Colorful Delusions

I've been getting more and more interested in english musicals these days. Avenue Q, RENT, and even some Disney. I keep forgetting that english songs are not all love and emo. Ah, watching Rent last thursday was good. It won't stop me from getting foreign songs I don't understand the lyrics of though.

You know what else watching Rent has rekindled? My love of fire. Fire burns things, and I like watching things burn. Too bad smoke has to come from burning. Well, nothing is all good anyway... except for Final Fantasy 7, but maybe just because I'm a fanboy of that game.

Has anyone else tried recreating the Final Fantasy 7 cast in Soul Calibur 3's Chronicle of Swords? I did! I can't say it was a good job though. The next SC customization option should have body type options. -_- Barret never looked so skinny, nor did he ever wield daggers. I only picked dagger because the bombs suit Barret. You know, since he used to bomb Mako reactors. Bombs go 'splodey and make enemies fly!

The most annoying of insects fly, like bees, houseflies, mosquitos, and the uncommon flying cockroach. There was something like that in my room a day ago. It was like a cockroach, only skinnier and had longer legs. Not only did this thing fly, but it kept moving; flying inches past my face, crawling across walls and seemingly disappearing from plain sight. It was disturbing enough that it was flying around where my computer was while I was using it, but that wasn't enough for it. Unlike most bugs I don't mind, this thing doesn't just mind its own business in the surrounding area. This thing liked buzzing on my face, getting on my arms, and latching on my leg wound. It just had to die. The thing is, this thing kept moving; it was too much of a formidable foe for the common slipper. I had to get myself off my comfy chair, get the Raid from my parents' room, and miss several times before I got to spray it to oblivion. Maybe staying in my room while it was completely raided was what got me this cold I have in the first place.

Colds are so troublesome. I do not like the runny nose, I do not like the slight headache and I do not like the weak feeling I get whenever I catch one. At least, the weather is cold. I like this period from December to February.

It's december 24, the day before Christmas. Somehow, my train of thought went from musicals to Christmas eve. *shrug* Merry Christmas Eve! I'm not greeting Merry Christmas yet, because that's tomorrow.

posted by Raziel @ 6:12 PM 0 illusions

for 5 subjects of course cards, 32200. failfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfa
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filafailfaiqlfailfailfailfail that's me! yes, those were all manually typed. no copy-paste cheating this time! I'll be seeing the others in compro2 again.

err, those fail typos were intentional. yeah.

typing fail over and over again is eeriely easy now.

give me one day to get over the fact that I have to retake compro2 and tredone next term. that, and an arcade trip. preferrably with something to look stupid in like guitar freaks and a game like soul calibur. Meanwhile, I obsess over my failures!

failfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfailfail!

posted by Raziel @ 6:57 AM 0 illusions

Within the cold confines of the small wooden chamber, one fatigued warrior can be seen running about; reading again and again for any critical point he can find. Whenever there was a sliver of hope, or even a hunch, he would strike, leaving his mark on the taunting beast. The beast knew of his dreams and aspirations. It used this knowledge to destroy the warrior's hope and determination to its full extent. "You could never be a programmer!" "You thought you could make it far without even knowing this much?" "There are many more hardships much more difficult then this." "There is no hope for you!" The monster's words repeated itself in the warrior's mind. There was no time left. In a leap of faith, the young man struck three last marks at random. Out of tricks, the mischievous foe disappeared. The end was merely temporary relief. Though the conflict is over, the results of it is still unknown. Chances of victory were still bleak. To recover from the pain, the clueless ballpen wielder sought companionship from those who have suffered through a similar predicament. For a sweet period of time, misery was quelled by the sharing of tales of each one's exploits and a sufficient meal. The nonsensical prediction of the seer and the pointless tale woven by four minds caused much merry laughter before each left for his own dwelling. Much uneventful time passed, and the first day ended.

Much to this one’s pleasure, the second day started when the sun rose to the peak of its path in this side of the world. Despite being uneventful, boring, but very restful, the day provided to be a period of recovery. It quickly ended without a sound. Life would prove to be short without uninteresting days such as these.

Light has yet to appear from beyond the horizon, and already this adventurer proceeds with his usual morning preparations. Proceeding two train rides and several footfalls, he has once again stepped into the arena. This time, he faces a familiar foe; the keeper of confusing numbers and symbols. Though severely humiliated before, this man has prepared through apprenticeship under a much more competent master than the last time. All the knowledge he needed was stored within the depths of his memory. The time allotted was just enough to deliver the finisher. The confrontation seemed to have posed not much difficulty. When a lack of preparation was made apparent, his master came to his much needed aid. It may not have been flawless, but victory never felt so assured. Lunch and departure followed, and nothing of interest occurred on the third day.

