I am hated
I am despised
I am hunted
It is all my fault
All your pain and your hate
For giving you water
in this barren land of waste
For showing you shade
As the sun burned you back
For helping you change
And to gain what you lack
I've offered you life
And you've chosen your death
You hate me. You hate me.
I'm me, so you hate me.
I was good to you, so you blame me
That the world isn't like me
You hate me because I'm not like you want
When you had accepted your pain
I brought you along
To this place where for the first time in so long
You've actually been happy. Not a face
not a mask, not a lie, not an act
Not the falsehood you had grown to depend on
But the truth, and you saw how your pain hurt
But you left and you claim that it's my fault
Now you know there is something better
And now you have thrown it away
And now you aren't happy in your gutter
and you need someone else you can blame
Someone wronged you, and that's sad
indeed, lamentable enough,
but for you to then say that I made it?
When it's either you or he who brought pain.
Maybe you're right. Maybe I am mean and evil
Maybe I was just taunting you with lies.
I have given food to the hungry, so hate me.
I have offered relief to the pained
I have comforted sickly, unhappy, and grisly
so yes, for this I'm to blame.
But the thirsty have water and hesitate to drink it
fearful of the dangers of trust
But some of them yet dare to find that it's clean
and it's pointless to mention the rest
Those who dared now go out and remembered clean water
But in truth, have forgotten what it looks like
So they guess for another place for their supply
And are wronged because they though it was healthy
When in fact they were full, they were filled
I had already given them water
But their greed sends them further, and ill has remembered
that gluttony is level with traitors
Positions of Authority.... I like the way my plans are going so far.... I am going to switch over to an established game engine, probably Unreal Tournament.
EUREKA! I HAVE FOUND IT!
Note to self: Next time I can't find or get rid of some annoying fuzz, check the peak meters. The annoying fuzz that we've had for like the past 4 or 5 weeks came from the unactive wireless mic picking up the speakers. Why it was on, i dunno, but that's where it all came from. So, now that I have turned that off, everything is all better now. Which is very encouraging. :D
OK. i might end up using this diary here less for literary or even individual purposes, but merely for exploratory purposes.
Firstly, I need to come up with a much easier way to control my objects. I think new and linked lists would help with the polygon draw function, each with a list of links to draw between. of course, once I've done that, i have NO idea how i would map a skin onto it.
meanwhile, however, i should at least be able to do this wireframed. i really should. perhaps a link would do it. have, say, a hand object, a forearm object, elbow object, bicep object, and shoulder object, rendering the need for at least 4 points, but probably 5. At each point link to an object and then move to the next point, allowing the points to handle movement and the objects to handle the real visuals. so that they can draw themselves. but how could I link like that?
Dude, this week won't end! It's still Friday! It was Friday before! It was friday this morning! And that was forever ago!
Now, I have all this homework to do. Arg.
And she's gonna be angry if I don't mention her, so I'll mention that I enjoyed playing for her today.
yesterday, I got my nohemi her build a bear. It was actually a lot of fun, surprisingly. It was a weird fun. Like... i dunno, but I enjoyed making it for her. And I know she is going to love it sooo verymuch when she gets it... *proud!*
Me = Meg
You = Deg/Du
You = Dere
Us = Oss
We = Vi
Him = Han
Her = Henne
It = Det
forskjell = Difference
forskjellig = Different
forskjellen = the difference
forskjellene = the differences
It's over. All of it. Forever. Dead and gone. That isn't cool. I have lost everything that I am, or rather, everything that once was. So now, I am not who I was. But, if I am not him, who am I now? I don't even know me anymore. I have no credibility. I have.... I have.... nothing.
And another possible location for my Nohemi. Damn, the things I do for that woman.
Hollywood and Highland
6801 Hollywood Blvd. Suite 200
Hollywood, CA, 90028
Telephone:
(323)461-6105
Fax:
(323)461-6197
Hours:
Sunday to Thursday 10am to 7pm
Friday and Saturday 10am to 10pm
Nope. Still don't feel like it.
YES!!! I just found my famous CAHSEE essay! I will put it in here sometime soon.
Learning Norwegian:
er = is
vakker = beautiful
Filurkatten = Chershire Cat
katten = cat
hei = hello
mitt = my
navn = name
god natt = good night
god = good
natt = night
(Learned from [Evakulator])
I think I'm gonna do something. Something drastic. These are drastic times, and they call for drastic measures. I will destroy my school. Not literally, of course. I do not mean to take a bag of molotov's to school and leave a federally offensive fellon. I intend to destroy my school politically.
My principal is an incompetent cow-whore, to say the least. I got to school at 4:30 this morning, so as to sign up for the intersession class of my choice without any problem. I stood for 4 hours. And I still didn't get my classes. They started a weird system using tickets to allow you in the line, and the tickets were given in another line. These tickets were given out at the back of the line. This means that my friend who got there at 6:30 got all his classes. And I did not. I am quite perturbed by all of this.
I plan to make a student union. Because I am not alone in my plight. The school has been threatened by the state to improve its Stanford 9 test scores, or whatever they call it now; it's still the same test. Regardless, my friends and I are the schools saviors. If we decide to bomb the test, the school will get comandeered by the state. That is probably the best way for that school anyway.
Stupid school. They need to stop treating it as an administration
Wherefore whence the willow came
now leaves, its branches hanging there
Though each denied it's right to name
Still whispers soft through christened air
And here, echos of voices past
do tell the tale and end to yet
The one and other, both the last
the like to each, and neither dead
But live! As living can be more
A loss than gain, so can it give
More than it takes, now keeps in store
The most it has, because it lives.
And in the darkness, far away
From loft, and light, it drifts and shies
From fro and to, and moves to stay
Three back and fourth, to gain the prize
In this dark there does reside
a spritely nymph to raise a mischeif
Disguised in cloth that here confined
Does not haste to speak of grief
That is felt, forever secret
Held evermore so deep inside
In vain hopes to fend off hatred
and keep it safe from prying eyes.