Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

I dislike the phrase, it suggests a weakness that I have been railing against, but I'm wasting away (or, at least I was, now I'm not so sure). Despite my distaste for it, I can't argue its accuracy. I'm lethargic and pallid, I've hardly been eating or sleeping, I've lost weight, I spend hours each day not moving at all, only feeling "better" when I've let go and slipping into something so thoughtless to call it apathy would be an exaggeration of feeling. More blank, and I wonder if that is the state that most people have to fry the shit out of their brains to arrive there, whereas a simple hormonal mix of sadness and illness brings it out in me.

Maybe the cello isn't such a good idea for Christopher. It's encouraging him: the intimate playing style upon an instrument with a slender waist and beautiful neck. Look at it, it's almost human shaped and sized, and the way he wraps his legs and arm around it. At least with a violin there's no such problem.

Well, maybe this way he'll have a real relationship for once.

I'm still strangled, unable to speak about so many things flying about my head. And yet, there isn't much to say. More of a longing, a desire for an end to absence. I'd prefer cruelty to nothing at all.

In contrast, pre-KMM curry pumpkin soup, KMM and A Bittersweet Life were positively marvellous. I felt better in those hours than I have in a while. It is far away again, the feeling I mean, difficult to touch or remember, but it was very nice. Terry helped me with my playing, and the film was magnificent and managed to not fall into any of the obvious cinematic pot holes that it could have. I agree with Bailie in that it should be watched again, this time without the hesitation and the cringing horror that there might be some happy ending or trite love story. The combined effect of the warmth of company, shared amusement, dry nasty wit, and comfortable laps, shoulders, incredibly good cinema and late-night past-bedtime matches of Zertz was amazing.

Chuck Norris lost his virginity before his father did.

One time, Chuck Norris hit Mr. T in the chest with a roundhouse kick at the exact same moment that Mr. T punched him in the face. The resulting explosion was the eighties.

Vin Diesel doesn't go hunting, because that would imply some possibility of failure. Vin Diesel goes killing.

Shadow of the Colossus is truly wonderful. Incredibly immersive and managing to tackle a David versus Goliath feeling marvellously (it still plays second fiddle to the best PS2 game of 2005, God of War but it's still pretty snazzy). I can't help but agree with Megali's complaint that the stupid girlfriend isn't worth eradicating a race of ancient beings, but ironically that vehemence might be rooted in my shitty love life and not a reasoned responce at all. Ah well, at least I'm not crying watching stupid teen flicks.

There's a new Salad Fingers, in case you didn't notice. The animation is better but it is less creepy. You should probably watch The Child That Smelt Funny if you're into that sort of thing and you haven't already.

And, lest we forget, HARRRRRR!

Written On: Laptop

PS An anorexic girl goes through potato chips in desirous, short, frenzied, and guilty bursts.