but it seems the only way I can do that is to have a long-ass discussion to myself about it first. XD

Anyways, Comic making now. I feel inspired to do comic stuff, And I've been ignoring my muse for too long now. =P
-Dice

Current Mood: Inspired
Current Music: Snoop Dogg Ft. Suga Free - Bring It On

(This entry is about Me, And about Comic Strips, and how they've pretty much always been a part of who I am. An introspective look of 'Why I Sprite/Comic' -Dice)

My brother once said that, in his observation, my comic's were a way of expressing myself. Now, at first I smiled, nodded my head and took it as a general compliment or something. The wording made it feel more like a phrase than a statement. But the more I mulled over the comment, the more I realized that it rang true to a certain degree.

Up until that moment, I'd never really questioned WHY I made Sprite Comic's. I suppose I was making comic strips since as far back as I could remember.

My first comic "series" was about a bunch of blobby, neckless figures in capes with swords, who lived in a little base under the ground. They read alot like ancient egyptian wall-scriptures or something, the kind they put in tombs. There were no "Frames", just entire pages scribbled full of activity, and if you led your eyes from one spot to another, it would show this daring, Sword-And-No-Shield adventurer walking about and having plotless, pointless adventures through little lands that I drew up. I remember my longest issue took several full pages, and the premise was simple: The main character, based on myself at that age, climbed out of bed, climbed the ladder out of the underground base and walked through fields and cliff's until he came to a dragon, which I remember I had my dad draw, because I couldn't do it myself. I thought it was pretty pro, first and I think the last time I've ever seen my dad try anything artistic. I'm pretty sure this comic has either ended up in the trash, or hopefully, in the dank, cardboard-box caverns of our house' storage room, or maybe in my mom's posession? Whatever happened... I just remember the significance it had to me. I was watching (good) Anime when I was a kid, so being able to draw the amazing stuff was one of many childhood dreams. And, having no grasp on the concept of how animation actually worked (My comics had the movement drawn in like slow-motion after-images of the same person walking through the entire path bit by bit) I attempted most of my crude comic's on paper with a pencil in my spare time.

Next step in my comic evolution would have to be with my old (ex) friend Robert...

It was a year or two after my first attempts into the comic world I believe, and me & Robert, in our boredom, would hold stickfights. We both had our own stick-characters, drawn differently (Mine had a Cape and Bandana, Possibly a curious precursor to my 2004 Anarchy Character, Railen, Who wears a cloak, bandana and attacks with a Scythe.) with seperate special attacks and what-not, Most of mine being directly inspired by Dragon Ball Z (I could draw a pretty good spirit bomb and Kamehameha for a kid my age) and we would drag our fights across the page until one of us gave up and declared the other the winner.

From these stickfights my second comic 'series' began, this time consisting of sticks instead of blobby, clothed dough-boy characters. Lowering my medium of artwork got more comic's done faster, and so I began writing comic's parodying all aspects of life I found dysfunctionate, strange or simply couldn't understand. Some of them were pretty inventive, some were hilarious, but all in all I can only remember one of significance: My 'Robert Phone Home' comic. It never had a title but that's what I'd give it today, Anyways.... It starts, As Robert awakens at 8 in the morning (I remember I wrote '8 PM' and was corrected after I showed it to a few people) on the couch in my old house's living room and realizes he has to get home immediately. He leaps through the window, shooting out a claw from one hand and, with a battlecry, hooking on to a moving vehicle and being dragged around the corner. (he only lived 1 block away) Unhooking his claw, the inertia from the speeding car throws him through the thorn-bush-fence in his front yard, and Stick-Robert holds his hands above his head, bruised, bloody, but with a Triumphant, 8 in the morning return home.

Obvious to say, Robert didn't really find it as funny as it was, as I did badger him once or twice because when he slept over, he would usually leave early before I could wake up and see him go, and methinks it was a contributing factor to why we aren't really friends today. Lesson Learned: Humour at another's cost has it's price.

Then I went to the 'Great White' North, Which has neither greatness nor whiteness to be seen, unless you count the mud and the muddy snow. It was a land of Natives and I was one of a select few white kids constantly picked on by the Canadian equivalent of Rednecks. Thankfully, I was related through my mom to about a fifth of the town's population. I lived in my Grandma's house with my mom & sister, across the street was my uncle, down the street was my other Uncle & extended family, including my cousin who later became one of my best friends in that town. On the other side of town was my cousin's best friend, and later my friend too. The three of us were some of the best Yu-Gi-Oh players in town, ran our own D&D sessions every wednesday, and me & Bradley (Cousins best friend) weren't that bad at drawing. I remember once he drew an evil-looking elf, asking me if that's what a Drow was. I hadn't played real D&D at the time, so I shaded the skin color in dark and declared it a Drow. I just found that interesting because I hadn't seen a drow at that point for one, yet it was correct, and secondly because I personally think the picture looked better without the shading... so I kind of indirectly ruined the drawing. ^^;

I moved shortly after I bought my first drawing guide, a cheaper, watered down version of "How To Draw Manga" (Not the professional one, which is actually a good guide, mine didn't really go into specifics) and it was here that I first learned the basics of drawing anime. I remember I was pretty proud of the first time I drew a head, even though the chin was painfully pointy and the details weren't really clear as I'd erased alot of hard lines before my finished product. I experimented with the book a little which evolved my blobby clothed-dough-people style into a more anatomically correct but still shape-oriented semi-original style.

