Who are we to call him mentally ill? Perhaps we are the deranged ones here. After all, he's happy, while others are getting worked up over it. While personally, I wouldn't do anything like what he is doing, I respect his right to do as he wishes. The world needs more quirky people. They make life interesting.
Remember too that presumably she's in the same boat as you, and trying not to screw up too badly. If you two hang out together and try to have a good time, it'll work out better than if you try to win her fair hand in marriage at first date.
I remember you. You were in the Death Note game, IIRC. Welcome back. Feel free to join in the DN game again. It recently revived, you see. A good way to try to reintegrate yourself into the community is with Voxli. If you want to chat, feel free to PM me or hit my up on MSN or whatever.
Sound like my friends. My mother, on the other hand, is insistent that online friends aren't real friends, etcetera. Suddenly my interest is piqued. I must see this. Show me.
Hoh? Where does it say that, may I ask?
If I were to view this positively, I'd see it as an acknowledgement of a problem, and a resolution to resolve it, another step on the road towards equal rights for everyone. If I were to view it cynically, I would, quite frankly, ask what this has done. It doesn't change anything for the people in those countries; it just allows the members of the U.N. to pat themselves on the back in a show of slactivism. Now it may evolve further in time, but currently, it means very little.
You have friends, you do daily activities, you're not bullied in school, there are no domestic disputes, etc? Nothing major in your daily life to make you unhappy?
Personally, I'd think a rose would be out of place at a movie cinema, especially on a first date. Roses are fairly old-fashioned, so while they may be appropriate for more formal situations, such as a school prom, to take them to a casual date at a movie theatre may be going a tad too far. I'd suggest that you stop thinking of this as an exam or a trial, and instead think of it as something to have fun at. If you do your best to have fun, it'll be a better experience for both of you, even if it doesn't go anywhere afterwards.
To take a more cynical/cautious viewpoint of the situation, she's testing your judgement in movies, be it consciously or subconsciously. You now have the job of picking something that she'll like without her telling you what she wants. The test is whether you know her well enough to please her without being prompted. That said, I'm intentionally over-thinking this here. It'll be fine, so long as you choose something relatively entertaining. If you have to, just choose something extremely generic and ridiculously mainstream, so as not to negatively impact your character in her eyes.
You’ve probably heard the tales of quests on whence many embark, but few return. However, you only ever hear of those who have been successful. In this regard, the tale of KH2Man13 was a peculiarity, as his was one of those rare tales which was not slated for success, but for failure. His was the sort of quest that demonstrated how virtually impossible the quest in question was, thus making it possible for a true hero to embark on it later, safe in the knowledge that it was a true hero's challenge. By being one of the ones who didn’t make it, by failing in his own quest, he helped to create the legend of an all-but-impossible mission for a later hero to deal with. Of course at the time he didn’t realise it; he’d just decided to go out adventuring for a bit of fun. He just wanted to check out some long forgotten caves and stuff without any trouble, or dragons. He especially hated dragons. When he set out, he didn’t realise all the obstacles he’d have to face in the stead of the future hero. All the booby traps, perilous situations and near-fatal scenarios made his chances of surivival drop to 1/1000. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't his lucky year. He didn’t make it back from the cave, and in the same gesture, proved that the various traps weren’t just for show, and were to be quite a challenge to heroes coming after him. Thanks to his noble actions and sacrifices, he transformed the mundane task of exploring underground tunnels into a popular sport among heroes. Doesn't change that he died at Thursday, 16 June 2011 at 16:04. Oh gog, I am so tired. I swear I blacked out a few times while editing that piece. I also made sure to tell the Dean to please not hold any typos against me. Now I'm rambling and I have no idea what I'm on about. I started talking about school just then, completely unintentionally. I am going to sleep now.
It helps to take a step back from life and realise that very little actually matters in the long run. Instead of always worrying about what has happened, is happening or will happen, just try to enjoy life for what it is. It's a roller-coaster of experiences, and almost all of them are worth having. Don't think of life as something to be endured; instead, think of it as something to be enjoyed. It may help to try to get a sense of purpose and activity instilled in you. Those tend to help lessen depression. Add some structure to your life by waking up at a certain time and getting some exercise, be it a run, a stroll, walking the dog, playing a sport or whatever. Exercise releases endorphins, which are a natural cause of elation. Getting the necessary eight or nine hours sleep also helps. I often find that after going through a day on four hours sleep, I'll feel very downhearted and depressed around 3/4 through the day, even though I logically know that there was nothing bad that happened. Sleeping in for hours doesn't help though. It just makes you lethargic and lazy. Not particularly good states for someone depressed, as they lead to unoccupied, wandering minds. Do you have any ideas why you're actually depressed? Maybe we can help with the source?
As far as I'm aware, 'going on a diet' is when you make a conscious effort to alter what sorts of foods you consume. You're not necessarily on a diet if you happen to be drinking more water; a more likely conclusion is that circumstances dictate that you prefer water currently. Perhaps you require more due to an increased need for hydration. Soda is less effective than water in that regard, and tea is impractical to drink on a larger scale. It's only natural that you'd begin to drink ordinary water. If you wanted to, you could turn this subconscious change into a conscious diet by altering other parts of your daily intake of food alongside it. By no means should you try to stop drinking water. There are no downsides to it, unless you drink to extreme excess. My advice is to buy a nice drink bottle, and use it. Don't buy a new bottle each time. That'll just kill your wallet. (And paying for water seems to be ridiculous to me.)
;_;
Hey 'sup .
Good news: I uploaded another one. This time I'm discussing the art of pashing.
