|recent history||April 18, 2016, 11:10 pm|
|war||April 18, 2016, 11:16 am|
has been declared. Two enter, only one will leave.
I have three mates; Jock, Paul and Shaun. Both Paul and Shaun own property right next door to each other. This is ironic and slightly tragic, because they fucking loathe each other.
Jock, Paul and I are in the pub getting minkit. Shaun is not in the pub, because he is banned again for twatting somebody during a particularly aggressive karaoke competition. Everyone is pished.
Jock and Paul go home together, and because Paul is stuck in the 90's, decides to start blaring Happy Hardcore on his stereo at one o'clock in the morning. This irritates Shaun, who proceeds to Paul's doorstep and has the mother of all chimpouts allover his welcome mat. Paul and Jock answer door and threats are made; things are said that cannot be unsaid. Shaun threatens to do Jock in, so Jock punches him in the face.
The police are summoned. Jock makes his escape out of a second floor window and flees into the night, a wanted man who is still, as far as I know, at large. Paul declares his innocence of the assault; as he is only guilty of terrible taste in music and not of actual assault, the police leave him be with a simple caution.
Fast forward half an hour after the police have left. Paul sits in his living room in a coma. He is rudely awakened by the brick that comes sailing through his front window. Clean through. There is no note attached to the brick, because Shaun has a bit more class than that. Paul rushes to his door to confront his attacker, but of Shaun there is no sign. Instead, he sees that someone has spent his half-hour productively, and has carved the word DICK nine inches high into his door with some sort of cutting instrument.
I fucking love my mates. But they are probably going to kill each other at some point this week.
|Feeling Fucking Amazing||April 17, 2016, 8:49 am|
Just sitting here on a Sunday night with "Psycho Killer" playing on loop while I think about how fucking amazing my hair is and how great I am. Being a self absorbed narcissistic bastard is the greatest fucking thing in the world.
Life is good.
Anyone else love themselves more than they do everyone else?
|I installed GZDoom Builder||April 15, 2016, 3:51 pm|
|Haven't made any maps in like 5 months. Currently configuring the hotkeys.|
|Surprisingly psychedelic scene in||April 14, 2016, 11:15 am|
I'm not into super hero movies, nor do I have any context for this scene, so we'll not go into those aspects of the subject. Anyway, at the 40 second mark, I began to remember various psychedelic trips, which was very much like something in real life reminding you of a recent dream. Scott is shot like a cannon into a nebulous, massive (to him) world, which is very much in the vain of the onset of DMT's "firing off into hyperspace" feeling. There's an enormous amount of information unfolding and expanding in geometric formations, which to me feels like "drug laced imagery," even though this is actually a pretty accurate representation of the molecular world.
Things get briefly corny when the cartoonish depiction of an individual atom is shown, but right after, at 1:23, there is a brief flash and a closeup of Scott's helmet reveals that extra dimensions of reality are being projected outward, as though he has reached the subatomic level at which those dimensions become "visible." This is exactly what the "fanning out" effect of mushrooms and DMT looks like, right down to the way it sort of unfolds like it had been hiding in the background the entire time.
Around 1:38, higher dimensional polyhedrons begin to rotate and morph, and again, this is very trip-accurate looking stuff, and at the climax, around 1:45, there is a very interesting hyper-dimensional formation that seems to resemble the fractal architecture and beings that tend to inhabit DMT- and Shroom-land.
There have been several Adult Swim bumpers that accurately recreate some of the effects of DMT, but I have never seen a scene in a mainstream Hollywood film in which some of the more confusing aspects of the experience were visualized very well. I strongly doubt there were a bunch of trippers working the CG here, but I imagine that whatever advice they received from conversing with physicists on what the Planck scale might look like, has a possibly intimate correlation to the geometric tendencies of trips.
|Autism/Asperger thread!||April 14, 2016, 6:23 am|
|I am diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome (Which is apparently sometimes known as Mild Autism nowadays I think.) It's a probable reason why I act strange sometimes. If anyone have any questions about the condition, feel free to ask. Feel free to share your experiences or tips about it. I did write a longer post but got logged out of my account before managing to post it somehow and I'm to lazy to write it all down again. Sorry for that.|
|Let go..||April 13, 2016, 7:19 pm|
|I was let go today. I work where I live, so... I need a place to crash for awhile. Can I stay at your place, please?|
|My ancestry||April 12, 2016, 2:02 am|
After waiting for 2 months, my 23 and me results have finally arrived. Here are my ancestry results:
|Visiting the Doctor Friday.||April 11, 2016, 8:43 pm|
Excuse any weird formatting, I actually posted this exact same thing on an ADHD subreddit to vent and seek some advice. This is just to vent because this is a community that I enjoy.
I'm 19 years old. Throughout my entire life, focusing on a single task for more than a few minutes has been incredibly difficult. Sitting down to write this post in an complete and well-thought-out way is a struggle. (edit: Thinking about it, this could explain my often less-than-contributional posting) My mind has a constant fog over it at nearly all times, and my thoughts are mindless, jumping from one random idea to another, very rarely linear and coherent. Getting through High School was a miracle for me, I had to take online classes to make up failed credits. I'm now in College with an extremely easy schedule and I'm still not doing very well due to my forgetfulness and lack of mindfulness.
Once in a blue moon, the veil is lifted and I am able to focus on a task such as studying -- and when it happens it's not a matter of "just do it even though it sucks" -- the task of sitting down and working is one of the greatest feelings in the world.
Because of this, important tasks that I need to get done, and want to get done, sit and pile up in the background while I sit, not doing something that I'd rather be doing, but doing "nothing in particular". Not only are necessary tasks affected, so are things that I enjoy. I can't sit and watch a documentary or read a book, even an interesting one, without my thoughts wandering. If I manage to finish doing either one, I come out not with a store of new knowledge, but an assortment of random facts I just happened to absorb that are of little to no actual use to me.
My self-esteem is often times through the floor because the way my life has consistently folded out, with my promises to myself every other week to "get my life together for real this time" never following through, something that hurts not just myself but others as well -- something that compounds even further since I tend to sugar coat things avoid talking to people at all when things aren't going as planned.
I never considered that it might be something that goes beyond pure self-discipline and willpower until recently when I began to gather some bits of information on ADD.
I'm going to be visiting a doctor friday to see if my symptoms match up with a diagnosis. Friday can't come soon enough. Hopefully it will set me on the path to "getting my life together for real this time". I firmly believe that I am capable of doing good things with my life, but there's an invisible barrier that must be broken down first, and it's become abundantly clear over the years that it's not a barrier I can break down on my own.
|The Hidden Elder God Evil of Goatheads||April 8, 2016, 6:43 pm|
Goatheads. A name that brings both fear and disdain to many a human being that cares to step outside, most notably with bare feet (like a hippy). Or those that ride bikes... so basically just hippies. It is a wretched and wrathful seed, one forged in the image of baphomet himself:
The ungodly creations are infamous for their tendancy to shank the fuck out of whatever crosses them. They are designed to litteraly fucking stab you and stay stuck in you like a parasite, like the fucking T-Virus Las Palagas in a vain hope to spread its corruption a measly 3-5 feet as you flee in pain after its assault. Not even your houses are safe, the goatheads can implant themselves to the bottom of your shoes like chestbursters waiting to strike, and jostle loose inside your house, so now you can get injected with dirty plant horn tetinus in the comfort of your own home.
The icon of sin is not a wall, it is not a towering goliath. The icon of sin is an insidious, cunning foe. One that hides beneath your very feet. The icon of sin is not a mere concept. The icon of sin is real, and it is the goathead.