I moved up north without completeing the book, but I'd learned enough to make my drawing pretty decent for my age. I knew a few people who could draw pretty detailed skulls or other things, But I was probably the only person there who could draw my generic anime character "Wylde Card" from 4 different angles freehand. Wylde was generic as hell, and thinking back he should've belonged in pokemon. Fingerless black gloves, black T-Shirt with a random slogan on it, blue jeans, red bandana with black hair coming out the front and a pointy, pointy chin.

You can find a post-north pixel-art piece of this char on my sheezy right hyar.
http://www.sheezyart.com/view/420534/
Kinda disappointed it hasn't gotten a single comment so far, but what I think of Wylde always meant more to me than what others thought of Wylde. Also, I fixed the chin problem in my art by the time I finished that one. X3

Now... After posting alot of my Wylde art on the door of our closet-bedroom, and even having some of it get taken down (Only in the North could a kid be told that his art sucked so directly.) overnight, I kinda stopped drawing, mainly 'cause the comments on what I was doing wrong started to get to me. And after awhile I moved back down, Where, through some crappy MSpaint gag comics made on Wolf's computer, I learned of a new and easy way I could make good-looking, funny comic's without breaking my hand and re-drawing the same character doing the same thing in every frame. Copy and Paste! It was easy as that, And almost immediately I latched onto the stuff.

Posting my stuff around the BnG forums and getting flamed for it harshly, I learned that, even with proper balloons and non-garbled sprites unlike Wolf's comic, My comic still wasn't considered quality stuff, I wasn't, by far, the first person to make a spritecomic, and there were definitely people out there who put out way more effort than I did into these things.

So... I aspired to get better, WAY better. And show them all.
I got to work, and the rest of my spritecomic making history is... well, Just that, History. I'm pretty sure you know the story, and if not you can read SG at Drunkduck and get the gist of it there.

Now... back to the topic of this whole entry: Why I spritecomic.
I kinda got sidetracked pretty bad there, but I thought getting my comic making history in writing would make a good preface to a big text wall about why I've made possibly over 400 of these damned things.

So... Anime was pretty much my beginning. And as you've read Animation kinda faded out of my goals and was replaced by comic's. Why? A simple answer: I figured out how much agonizing work it takes to make drawings move, and decided I could never, ever do that by myself, and if I tried to get professional help, it would either be
A: Not up to my expectations and therefore a waste of time
B: A quick pathway in life to living in a van with a dead battery.
or
C: All of the above.

Jhonen Vasquez once said about his Invader Zim series, that the better part of working on it all was doing the drawing and the designs, seeing as an animation team took over the better half of his work. Jhonen was always... Half a rolemodel and half a figure of inspiration to me. JTHM, I thought, was a perfect image of myself in my more misanthropic years if I gave a shit less about whether I killed someone or not, and not just brooded and wondered why the world hated me.

So I thought, If animation isn't really fun, just business... and a Comic Book Artist could ascend to the levels of Animation-Dome, Why couldn't I?

Hasn't worked yet, Probably just because I use sprites to tell my story's and that's quasi-illegal-ish in most cases, but I assure you this place would be the first place I'd go if I ever had anything of mine published. XD

Now... I wasn't always a positive guy like I am nowadays, I don't know how big a secret that is but there was a time where I hated most people, thought mostly of myself and where my actual acts of good went wholly unrecognized and thus were sparsely peppered into my day-to-day life. I didn't really talk much, 'cause I didn't have much to say, and I didn't like those that talked too much either, mainly because it was like being present for a monologue that you were expected to nod your head to occasionally, and I hated that I would spend that much attention on something that paid hardly any heed to me.

And it's from that fact that I thought, "Hey, Maybe I do express myself through comics?"

I'm the youngest in my family, and back when I was a kid that meant alot. My dad was a working man and I don't remember too much about him, and my mom was a stay-at-home taking care of us 3 crazy little fuckers. I was pretty close with my sister, and my mom helped me out occasionally on things that were bothering me, though she wasn't above occasionally getting frustrated at me and doing something that totally crushed the good side of me. Like one day I remember I walked around the town, getting acquainted with all the shops in the new place and looking for a gift for mothers day for my mom that I really cared about. I looked through every store imaginable, the more memorable of which was a western ware shop with cool Knives in a glass display case. I just remember that one because I used the "present" excuse, reguardless of the fact there wasn't a single thing in there any mother would want for mother's day, I just wanted to check out knives and cowboy boots. XD

So I decided on a cool phone that I saw. I Walked home and asked my mom if I could get 80$, I wanted to buy her a present. I got one response: Laughter. She just laughed, I went downstairs to my room and thought to myself "Why in the godamn hell do I even try for these people?"

My brother always told me do this, do that, stay off drugs, stay in school... that shit. I usually modelled who I should be off what he told me. Which made me a really nice, polite, honest person. But not a drop of recognition from anyone I worked hard for.

Hmph... I dunno when I started this article, but it's 7:02 AM now and I need sleep. I'll wrap this entry up real quick here then.

