That was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.
    I thought I was going to hurl.
    I need to lie down.

        Gentle, sensitive readers of my blog...
I have come across a file. It is over 500 megabytes and over an hour long. It was hard to find, but it was found never the less. If you have traversed through Something Awful you may have read the article, and if you are one of the many forum goons which contribute regularly to the site you may have seen the creation of this file transpire.

The file I'm speaking (typing) of is SWAP.AVI.  

    You may not know what this is, so I will give a brief description:
SWAP.AVI is sheer and utter evil and madness incarnate. It destroys souls and twists minds; many believe it causes permanent damage that cannot be realized until over a decade has passed. I have yet to view it entirely, and thankfully I haven't eaten lunch yet. I ask the reader to think of the infamous "2 Girls 1 Cup", however, this beast has 3 girls, and no cup. I ask the reader to ponder this.

    I plan on exposing this to as many people as I can, to overshadow 2G1C and leave my mark on the Internet (though I'm not responsible for its creation, I intend to distribute it). I do not recommend this to ANYONE, even though I plan to get people to watch it.

    As I burn this abomination onto a disk, I wonder to myself "Why?"
    Because I have nothing better to do, of course.

Visit this link for the full story; The Horrible Saga of SWAP.AVI:

http://www.somethingawful.com/d/horrors-of-porn/horrible-saga-swapavi.php

Sorry, world ;P

    Valentine's Day has been making me want to start looking for a g/f, I've been single for a while and I'm ready for something new; if you're interested - msg me ^_^

    If you're keeping score then you're bound to win,
A birds eye view of a burning bridge,
You've gone through ghost towns settle past,
Hoping the risk was worth a cause,

Oh, sound off the false alarm,

But i'll make my own colleague from wood and from ivory,
And reap the rewards of proximity,
I'll assemble my equal from what I lack and require,
And gather what's left unaccompanied,

It smells like disaster,
It looks like a trap,
So go by the wayside,
And never look back,

If you could spare me forty winks,
While you cry wolf and I count sheep,
What good old ghosts in Kevlar vests,
With backbones like a jellyfish,

Oh, stomp on your land again,

But i'll make my own colleague from wood and from ivory,
And reap the rewards of proximity,
I'll assemble my equal from what I lack and require,
And gather what's left unaccompanied,

It smells like disaster,
It looks like a trap,
So go by the wayside,
And never look back,

If you are keeping score then you are bound to win,
A ring side seat at the main event,
Oh, stomp on your land again,

It smells like disaster,
It looks like a trap,
So go by the wayside,
And never look back.

    Rory Fullwood     11/1/2007    D Block    Short Story – Final Copy


    The walk from the university was a cold one. A long, drawn out path through the woods cut the time it would take to drive in half. It was very unprofessional, but with his salary he didn't care about the faculty's opinion of him. It was dusk, and the orange sunlight from the dying horizon illuminated the colorful trees that look best in the fall. 'I wonder what Lucy's cooking tonight' he pondered. Lucy was his wife, whom he had married 3 years ago. She is a few years younger than the professor, and she has the same emotional frailty as other girls much younger than her possess.

    The professor is a frugal man. He rarely indulges in recreational goods and even more rarely buys things for Lucy. Though he is a gentle man, a kind of coldness follows his demeanor. What the professor hated more than excessive spending were children. He despised having to deal with freshman students and even more just going to the park makes him restless. His love of solidarity and order is disrupted by children, so he naturally avoids them at whatever cost. While his wife is younger than him, her age does not show around the professor. Lucy is normally cheerful and contains a bright inner light, but around the professor a cool indignation rises from her. And while she seems to be an obedient wife, there is something she keeps hidden from others. This bitter aura had arisen after a fight she had with the professor over having children. Naturally the professor had won the argument, and Lucy's dream of giving birth to a child to love and care for was crushed. Since the fight, there is hollowness in her voice.

    As the professor reached his street, he began to pick up the pace. He was looking forward to dinner more and more, Lucy has a certain flair in the kitchen, and never ceases to amaze him with her culinary skills. The professor felt a pang of guilt over his wife; the things she had done to her made him feel progressively worse by the day, but he felt powerless to put a halt to his feelings of shame. He decided to buy her a dozen roses the next day after work and ask for her forgiveness. He would love nothing more than to be with Lucy for the rest of his life, without children of course.