The following days proceeded in the same fashion, with one opponent of great difficulty in each. In the fourth day, this warrior regretfully crossed ink with the boss that wasn’t meant to exist. Its appearance on this day has come to be only because of a class prosecutor’s rage manifesting itself. This manifestation was not like the others in any way. There may have been possible points to strike easily seen in the others, but this one required a more drawn out process to finish it. It took a forced recollection of painful memories to just give the desperate fighter a chance to even touch this foe. In the end, the demon of Theology walked away, laughing haughtily. There was no way to tell if the hits thrown with desperate determination were feather-light or critical. Light was shred on what I need to accomplish from this skirmish to achieve the next level. Whether it was a gift or a curse to find out is still undetermined.

Being the final day of this pain, it has proven to be the most eventful. As always, it started with another exasperating timed battle. It may not have been as annoying as the last one, but it had a way of breaking the weary combatant’s concentration. It sprouted nonsense; utter nonsense. It sprouted so much nonsense that the warrior’s will to win constantly had to overwhelm the ever-growing anticipation of the end. Its words went to the extra mile and not only immobilized the contender on more than one occasion by lack of interest, but siphoned all the interest out of him. It was not particularly as vicious as the wrath of the previous prosecutor, but the rapidly decreasing determination still made it an overwhelming challenge. Constantly re-reading the enemy’s movements while struggling to stay alert, the warrior took a slow but cautious pace handling this obstacle.

The end of the battle was not the end of the day, however. Following suit was the quest to deliver the package of mnm’s, Pepsi, bunny apples, and humor. Being the leader of three, the warrior accepted the job of navigator as his duty. With a map previously used to attend an important annual event, the troupe of three set off for the train station. Quezon avenue bound, the loading time was excruciatingly long. With the map as a guide, the mighty trio treaded forth, following which streets to skip, and which streets to turn. Weary, they found themselves in Camelot, the destination of many heroes and travelers of legend. Unfortunately, that was not their intended destination. After going through all the text boxes from inspecting signs and inquiring villagers, the lost three questioned the credibility of the map. The conclusion that they were hopelessly lost eventually set into their minds. Much failure in the attempts to temporarily recruit a mercenary of transport was experienced as time passed. Eventually, at the cost of evoking the wrath of the caretakers, the summoner of the group called forth the Draiber, the majestic being with the mighty steed of metal and smoke. The travelers finally made their way to their destination.

With the quest items delivered, much to the joy of the plagued maiden, the company discussed speedrun strategies for starcraft campaigns and traded spoils of war. Much rejoicing occurred. An hour or so after the great ball of fire has fallen, the adventurers departed, knowing they have brought happiness to their ill friend. With only the general direction in their minds, the unsure triad had begun the walk along the street of unfathomable length. They walked, and walked, and walked, stamina running low due to lack of endurance. Once again, temporary recruitment for a mercenary of transport constantly failed… until a persistent attempt at a corner. The summoner separated from the team along the way to the train station, leaving the thief/assassin/navigator/leader and the projectile weaponless self-proclaimed sniper. The projectile weaponless self-proclaimed sniper soon left the company of the assassin/navigator/thief/leader upon arriving at his home town. Alone, the final warrior treaded homeward bound, expecting the wrath of the landlords. By sheer luck, that wrath never came. Home at last, the tired adventurer returned to his usual routine in the alternate realm, the Internet, doing pointless things such as this.

posted by Raziel @ 11:36 AM 0 illusions

Today is supposed to be no special day. Whenever it is, I screw up and whatever happiness I had gets overlapped by regret and depression. Usually, I get by by treating it like anyother day with minimal festivities and celebrate at a later day, when it's safer. But now, there's this project bringing me hopelessness from the first second of the day. I have to submit it today, and I'm not even half done. Then again, I get released from it later on today so I'll finally be able to breathe. Then again, I'll worry about my compro grade and keep getting burdened by this thought that I failed compro2 already and will have to take it again. Curse you, DLSU! Your double-edged gifts will be the end of me!

I have a million other definitions of MP, but you're all probably tired of those by now, ne?

Right now, I'm still wide awake. Why? I bought one large bottle of coke, 2 packs of bread pan, and a large pack of clovers to keep me company over the night/morning. I also had a crunch bar very early on. Hyped up on coke now, I am!

Why do I post this when I should be working? I'd say to preserve sanity, but you all know that's impossible at this point. It's because I'm on the verge of giving up and these distractions are what keep me from being emo and cutting my wrists with my laptop. Yes, I am that hardcore, you emos! Your puny razors are laughable compared to cutting yourself with a laptop!

Now, concerning when I'll celebrate, it can't be this weekend since I'll have finals coming up next week. After next week though, it should be my sembreak so I should be free for several days. I'll have to claim that P200 of powerstation credits by thursday or I miss my birthday bonus. What's a good day when everyone is free? I have no plan on what to do exactly, but I will have extra money and it would be a shame to spend it all on myself... Not really, I can just use it all on Power Station if I felt like it.

Wizards in Winter by TSO roXXorz. I've been listening to it all night now thanks to http://youfail.org and its infinite loop. Must... download...

posted by Raziel @ 9:14 AM 0 illusions