Why do I comic?
1. The Laughs
2. The Art
3. For a Retreat
4. The Control

The Laughs:
Laughing... Every society on Earth knows what laughter is and its need. We laugh when we're happy, surprised, having fun... When I have a genuine laugh, for a short while, I get caught in the moment where one thing matters: The utter silliness or ridiculousness of the punchline, the one moment where what you thought was wrong and you honestly don't care, in fact, you laugh and feel good about it. And when people laugh at something I've created, or something that's come out of my mind, that means I'm funny, And I'm the source of this positive emotion others are experiencing. And really, As I've said before in a few drunk stupors, All I really want is everyone to be happy. Everything I do is usually, in some small way, an attempt to bring joy into someone's life, be it mine or an audience's. Sometime's I'm not feeling happy myself, and those are the times when I'm concentrating on making myself feel better, and can only expend so much energy in helping others feel better. And those are usually the times when the comic's take a backseat to real life. Though I still try and put out a few issues here and there, as I know they're usually doing some good, somewhere.

The Art:
Anime has always amazed me. Before Anime came along, all we had for Adult-Digestable animation was... Disney. If Adults wanted to watch Cartoons, they could be considered immature and watch bugs bunny or they could sit down and have a nice big cup of shut the fuck up. Drawing in general has always been an idea I've liked... placing the little images in my head (which, as a kid, ran rampant through my mind day in and day out) onto paper in a form where everyone I meet can take a glimpse into the fantasy world's of make-believe that I would daydream of and enjoy. Of course... I've never been the best at drawing, but I can sprite alright. And every issue I make usually fuels my muse, that muse where I just gotta create *something*. And it's times like those, those random, spontaneous bursts of creativity that do things like make me sprite a teal-haired knight with a sword that would branch off and spawn my 90-comic so-far-magnum-opus Dungeons and Dumbasses. And if I didn't keep making comic's and drawing, My art would have gone nowhere. And I would probably be some daydreaming Office Jockey twirling pens by the water-cooler with no purpose in life greater than to organize the database of some incompetent micromanager.

For A Retreat:
Like any human being I've got my share of problems and demons, Comic's have always been an alternative to really bad anger-fueled idea's of mine. Or really bad depression-fueled idea's of mine. Both of which I've had plenty. Comic's... Not only do they allow me to live through things I will never personally experience, but they cheer me up and give me the feeling I've accomplished something in a day that will be there tomorrow. When I was like... 7, my brother made the retarded idea of telling me about how the sun was gonna explode and swallow our galaxy in a good 7 bajillion years, and 8 bajillion years after that, the Universe would collapse and Humanity as we know it and all its accomplishments will be forgotten and wiped clean off the slate in it's entirety. Being 7, I had an instant freakout, found my life suddenly pointless and prayed to the Deity's that I wouldn't die. Of course... My brother first told me the Universe was going to die, and then after freaking out he let me know it wasn't gonna happen in my lifetime, I was still freaked the fuck out.

Nowadays... I don't really dwell on the issue too much. I'll be dead long before it happens, and I hope whatever I've learned in this life can help people that come after me, and... If humanity hasn't transcended into immortal energy-like beings by the year 20XX^3 I'm gonna be disappointed. What the hell else would Scientists be doing before the collapse of everything? Finding the cure to cancer? Fuck.

The Control:
"Control" can either be a sissy term or a frightening term. No one likes a person who's controlling, no one likes a person who has no control. For awhile before my life sorta settled down things felt like I was strapped on a train headed on a slow collision course with another train. Shit would happen, I wouldn't be able to affect it, and then at the end of the tracks I'd die and it'd be over. Plus growing up I had all this bad shit to deal with, Like my Parents Divorce and my Uncles manslaughter... Everything just felt like it was happening by force of nature. In a spritecomic... The people, the words spoken, the way the sun shines... It can all be fixed or changed to what I need or want at the moment. It all goes how I would like it, and it gives me the feeling of knowing what's happening.

I'm not sure how much control I feel I have over my life nowadays... but I know I don't have nearly as much of the anxiety that I did then. Maybe I'll ask myself that question another day, and give you another entry, but for tonight, I'm gonna call this entry a wrap.
-Dice.

EDIT:
I'll try start updating the smoking Journal again tomorrow, I haven't been keeping track of how much I've been smoking, which makes me kinda give a shit less about smoking another of these things, and then another, and then another. Haven't had pot since Thursday, Though I did some chores today and now I have enough money for an 8th, which makes me happy. Jeramy apologized for being unavailable for delivery's recently, which was really nice of him, 'cause I wasn't expecting or asking for an apology. Either way, I'm buying off him when I get up, least I could do for the nice dude is buy some of his merchandise. X3
PS: I read the entry and I gotta say this is one of those entry's I feel I did absolutely how I wanted it. I like those ones especially, 'cause if you feel good about what you made, you don't feel bummed after if no one else noticed. ;)
EDIT2: Been battling hunger all day... Even though the house is full. This wouldn't happen if I had weed on me. That Anorexic on "Intervention" nailed how I feel about most food when not stoned once in a day: Like I have the flu. Everything isn't as flavourful, and in fact, you kinda notice the crappier tastes in the food first. Again... If food didn't smell so good, I don't think I'd eat at all. Neh, The green ground-grown remedy will be on it's way tomorrow. Ph00d and then sleep. Night all.

Current Music: Beatles - Day Tripper

As I have no clue how many cigarettes per day is "Average" for me, I've decided to record the amount I smoke in one week. Amount is determined by how many butt's pile up in my ashtray by the end of each day. Hopefully this research will contribute to my effort to quit this frighteningly addictive drug.
-Dice

Feb 14/07
-4 Cigarettes, About average smoking amount. A small amount of restraint used. Got a cold that makes me cough up phlegm when I smoke anything (Green or Brown) so I didn't smoke copiously today. Tomorrow I'll either smoke regularly or copiously. I usually smoke copiously under high stress or high effort days. If I encounter any such days, I'll be sure to record my motivation for lighting one up... In hopes of finding what triggers my unconscious desire for nicotine. New entry tomorrow.