    After a few short minutes, he stood in front of his home. As his eyes briefly ran over the windows and front door, he felt a sudden sense of dread. He felt a cold, icy thing in his gut, and something inside of the professor told him to leave immediately. His body was consumed by a groundless terror; reason was pushed out of his mind by fear of things that cannot be understood. After a few moments he shook off this feeling and approached the front door. "There isn't anything to be afraid of" he muttered to himself. What is there to dread? Behind the door were his belongings and his wife, no specters or horrors of cyclopean proportions unknown to mankind. Though he tried to support reason, he did feel dread in his heart, and he was indeed very afraid.

    He unlocked the door – the click of the lock echoed as if it was foreshadowing something. The professor dismissed this and opened the door. As he passed the threshold nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The air was still and quiet, it made him uncomfortable, so at a half-yell he said "I'm home!" to break the silence. No response came, nothing stirred within the house. Before he could continue, out of the corner of his eye he spotted a dull brown photo album on the coffee table.

    He had never seen the photo album before, and the professor had a feeling that it was left out just for him. He approached the table and cautiously opened the album. The first picture was from when he and Lucy had begun dating. They were noticeably younger and happier looking. As he turned the pages there were more pictures of them, at the beach, in the woods, and in front of the home they reside in today. When he reached the last picture, something caught in his throat and turned his stomach into a ball of lead. It was a picture of the professor with one of his younger students.

    The professor dropped the book and tore around the house looking for Lucy. "Lucy!" he cried while running up the stairs, praying for a response and dreading one at the same time. When he reached the main bedroom, he saw that the door was ajar and ran inside. There was a large canvas bag on the bed, tied at the opening with a length of thick rope. He could not distinguish the color, because it was caked with blood and dirt and other substances that made him feel the need to vomit. Blood covered the bed and the floor around it, and it looked as if it had begun to dry. He saw movement next to the bed; it was Lucy sitting on the floor with her head down and her hair obscuring her visage. The professor could not speak or move, he was paralyzed by pure fear. Her head began to rise slowly, and her hair began to part as she slowly showed her face. When she had fully gazed into his eyes, into his soul, the professor screamed. The bag began to move and slowly open…Lucy smiled.


~THE END~

    
   
 

   
It's a cold and windy day
Heaven's grey instead of pure white and blue
I love days like this, the heavens seem as flawed as us
Our world feels just as human as we are.
Standing in an empty field with that overcast weather and powerful wind
makes me feel like another point on the globe, a semiconductor for the earth's energy

Descent is a gorgeous thing because the only thing you can see is the sky.
People keep there heads looking towards heaven, hoping things will be better.
Unfortunately they can't see where they are walking.
For whatever reason, I love walking with my head down, looking at the ground.
Darkness is under you, velvet nighttime like a mink coat.
If you can sin, you can embrace it here and there.
The less familiar you are with the taste of sin, the more you crave it and covet it.
I think being seasoned in the darkness and the light within us makes us understand ourselves more.
Maybe if I look deep enough within myself I'll find a mirror.
When looking out - always look in. 


~Pain~

Hmmm.
It's good in a way.
We need to be reminded here and there that we are mortal, average people.
Just because you have controll over a good part of your present conciousness doesn't raise your status in this world.
All of the starving people you see on television, the beggars, the massacred, famined and downtrodden...
They think just as much as we do.
And they can feel as much as you can, If most of us can even begin to imagine it.
Try to, it humbles you.
If you can understand pain, you are a step closer to understanding your own race.

It's sad.
Our very existence causes others pain.
A good amount of the pain in this world is because when people are hurt, they hurt back.
They don't just hurt the one who harmed them, they harm everyone by association with him.
It's an endless wheel of anger, sadness, and violence.

Who knows?
I don't.
I contradict myself so often I don't even notice it.
Even if my thoughts are wrong, voicing them can help shape some truth instead of fabrication.
Disagree if you want, but remember - they are my thoughts, not yours!
Accepting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.
A long and luxurious release can be like chicken noodle soup.
Marvel and love the depth of perception; because tomorrow you may not ever be able to.