Second recording finished. http://www.megaupload.com/?d=7CHS75QG
As you wish~ Spoiler The Death of Old Misery The clock ticked, ticked, ticked. The sound of children’s laughter from beyond the distant windows reounded in his ears, reminding him of years long passed. He strained to hear more, focusing his failing senses onto the window, as though staring at the light peaking through his curtains could allow him to hear the voices with more clarity; but he did hear them! The joyful cries of reality awakened old memories, and once again he was a father, sitting on the porch, letting the sounds of his children’s play wash over him. He could even feel the summer breeze against a backdrop of cicada cries. The afternoon came. Twenty four times over three hours, the grandfather clock groaned its morose message, but ultimately it was the demanding rumble of his own stomach that roused Old Misery from his lethargic reminiscence. He blinked in surprise; the children had long returned to their homes, but only now were the echoes of their voices fading from his ears. What’s more, he began to become aware of a strange, foreign longing in the pit of his stomach, which he already knew would not be sated by the pathetic scraps of food lying in his cupboard. He didn’t understand. This wasn’t his usual self at all. He’d decided long ago: he didn’t need people. They just weren’t worth the effort, he thought with a grimace, as though there were a foul tasting poison in his mouth. They always left him, be it his wife, bless her soul, or his children, all grown up and living in the next town over. “Although they may as well be in Papua New Guinea , considering how often they visit meâ€, Old Misery would have complained to his friends, if he had had any. Instead, he had his house. Unlike his wife, it had resolutely withstood the war. Even when the Hun blitzed the streets, reducing the other houses to rubble, it stood proud among the desolation, always willing to provide shelter. Yet unlike his wretched children, it did not run off and leave him for some brazen lady-house! He gave a hollow chuckle at the sheer absurdity of the idea. Shaking his head to clear it of such foolish notions, Old Misery rose from the faded fabric of his antique chair to make his way towards the kitchen. Suddenly, he fell back, cowered. The prospect of venturing away from the window, further into the house, which had served him so faithfully all those years, was positively terrifying. Old Misery looked around for support desperately, seized by a sudden panic. To his dismay, his usual allies were nowhere to be seen. The grandfather clock, who had chattered to him on many a Sunday afternoon, was no longer in its usual corner. Instead, a lumbering behemoth leered at him, a deep, creaking growl escaping between the loud TOCK of its inhales. Frantic, he glanced back and forth, looking for someone, anyone, to save him. No matter where he directed his gaze, no saviour arose. He was to be smothered in his seat and die a lonely death. He could feel the abomination drawing closer, its pendulum swinging rhythmically like a scythe. Unable to move, he could do nothing except feel confused and dithery and old as the creature lumbered closer, its decrepit breath evoking impossible memories of a desolate shore, a lone boatman beckoning him from the gloom and chill, inviting him to step onto the boat, to descend into the depths of the underground hollow. Then a sound cut through the madness; a steady, rhythmic thud from the garden reverberated around the house. Struggling to his feet, he staggered to the window, and with all the strength remaining in his world-weary arms, forced it open. The wind entered at once, barraging his face, sweeping the daemons from his home. The roar of the ocean, the sound of wood folding, and then the boatman was erased with the cave. A hideous scream, then the monster in the corner was no longer there; it was merely an ordinary grandfather clock, as it had always been. It did not growl or speak; it only ticked, tocked and chimed on the hour. His attention was elsewhere, his house out of his mind. Outside, he strained his neck to see the source of the noise. There, in the abandoned car-park, he saw his saviours: a group of boys, barely in their teens, bouncing a ball against the side of his house, characteristically oblivious to the results of their actions, as only the young are. Unaware his face had been clenched, the old man’s features finally relaxed. A warm smile spread across Mr. Thomas’ face as he watched the children of a future generation go about their business on a Friday afternoon. -fin
Upon returning to the main HQ common room after a prank call involving a spaghetti pizza and suspiciously powdery 'coca cola', which the delivery 8oy only referred to as 'coke', the team made a fearful discovery. CherryBerry's distinctively fingernail-painted right hand, superglued so that it was clasping the handle of the door, still dripping fresh 8lood. After drawing lots to see who would get the 8ad luck of removing the hand and opening the door, the door mysteriously swung open of its own accord, despite 8eing thoroughly locked moments earlier. Venturing through the doorframe, the detectives found her left hand attached in the same way to the other side. 8ut their horror at that quickly a8ided, and was replaced 8y something far more sinister when they saw the condition of the room. For one, the luxury sofa suite was thoroughly ruined 8y the 8lood. Slightly more worrying was the st8 of the carpet. Cherry's dismem8ered lim8s dripped pools of 8lood onto the floor, staining it a deep red. Second place for most distur8ing would have to go to the cooled-water dispenser, in which Cherry's half-collapsed, decapit8ed head floated eerily in the now-pink liquid. First place for most distur8ing was unanimously decided to 8e the walls, upon which the following message was inscri8ed: 'I hate you, You hate me, Lets all go and kill Cherry. With a big chainsaw, And a blow to the head, Sorry kids but Cherry’s dead.' Also of note were the almost-inconsequential things found after the detectives had tallied their votes on distur8ing factors, such as the TV 8eing set to the kids channel, entrails wrapped around the lampshades, torso lying in the sink or the large chainsaw found in the dishwasher. ToD: Thursday, 16 June 2011 at 09:25
Any chance of coaxing you into picking up Homestuck too? ::::D
1. Impressions of 8eforehand contrasted with impressions of me now? 2. If you were a furry, what sort of animal would your fursuit 8e, and which colour would you take? 3. What happens if you dig a hole through the centre of the Earth and jump through? 4. What have you always wanted to microwave? 5. Do you play as white or 8lack on a chessboard? 7. Plank of Carneades. What do you do? 8. Are you pregnant with Christhor's 8a8y? 9. What would you do as admin for a day? 10. Favourite sentence from 120 Days of Sodom? 11. Will the mods delete my question if I do this?