EDIT: Today's motivation for smoking is "Business"

I feel like I gotta get alot done. When I'm not snap-awake, I feel like passing out. And because everyone says I sleep too much already, I smoke to stay awake. When I'm awake, Theres two things to do: R&R and homework. Homework gets boring very, very fast. As it's quite straining and takes alot of thought & energy because it actually matters whether my answer is logically correct or not. So that makes me go and have R&R frequently. R&R is MMO's, videogames, spriting, party's and drugs. All of which, in long doses, make me feel a bit drained. Cigarettes clear my thoughts and sharpen the contrast on what I'm doing whenever my vision gets fuzzy.

Feb. 15/07
Smoked about the regular amount today that I do when I have a full pack and don't have to worry about how much I have. Which equals 8 so far. I'm headed to hang out & drink with Pheonix & Dez. We'll see how the social conditions effect my smoking.
EDIT: On my last conscious count, the amount of cigarettes I had was 11. I told everyone there that it was my 11th cigarette and someone was a bit surprised, I can't recall who. But it definitely was my 11th smoke, and I was a bit surprised at myself, but defitely not at the addictive power of cancersticks. The drinks fulfilled my need for a change in mind and craving for flavour. Cigarettes burn your tongue just a little bit, and hurt your throat as well. But if your mouth isn't busy, having a smoke usually doesn't sound like a bad idea.

Feb. 16/07
Three smokes, when I woke up I headed to see Ghost Rider with Wolf & Raioh, and then they followed me back home for a bit. So I couldn't smoke at home that day very much.

Feb. 17/07
I don't remember a damn thing about that day. But it's 1:05 AM of Feb 18 as I speak, so recording will continue from hyar on.
EDIT: I remembered to look in my ash tray, it looks like I've had two yesterday. One when Phinnie wake-n-baked me (Yay!) and another when I woke up. That'd bring the total in this "Day" to 4. (Woke up today, Continued on til' tomorrow)

Feb. 18/07
4:43 AM: 3 cigarettes so far. I'm kinda clueless as to what I should be doing right now, and how to get it done. And when I waste time like this I get nervous, because I've already wasted too much time and wasting time puts me behind in school.

Todays Motivation for smoking is "Boredom"

All my life I was told I'd be a bum on the sidewalk swilling Listerine if I didn't have an education, and from what I saw, that was partly true. Half way through school and I began to have doubts, Now I can't get back on track now that I'm beginning to think it's true again. It's a horrible cycle that I have trouble putting the brakes on by myself, But that's the only way I can do things: By Myself. I'm subscribed to a few newsletters on motivation, my favorite of which advocates the use of NLP. They don't actually motivate me very well to do anything productive... but they do cheer me up. And that's enough. The writer of these letters has also made a program on quitting smoking, though I don't have the money or the means to get it myself. Joel Spitzers free Stop-Smoking Book "Never Take Another Puff" has also helped tremendously. He also has a few video's on youtube I've watched. The guy's a bag of wind, and he doesn't look very pretty, but the fact that he quit smoking and has helped hundreds of others stop is a noble enough deed to make him likable. Replacing cigarettes with Pot has also proved a bit successful, as Pot burns my lungs less, tastes better and the general experience is similiar. Though I have no pot now, I have the money for it, And I plan on getting some later in the morning from either J or J.

EDIT1: I've scraped both my pipe and bong and come to the conclusion that one of my greatest reasons for being such a complete stoner is that Weed makes me honestly care less about the material things and care more for "real" things. It completely removes the "I'm a failure and theres nothing I can do about it" part of my thought train, the victim complex to speak. God, I shouldn't even be explaining this to you. To anyone without a reason to abstain from Weed... I look down on you, in a sympathetic light, that is.

EDIT2: I've also noted that up until this update or the last I'd been smoking Matine Extra Lites, the kind with holes in the filter. I made sure to let the holes work thier magic, maybe that's responsible for my weaning off cigarettes. One way or another, I've lit up another because Dez is online, And I wanna talk to her, but I'm nervous. I don't think the cigarette will make me talk to her, but it'll calm me down. I've poked a hole manually into the filter, as my throat is starting to get sore due to too much smoke and too little to drink. (I'm burning out from that Res as well... That could be a major factor.)

Feb. 19/07

8:09 AM: Woke up late last night at about 10-11 PM, when I heard my brothers voice in the hallway. I completely forgot he was even coming over, So I woke up, had some food and later went on the PC. Today's been absolutely boring out of my skull, though I watched the last episode of Dragonball GT, which gave me & the series the closure it deserved. It was a 4 minute montage of the entire franchise that ended with Goku flying off into the sky with Staff in hand on his Cloud, waving goodbye to the audience. I finished and uploaded Porgon's "Diabetes" flash and remembered that I actually did read the complete "Pretty Face" series, which wasn't too bad. My brother gave me an un-opened copy of Gorillaz Demon Days CD, which was definitely great. And now I sit on the PC adding to this journal, I digress much too often.