Love all things, even pain and sadness.
They will love you back.


Profound truth seems a little overdone.
Isn't finding an answer inside of yourself much more rewarding than someone telling you what the proper answer is?
Insanity isn't too insane - some people just have different perceptions of things.
I don't try to imaging heaven or hell, I don't want either of them to exist really.
For some reason, a part of me loves pain and confusion and sadness - I feel a little sordid when I think about that.

Isn't perception amazing?
Too bad though, when you think about it.
We only have 5 senses to really begin to understand a flower or a cat, being limited to only 5 senses inhibits us from fully understanding the world. It's a relief that we can at least explore ourselves - we're a universe of our own. It's hilarious how we're just made of meat and fluids, we're so full of ourselves even though we're no better than any other living thing.

Woooow, kinda dragged out a bit. Sorry.

    How's it going everyone? I haven't written in a while, just didnt feel like it i guess :P. Hmm. I'll be 18 in a couple of days, that will be pretty sweet. Um, single - as always lol. It doesn't bug me as much, but it still pokes at my ass here and there. Got a sweet Kangol hat, now I look about 40% more Irish in it :P. Oh, when I turn 18 I'm getting some piercings, I'm open to suggestions (no prince alberts though). Hmm, I'm doing well aside from the whole g/f thing; having one would be good. Wow, I have to stop talking about that lol. Um, it's early, im tired, im going to Mitsua today, so that will rock pretty hard. So that's all. No whining or insights or complaining. Just letting you guys know im alive XD.

kizukanai furi o shite

chiisana mado kara tooku o mitsumeteta

sora ni hirogaru tenshi no koe

kaze ni dakarete

I pretended not to notice

And stared far out the small window

The angel's voice spreading in the sky

Was embraced by the wind

hitomi ni utsuru zawameki wa nannimo kikoenakute

tada ima wa "amai toki no itazura da" to

sora ni tsubuyaita

The commotion reflected in your eyes can't hear anything

Only now I murmured "It was a trick from when I was naïve"

Into the sky

mawaru, mawaru... okizari ni sareta jikan no naka de watashi wa ima

les misérables

aishisugita anata ga kabe kiwa no mukou de

sotto waratteru

Turn, turn... Inside of the time that left me behind I am, now,

les misérables

You who I loved too much are on the other side of the wall

Softly smiling

todokanai kono omoi dake... toiki ni nosete

Only this feeling that cannot be fulfilled... it's filled into sighs

tsumetai kaze o abinagara

kurikaesu yoru ni omoi o egaiteta

sotto kuchizusamu merodi wa

jikan ni kizamarete kieru

nido to modorenai kanashimi wa wasurerarenakute

ima mo yureru omoi ni somaru koto dekinai karada ga

kowaresoude...

While blasted by the cold wind

I relived my memories in the returning night

The melody I softly sing to myself

Is carved away by time until it vanishes

I can't forget the sadness that I cannot return to

Even now, my body that cannot taint the flickering emotions

Seems to break down

hitokiri no kanashimi wa doko ni yukeba kieru

"wa ta si ni     a su wa     a ru no..."

Where can I go to make my loneliness vanish (1)

"I al ways     have     to mor row..."

mawaru, mawaru... okizari ni sareta jikan no naka de watashi wa ima

les misérables

aishisugita anata ga kabekiwa no mukou de

sotto waratteru

Turn, turn... Inside of the time that left me behind I am, now,

les misérables

You who I loved too much are on the other side of the wall

Softly smiling

fukaku fukaku ochiteiku wasurekaketa yume no naka de watashi wa ima

les misérables

aishisugita anata ga kabekiwa no mukou de

sotto waratteru

Deeply, deeply falling inside of the dream that I only started to forget I am, now,

les misérables

You who I loved too much are on the other side of the wall

Softly smiling

todokanai kono omoi dake... toiki ni nosete

Only this feeling that cannot be fulfilled... it's filled into sighs

Fair To Midland - Dance of the Manatee



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