But he seems like a really cool guy.
Also, I have no idea who Bibic is.
But man, calm your temper! You just don't answer hugs with punches.
Just don't.
I don't give a shit about hockey.
I just like this .gif
Monday, May 21, 2012
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Gaming may not be so primitive.
This fills me with great serenity.
And with memories.
I don't want your Call of Duty.
It's dull. Blank. Empty. Faceless.
This can paint feelings with bright colours.
Please, Ragnar Tornquist, finish up your Secret World MMO, take the money you make, and go spend it on you long planned Dreamfall:Chapters.
It's been since years since Dreamfall.
I'll wait.
Patiently.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
The shadow of the noon.
Oh my, I'm not feeling funky at all.
Poetry time.
Only the light of a torch lights up this place.
A light that struggles to exist every second.
Draught of air coming through the underground,
to put out the only thing that is bright.
No matter, though. Even the slightest shimmering
is not small to reveal what's hidden deep below.
Dark silhouettes of the unknown lurking, crawling.
That they're up to no good, I can see.
Or it's just that we don't understand?
Are they evil? How can that be judged?
The shadows live in a world of their own.
Its their collision with us that makes them feared.
They're forming a ball of souls, entwined together,
until one is kicked out, punished to a life of strangeness.
I can see it cries in fear, desperation, but no anger.
If fact, it is shy, worried what the world will be.
And men fuck it up even more, they couldn't care less.
It's a monster since it was born, they think.
There is no point in defending it.
Both you and it would be ripped to pieces.
And perhaps the time will heal the pain.
Or it won't. Now we can't see.
Great pain may come, but what the reason is?
I hope to be surprised just like it is.
Poetry time.
Only the light of a torch lights up this place.
A light that struggles to exist every second.
Draught of air coming through the underground,
to put out the only thing that is bright.
No matter, though. Even the slightest shimmering
is not small to reveal what's hidden deep below.
Dark silhouettes of the unknown lurking, crawling.
That they're up to no good, I can see.
Or it's just that we don't understand?
Are they evil? How can that be judged?
The shadows live in a world of their own.
Its their collision with us that makes them feared.
They're forming a ball of souls, entwined together,
until one is kicked out, punished to a life of strangeness.
I can see it cries in fear, desperation, but no anger.
If fact, it is shy, worried what the world will be.
And men fuck it up even more, they couldn't care less.
It's a monster since it was born, they think.
There is no point in defending it.
Both you and it would be ripped to pieces.
And perhaps the time will heal the pain.
Or it won't. Now we can't see.
Great pain may come, but what the reason is?
I hope to be surprised just like it is.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Under pressure
I really can work like a bad fucker when I feel a proper amount of stress.
I just wrote a short story in 3 hours. It's 8000 characters. And it even ain't so bad!
It's funny how ideas start coming to you the very second you take hold of your pen, or keyboard. I could think for ages and would have nothing, if I just didn't start writing, not knowing what will come out of it.
Though it doesn't always work. This was my 4th try and a first one that I managed to actually finished. So I have like 3 unfinished short stories lying around on my computer. Great!
I just wrote a short story in 3 hours. It's 8000 characters. And it even ain't so bad!
It's funny how ideas start coming to you the very second you take hold of your pen, or keyboard. I could think for ages and would have nothing, if I just didn't start writing, not knowing what will come out of it.
Though it doesn't always work. This was my 4th try and a first one that I managed to actually finished. So I have like 3 unfinished short stories lying around on my computer. Great!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Talking to myself. In French.
Weird, ain't it?
But I haven't gone crazy. Yet.
It's just that I have oral exams in French tomorrow.
It's serious business.
Wish me luck.
Au revoir, j'espere.
Mais c'est possible qui nous n'allons plus jamais recontrer.
C'est possible l'enseignant me tuera demain.
Ce n'est pas un future bonne, oui?
But I haven't gone crazy. Yet.
It's just that I have oral exams in French tomorrow.
It's serious business.
Wish me luck.
Au revoir, j'espere.
Mais c'est possible qui nous n'allons plus jamais recontrer.
C'est possible l'enseignant me tuera demain.
Ce n'est pas un future bonne, oui?
Do your class bore you?
We were reading a text in my french lesson.
I didn't understand it at all.
I thought it was very atmospheric and cool.
Apparently it was completely about something else then I thought.
But no matter that, I translated the text and edited it a little so it'd be more of a story with certain literary value. Pretty much just messing around with the language and stylistics.
Here it is:
It was in the middle of the night.
The street was deserted and there was no light, not a single lantern to be found.
I couldn't see more than 2 meters ahead of you.
I heard a silent whisper somewhere close to me, but I wasn't able to guess the direction.
Suddenly, the haunting silence of the night was shattered by a tremendous vrooming of a car that appeared out of the darkness before me.
It quickly approached me and soon came into my sight. It blinded me with a flash of its bright headlights. I covered my bleeding eyes -- to avoid being harmed even more.
That's why I couldn't see the driver.
But I felt -- I knew -- that there was a presence of something foul and wicked inside that automobile.
I didn't understand it at all.
I thought it was very atmospheric and cool.
Apparently it was completely about something else then I thought.
But no matter that, I translated the text and edited it a little so it'd be more of a story with certain literary value. Pretty much just messing around with the language and stylistics.
Here it is:
It was in the middle of the night.
The street was deserted and there was no light, not a single lantern to be found.
I couldn't see more than 2 meters ahead of you.
I heard a silent whisper somewhere close to me, but I wasn't able to guess the direction.
Suddenly, the haunting silence of the night was shattered by a tremendous vrooming of a car that appeared out of the darkness before me.
It quickly approached me and soon came into my sight. It blinded me with a flash of its bright headlights. I covered my bleeding eyes -- to avoid being harmed even more.
That's why I couldn't see the driver.
But I felt -- I knew -- that there was a presence of something foul and wicked inside that automobile.
Monday, May 14, 2012
About the new Garbage album
What I love about the new Garbage album is that all over the youtube, in every song off the album comment section, there are people who claim that is the best song on the album.
So fresh after the recent politics of "having more than one single on an album distracts people from the actual top single, so just make one good song and fill the rest with shit".
And me, personally?
It changes literally every while.
One moment I am completely blown away by one song and then, when I listen to another one... shivers down my spine.
But my popular RIGHT NOW has gotta be
So fresh after the recent politics of "having more than one single on an album distracts people from the actual top single, so just make one good song and fill the rest with shit".
And me, personally?
It changes literally every while.
One moment I am completely blown away by one song and then, when I listen to another one... shivers down my spine.
But my popular RIGHT NOW has gotta be
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