2 cigarettes so far, you can't really notice how bad your cigarettes smell when you aren't the one smoking it. When you're smoking alone or smoking with others, the majority of your breathing is done through your mouth. My dad lit one up while I was minding my own business on the computer and for the first time in ages I smelt the smell of Death... Cigarette fumes. They remind me alot of that New Car Smell that would make me sick to my stomach in Roberts Mom's Van, Sometimes I honestly preferred to walk home. The taste, once you've gotten used to enjoying just the taste of food in your mouth, is also pretty bad. Du Maurier tastes closest to food, albeit rotten food, or greasy, sloppy hotdogs. Matinee Light has the taste I despise most of them all... as not only do you get tons of bad flavour, you get miniscule amounts of nicotine. I don't believe I've said it before, But I'll say now that Exporte Greens are my favorite cigarettes. Some like to call them harsh as hell for your lungs, yet oddly they burn my tongue least of them all, as if the smoke was cooler coming from a Green. The taste isn't bad either, as Exporte seems less intent to pump thier tobacco full of lung-rotting flavour additives and more interested in a good texture. And of course... the high nicotine level. Usually one Green was good enough for me, more than that and I would be on vacation. I only recall once refusing a green, and I feel justified for it. Chances are the things are the worst kind I could be smoking. Though you can't get a 'good' cigarette, just different shades of grey.

I remember those little candy popeye cigarettes that people would hand out on halloween... some think it's just a way to let children harmlessly imitate thier parents, others find them tasty sugar-sticks, Personally, I'm just disappointed smoking would ever have that big of a cultural importance in this country to warrant Cigarette-Candy.

First Place I ever smoked...? I would have to say it was either behind my shed with my sister, or in Curtis's Garage. Me & My sister were always pretty close, partners in crime you could say. She was a pretty girl trying to be accepted in School and I was a rough boy trying to be accepted in school. Cigarettes seemed to be the thing for tough, mature types... My parents relationship got unstable, and they both brang back thier old, dead habits. And I found myself stealing cigarettes when I was 9 so I could show them to Curtis and be considered a cool, tough and mature guy.

Curtis and Me... We had alot in common. We were tall, lanky guys, with dark disshevelled hair. We talked kinda funny, so if you weren't paying attention we could tell. (My sister joked about him pronouncing my name "Glark") We both came from homes where our parents would yell instead of talking, our clothes were kinda faded or old, 'cause we usually got them second hand from family or organizations... and we were both kinda alienated from the crowd. Never made fun of, Never noticed period. And through this short fellowship we began our "Pretend Smoking". Curtis had a garage with car seats parked on the dusty cement floor, and it was here we sat with the shutter down and the glow of our smokes in front of our faces, talking and blowing smoke at the roof. A bonding experience.

Sometime later, Or maybe before, I remember I bought my Mom (as she had more importance in my life at the time) an ornate Ash-Tray for a present of some kind for some calendar event, Made of a dragon standing on it's hind legs with it's ridged tail curling around a dish. Me & My sister would do anything together, and it felt only right that if I smoked with Curtis, I could smoke with my sister. So there we sat, standing in-between the shed and our house with a big dragon ash-tray in one hand and our parent's Peter Jackson in the other, emulating what the older folks did in an attempt to get older faster than the rest. Our session was cut short by my dad driving up the driveway in his then-good car, we walked behind the shed and stamped out the embers and walked inside, leaving the tray to be recovered later.

This would be the first time I successfully avoided being caught with a cigarette between my fingers, and definitely not the last. I got good at it, It even became almost an art to me. There I was, Dice the catburglar, tip-toeing through the dark shadows of my parents room. My dad, like a sleeping security guard protecting the Nicotine-Filled treasure within the little white box. The goal was to take as many as I could without waking the Authority's who'd chastise me for theft. This evolved with my dad's addiction to, recently, a level where once a week, I'd steal an entire pack out of my dad's carton.

I remember another time, in the midst of this broken-parents drama, where my mother walked through the house with her new abusive boyfriend, it was one of those few times she made a visit, at least compared to how often I was used to seeing her. She seemed distressed, and talked about how the world would become simpler if she could just have a cigarette. Remembering the Peter Jacksons I had in my crayon box, I gave her one, and I got a lovely amount of praise from this innocent attempt to sooth my mom's suffering. Of course... she asked why I had it in the first place, And I don't recall what I replied with, but being young, unaffected by drugs and a hard worker at school, I can assume it was witty enough to be believable. And from there I began selling cigarettes to the visitors of my abode... to Garrett, To my mom, to my Dad, Whoever needed them. And occasionally, I would light one myself like a child-sized cigar in celebration.

((Cigarette Intermission))

Ok... Half a cigarette, and after staring at this little thing that has so much history with me... I've remembered even more I can tell you.

For many years, I was proudly clean of nicotine addiction. I'd belittle those who stood in the corners by themselves in a cesspit of smoke, fumes and slow self-inflicted death. Those I provided cigarettes to for at first a dollar, and then 50c and eventually 25c a piece had taught me better. They would look me in the eye and tell me "Clark, Don't ever start smoking. It won't do you a drop of good." which I knew and told myself I wouldn't. 25c a cigarette wasn't exactly profitable anymore, so I found myself lighting up a tiny amount more here and then to deplete the stash of cigarettes that would pile up in my hiding places, and, in my mind, to be able to connect a little more with my customers. I don't think I'm the first to use Cigarettes as trade-currency, and I remember once buying the entire Dragonlance series with 5 cigarettes from Garrett, who had just recently finished the book. 5 was alot to me back then, as without a pack and with everyone trying to take my cigarettes away from me as is, it was a bit of an investment to me. To this day I haven't finished that book, though I keep it on my shelf as a referance tool for Dungeons and Dragons story's and campaigns.

Occasionally I went to the U-Drop in, which was a youth-centre with Christian Overtones that attracted people young & old. It was here I met Jon, my good-friend and nowadays a small pot dealer, though he doesn't use Cigarettes or Pot, he's still a good drinker. And Pheonix, though at the time we were only acquaintances. Two conversations we had that I remember before we became good friends years later, one, where we discussed Yu-Gi-Oh and how they were attempting to re-create the Holographic Battlefields in Japan, and another time a small crowd of teenagers walked in, proceeded straight to the roof, disappeared and all came back red-faced and shy. Even a moron could tell what they did up there, and I remember laughing to myself as Sam told them that this would be the only time he would let them go without the police getting involved. Later I found that Pheonix was one of that group, but he left before the roof incident. Pheonix was a less-ashamed cigarette smoker, seemingly not intent to quit or caring that his smoking was harming him. The first time I tried Pot was on my deck with Garrett & Pheonix, through a large, ghetto lung made of a Sunny D jug cut in half with a breadbag as the chamber taped over the bottom. We did a roach, and though I only had a little (due to Garrett's interferance) I only felt a minimal change. My face got red and I felt a little hyper, though I was unsure if I was genuinely hyper or if that was the green stuff I just smoked.

Me & Pheonix bonded slowly over the years, and nowadays me, Jon & Pheonix are all best friends (Droogs, as we're known) and although Pheonix isn't responsible for my getting into cigarettes, he did help feed my addiction some.

Next on the list is how I actually got started. Through a small off-campus education school for Educational Rejects like me. It was here I met one of my few Native friends in life, Christian. An almost Ironic name for this story... Though we just called him Chris. It was around this time, in this school full of rough's that I began stealing by the pack from my dad. I also met my other now-close friend here, Blood. I spotted him playing a good-looking browser-MMORPG (the kind of which I was searching for, as we were allowed to use the internet, and just the internet at the computers there) and I walked over and asked what he was playing, which turned out to be Runescape 1. It was the start of a strong friendship.

Anyways... By the time Chris had joined my class, I had been at the school for a year or two. And so I had no problem fitting in with whatever rotation in students that my teachers had. Chris was new, so me and him made some small-talk occasionally. Me & Chris lived in the same general area of town (The north-west side) so we started walking home together, I saw him light a cigarette one time on the walk, and being a small smoker myself, and it being a beautiful summer evening minutes after we were released from the hellhole education centre, lit one up myself. I had easy access to full packs whenever I needed them, and my throat and lungs were doing just fine in those days, so this was the better part of my cigarette smoking 'career'. We would walk around town, lighting up without regard whenever we were bored, and his mother was once a pot-dealer, so it was at his place that I did my first blades, and learned that smoking pot was not a bad thing, nor was it a thing to be looked down on. For awhile, it was good. We had cigarettes, we had pot, we had company, and it was always sunny, beautiful and alive in the streets of that ghetto part of town.

Eventually, I stopped seeing Chris at school, and me & him drifted out of contact, Though we were still good friends when we split. And it was then that I began hanging out with Blood, Who introduced me to the crew at Herby's, the first pot dealer I met and made friends with. The three of us drank Rye, Smoked, Headbanged to ICP and grappled with others in the Coops, and for a time, it was again good.

...I'm very honestly getting tired writing this, and I'm sure it's gonna make for a gigantic entry, so I'll tell one more tale and we'll call it a night. This is the event that got me addicted.

It was another schoolday, a day like any other. I dragged my tired, lethargic ass out of my warm, comfortable bed, and walked to the porch to put on my boots. That was always the worst part of my day, getting out the door. I learned to loathe the smell of leather coats that floated nearby the door, as it was usually the beginning of a tiring, boring 9 hours. To me... The very fact that I had the responsibility and will to push myself out the door and across 24 blocks for the very sake of my education alone was enough to deserve some respect from the school and it's staff. Today, Would be one gigantic slap to my face, pride and will. It started out alright, I walked into the classroom at 9:15, placed my coat on my desk chair as all the heads turned my direction and I curved my lips in a false smile to avoid questions or scorn, turned my CD player on blaring volumes to drown out distractions and got to work. I visited the water-fountain once or twice for a refreshing splash of water to keep me through the work. And during the 10:15 break I stopped by the bathroom to empty my bladder of the accumulated stress of a day's frustrations.
((Cigarette Intermission, This story bothers me extremely to this very day))
3 cigarettes...

My teacher came back to the room, and called me from my desk to follow her outside. I rolled my eyes, dropped my pencil, stopping my productive roll that I was on, likely for the remainder of that day, and walked her way. This wouldn't be the first time she brought me to the little jail cell across the hall to chastise me for being late, for being behind in my work, for being absent when it all grew to be too much... but today was different. She closed the door behind her and brung me to the front of the school, where I was brought to the principals office... "Fucking great... This day just keeps getting better doesn't it? I bet she's gonna tell me I'm failing, that I'm not gonna pass this grade, That I'll have to keep working on it next year, and that I'll just have to put away those other subjects and focus on one in attempt to have SOMETHING finished by the end of the year." The principal let me sit in a nice, plush chair against the wall, the kind they give you when they're gonna give you thier worst, but definitely not the crappy, cramping ones they made you sit in for 9 hours as you slaved away at your paperwork like some kind of unpaid office jockey. The principal came in, her black, thin-framed glasses underneath her frizzy, blonde hair. I was sure those glasses were only there to make the students think she was smart. My teacher said something quietly to the principal and left me to my doom. "It's come to my attention.. that there's been some derogatory writing on the walls in the bathroom, making very serious threats to an individual in the building. We treat these cases very seriously Clark." Wait... what was she telling me? Was this about the "CRK was here/2006" I scratched in the bathroom door? I'd been here for three years, wasn't I allowed to leave a mark in this school like the school made in my life? Just how big of a Nazi was this woman? "Now... After comparing the writing to the students in the Junior High part of the school, yours matched the writing the most." No fucking way. "Now... Ms. Graham has informed me that you were the only one of her class to visit the bathroom this morning, Is that true?" "Yes?" "And did you write anything on the walls?" "Yeah but... I didn't use any marker, and I didn't threaten anyone. I just scratched my initials in it." She nodded and went to the office in the front. Her and the teachers assistant chatted away, thier lips moving but the noise didn't travel my way. That bitch of a principal chatting away as non-challante and pompous as ever, our assistant nodded and commented, her face looked concerned. Did someone threaten her on the bathroom walls? Or was it someone else? I couldn't believe my teachers assistant was blaming me... wasn't I a good kid? Didn't I work my hands into repetitive strain injury for them? The principal came back. "I didn't do it." "We know you didn't Clark... But I have to urge you... that if you know who did this, that you get them to confess. The person who was written about is very disturbed and frightened about what was written about them, and if whoever did it could just confront them about what they did, we could let this pass." she never said 'What you wrote', But I could tell that's what she wanted to say. She said "They" "them" "Whoever Did This"... But not once did she leave that room, not once did she bring another person in there. To her, I did it, And I was in denial. I felt like I was being interrogated all over again. Like I was in that little room in the police station, on the other side of the metal table with the little humming tape recorder on it, being asked, bit by bit, how my Mother stabbed my insane, drunken Uncle. "I said I didn't do it." I barked at her, my heart sinking into my stomach, fighting the tears that were trying to flow "Right, Well, I'm gonna go and look into this a little more, you remain here." For what? To think about what "I" did??

I sat in that room for 3 hours, tears running down my face as these horrible people questioned and held me in this prison, convinced I publicly proclaimed my desire for the death of a faculty member. By 2, they let me go, to go "Back to my class". But I knew where I was going, and that wasn't it. I glared hatefully into the eyes of my principal one last time, as she said "If this really wasn't you Clark, I am truly sorry." the words sounded wooden, they weren't hers, It was as if they came from a piece of paper. I stood up, walked slowly out of the room, and threw the front doors blocking me from the world outside into the wall so hard that I hoped they would shatter into pieces. If I wanted any faculty member dead, it was her. School wasn't over yet, But it was for me, and I made my way to the little field surrounded on 4 sides by an alley, a construction site and houses. I yanked my pack outta my pocket and lit one up the second I was outside that door, and kept smoking for the rest of that hour as I cranked my music lying in the snow of the field. If there was such a thing as death by overdose of nicotine, I'd make it happen, right then and there. I sucked at the filter, inhaled, exhaled, threw the butt on the ground and lit another one. Half a pack was gone by the time my dad found me on his way to pick me up. I sat coldly in the passenger seat, my throat was hoarse, I didn't wanna say anything and couldn't anyway. I was dead inside, And I didn't go to school for the rest of that week.
-Dice

Current Mood: aggravated
Current Music: Gorillaz - Don't Get Lost In Heaven

Dear Die-Ary...
Mood, Apathetic.
Blablabla Stabby rip-stab-stab.

Resolutions
-Quit Smoking
-Get A Job
-Do your Schoolwork
-Practice Drawing
-Get 8 hours of drugs
-Drink Your Chief
-Stay In Milk
-Keep working on your game

This is kinda filler, yeah. But I'm a bit unmotivated recently. I'll update with more interesting stuff later
-Kottonmouth King

Current Mood: apathetic

Howdy Journal. For the first time in ages, This entry is being written by C. As in, I'm not stoned in this entry, And haven't been for a long, long time. (8 days now to the mark) AAGGGGHH it's driving me bonkers. I find myself enthusiastic about... nothing. All the lame music I listen to as well has suddenly become dry and tasteless. Classical music makes sense to me again. I find myself concentrating too hard and fussing over small details. My eyes feel heavy and it's not 'cause I'm baked. My mouth droops into a flat, serious expression at all times.

And I find myself unmotivated to do fuck all but... fuck all. I don't even feel like topping that senteance with some examples. I just have the same words running around in that empty box of mine I call a head again and again. "Pot" "Weed" "420" "Bake" "Stoned" "High" "Joint" "Bong" "Grass" "Green" "Dope" my mind chants.

Everything is boring as hell.

But I digress...
Everything went well at Muze' dad's. In fact, it went spectacular. All this fussing I've been having over this grandiose "Master Plan" of the droogs has all been proven moot. Whenever they brought the subject up, I'd get almost an anxiety attack and avoid the topic at all costs. Why, You might ask... Well, When I first started hanging out and partying with Muze and Phoenix, I can remember that I shit-talked about them alot. Not to anyone in particular, but I generally thought of them as having a negative impact on my life. My schoolwork suffered, ties to my old friends broke with a "SNAP!" and my family started Alienating me, though they tried not to. It's just that I had changed and they couldn't grab hold of who this new person was in their household.

But... Nowadays, with a clearer mind and much thinking, I can say that I truly like both of the guys. The times they've helped me heavily outweigh the times they've wronged me, and I understand now that I put much too much focus on the negatives.

Now, how does this relate to fussing about our plan for moving out and starting life on our own? Well... Let's say the feelings of anxiety and unjust hatred still lingers deep within me, and under the right triggers, flares up again. Those triggers, I've found, are usually hit whenever I'm invited somewhere, or we begin planning the day together. Many times in the old days of my second life when I was sitting at home in my lonesome, and Pheonix or Muze called up and brought me somewhere, I would at first think of it as a great thing, that they would rescue me from this land of bore. The evenings would pass, we would have our fun, and I would end up right back where I started... At home, in the living room with nothing more than the computer screen illuminating the room. Only in this case my weed bags would be empty save a few crumbs and my wallet many dollars lighter. And deep inside, That fire would burn like hot coals and I'd realize what a mistake I'd made leaving the house.

....And that's my side of the story, that's my reasoning for being such a hard motherfucker to pry away from my home. In social dynamics, it's written that to truly feel relaxed, you must rid yourself of the feel of an unfamiliar territory. In a land you don't know, you have to look behind you every 10 paces to see that no one is following you with a baseball bat, you have to wonder, "Would it be ok to flirt with that cute girl there, Or am I going to get beaten for it later by humourless AMOG's?" and at my home... I am in no unfamiliar territory. If someone has a problem, I'd spare myself the hesitation and grab the crowbar from my closet and tell them who's house they can fuck around in.

...And I can't quite do that in any other place.

Back to the point, while at Muze's dad's, all my fears of living with these two dissolved away. Pheonix shared all of his pot as I shared mine (Aside from a personal bowl... But I own so little of my own pot that I can't afford to be sharing every bit of it with the community) and Muze fed us a good meal once a day, not to mention the copious amounts of liquor consumed over that 3-day weekend. I had my own bed, in my own room, and in that area I had my own privacy. I slept for as long as I wanted, from 8 to 12 hours a day and when the others woke they had the respect in them not to wake me. We threw our garbage on the floor and had long interesting discussions in the night. All these factors combined led to a very pleasurable weekend.

Alas, all these visions of grandeur and it was but a taste of what would be to be experienced in the event that our master plan would work!

Our master plan... I've spoken of it, but I have not elaborated.
See, It goes that Muze would finish his education, as would I, And Pheonix would have finished his University by that time as well. Muze would have been holding a stable job for awhile by then, or recieved some large stipend of currency that we would use to fund our expedition into the life of pot growing dealers. Pheonix would be running his computer shop, Pheonix Rising Computers, which I believe was always what he'd been shooting for, And I feel glad that he has the will to pursue his dream so. Naturally, We would need someone with exorbitant knowledge on Marijuanna and it's agricultural growing process. And that's where I would step in.

For a noteworthy time (Almost as long as I've been smoking pot.. In fact) I've been running a webcomic, "Better When Baked" which was to serve as my medium of educating the masses on the true safety of Marijuanna, and it's major positive effects on the industrial and medical world should it be legalized. I make many claims this webcomic, and on such a delicate topic such as drugs, a man making unfounded claims would be lambasted. And THAT, Leads us to where I learned so much about this magical green plant. As spreading misinformation about a plant that has turned my life around is nearly unthinkable in my standards, I've done a sizable amount of research on the topic. And every claim I've made (Such as weed being less dangerous to your system than 10 raw potato's) has a factual basis. I've poured over research sites, crawled across legalization pages, read schematics for ungodly-complex bong and other smoking contraptions... all for the good name of stoner culture.

So, I know alot about pot, and growing it, I imagine, would be my first answer to the question of, "How can we fight for legalization?".

Because... As a victim of prejudice to my "Stoner" label, and seeing the scorn that simple mention of the topic can generate on a persons face, I feel the need to change the world to better know and trust this wonderful thing. I think of myself as a freedom fighter for pot, as silly as that might sound.

Ahh... Now, I can only dream of the day we droogs own our own house. Pot would rain from the sky, we would work so we would hold a place in society, we would have eachother only a few feet away to combat the loneliness and lack of understanding each of us must face, and best of all, through selling our pot, we would be helping a brother in need AND we'd be stacked. B-)

Perfect plan, I tell ya'. Perfect plan unless we get caught or ratted out.

Now... Back to the topic of Muzes place. We drank a bottle (Not a mickey... A bottle.) of Everclear, a mickey of Crown Royal, A bottle of lamb, and a 40 pounder of peach cooler. We had sperm-shaped shooters complete with googley-eyed caps and on whipcream day we topped our mixes with some of the sweet white stuff. It was great.

New Years? It was lame. Very lame. I hung out with my old friends (I never cut a tie to my friends willingly... So I decided I'd keep up relations.) and what I planned to be a short visit turned into them following me home and keeping me awake at night... them, and the fact I had no pot. Muze phoned me up from a party and I ground my teeth together and said "Bye" as I sat at home with two lamers that followed me to my own house. Apparently we had some "tradition" thing going on where we spent the last two new years together, so they wouldn't leave me alone. This Dice lost out on what sounded like an amazing new years party.

I'm sure this entry is humongous by now, I can tell my entry is long enough when my fingers start to hurt. It's 2:55 AM now, I've officially been writing in here for an hour. It's time for sleep, Night everyone, and wish me luck with the pot problem. I could really use a hoot to ease my mind. x_x;
-C.

Current Location: Home
Current Mood: exanimate
Current Music: Mozart - The Blue Danube