Yaaa----- Japanese people really can't help themselves.
Our president of our organization is leaving this Friday to England. We had a dinner...then coffee then said our goodbyes. Even the men cried. Including me (._.)/ ....making close bonds is nice, but is very hard to say goodbye.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
shfkjswjkfdsjf
Goddddd sorry I haven't posted in awhile. School is reaming me and ontop of that SL hasn't been the most fun. Why?
Cause I can't go a day without being guilt tripped by nameless. Its circles..over and over.
---------------------------------
Nameless: even the stupidest dog in the pack will eventually come to realizze that no matter how often, long, fast he tries he is not going to catch what he is after.
i give up... i am not going to try any more... one can take being blown-off only so many times and then he has to just cut and run...
im sorry... i should have realized this a very long time ago...
sorry......
--------------------
And then later
--------------------------
Nameless: (Saved Sun Apr 25 20:47:30 2010) If you think this makes me happy, then you are so very wrong. Every time i see you....
oh fuck it..... it doesnt matter
---------------------------------
Seriously. WHAT do you want me to do? This crap is driving me mad. It makes me want to not sign on SL cause Im confronted with this. What do they want from me?
Want me to quit SL?
Want me to dump Marcal?
FUCKING WHAT!?
Cause I can't go a day without being guilt tripped by nameless. Its circles..over and over.
---------------------------------
Nameless: even the stupidest dog in the pack will eventually come to realizze that no matter how often, long, fast he tries he is not going to catch what he is after.
i give up... i am not going to try any more... one can take being blown-off only so many times and then he has to just cut and run...
im sorry... i should have realized this a very long time ago...
sorry......
--------------------
And then later
--------------------------
Nameless: (Saved Sun Apr 25 20:47:30 2010) If you think this makes me happy, then you are so very wrong. Every time i see you....
oh fuck it..... it doesnt matter
---------------------------------
Seriously. WHAT do you want me to do? This crap is driving me mad. It makes me want to not sign on SL cause Im confronted with this. What do they want from me?
Want me to quit SL?
Want me to dump Marcal?
FUCKING WHAT!?
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Old Life vs New
The following is an old blog post from me in 2004
----------------------------------
"I had the most weird dream. I was being tied down, arms and legs drawn tight with leather bindings. In fact, it was right down kinky. The man was beautiful, the kind you only see in dreams. Tender and at the same time I could feel his nails raking down my bare chest, I could hear his very faint breathing in my ear. It was all so wonderful. His skin was soft, and he was so warm. I wanted to remain there.
Then I could feel a leather strap around my neck, slowly curling around. He was putting a collar on me, clasping it tightly. He leaned down to whisper something to me.
Then I woke up.
Morte was on my chest. My bare chest. His claws were the nails I felt in my dream. His tail that couled around my neck was the bloody collar.
He's officially never running my apartment at night, fucking pervert.
Well, remember how I said I was a bit .. well drinking alot? I went into work anyway like the idiot I am. In result I am job searching this weeked. Thats right folks, I was kicked to the curb. Tonight is the last night I work there befor eI get my paycheck. No matter, the owner doesn't hate me, but rules are rules.
I'll have a job soon, there are plenty of clubs in need of bouncers."
--------------------------------------
The lizard part was funny, I miss my dragon.
The rest..yeah. I couldn't keep a job with my drinking.
----------------------------------
"I had the most weird dream. I was being tied down, arms and legs drawn tight with leather bindings. In fact, it was right down kinky. The man was beautiful, the kind you only see in dreams. Tender and at the same time I could feel his nails raking down my bare chest, I could hear his very faint breathing in my ear. It was all so wonderful. His skin was soft, and he was so warm. I wanted to remain there.
Then I could feel a leather strap around my neck, slowly curling around. He was putting a collar on me, clasping it tightly. He leaned down to whisper something to me.
Then I woke up.
Morte was on my chest. My bare chest. His claws were the nails I felt in my dream. His tail that couled around my neck was the bloody collar.
He's officially never running my apartment at night, fucking pervert.
Well, remember how I said I was a bit .. well drinking alot? I went into work anyway like the idiot I am. In result I am job searching this weeked. Thats right folks, I was kicked to the curb. Tonight is the last night I work there befor eI get my paycheck. No matter, the owner doesn't hate me, but rules are rules.
I'll have a job soon, there are plenty of clubs in need of bouncers."
--------------------------------------
The lizard part was funny, I miss my dragon.
The rest..yeah. I couldn't keep a job with my drinking.
Yoroshiku
No one will read this or follow me..but might as well write as I go. See if anything comes up. I play Second Life, most things I put in here will be related to that.
Right now I realized how much of an asshole I used to be compared to now..I will analyze my blod from years ago...as time goes on to show an example of such.
This is taken from my original journal...its an challenge someone special once told me to do, to describe yourself as third person.
------------------
Always alone, and quiet when among people. He stood, still as stone and eyes glancing at each person.. analyzing before moving to the next. Form tense, always perched against something.. a wall or table. Arms crossed over chest defiantly, and shoulders almost defeatedly slumped. He had dark eyes, one's that had shadows under them, giving of a dark.. 'stay away' stare. Asian features. It usually worked.. people did not approach his lithe form. Only standing of about 5'10.. and ebony hair always a little messy, either in eyes or off to the side; he was hardly threatening looking. Not even strong, but the way he presented himself said different. Scars covered him.. if looked upon closer. Hands, some areas of the arm, all having marks of past fights or trials, and he only brushed them off. They were normal. Most had come to terms that those scars were the ones that hurt the most.
If one was to speak out to him, he would try this best to say little. Either not comfortable, or unfriendly.. dislike the idea of being foolish. Fear maybe.. but it was not outwardly spoken or shown. Just a cold person, showing no care for anything around him, but yet still passionate in anger with harsh, blunt words.. or the quick movements of his form. No one could come to reasonable understanding, and learn to hate him quickly, dislike him right away for his crude words, or harsh glares. A biting tongue.. a bark. They had not realized he had no bite. An inner chamber inside which left him vulnerable.. where his heart was too big to fit in the small chest where it resided, have been waiting to be slashed.. but then drawn back out again. Disguised by other reasoning of his deeds. Misunderstood.. or perhaps clumsy. Incapable of showing kindness through words.. but by subtle actions, and later denying he cared.
Behind a somewhat intellect mind, lie naiveness.. stupidity. Unable to fully express the inner feelings, and ending up saying something completely wrong. An internal battle, only to fail and result another add on to shattering confidence, confided behind a outward and bluff ego. Presented with a stingy stare and a haughty head held high, that is all he will allow himself to account for to strangers, that look from afar.
Right now I realized how much of an asshole I used to be compared to now..I will analyze my blod from years ago...as time goes on to show an example of such.
This is taken from my original journal...its an challenge someone special once told me to do, to describe yourself as third person.
------------------
Always alone, and quiet when among people. He stood, still as stone and eyes glancing at each person.. analyzing before moving to the next. Form tense, always perched against something.. a wall or table. Arms crossed over chest defiantly, and shoulders almost defeatedly slumped. He had dark eyes, one's that had shadows under them, giving of a dark.. 'stay away' stare. Asian features. It usually worked.. people did not approach his lithe form. Only standing of about 5'10.. and ebony hair always a little messy, either in eyes or off to the side; he was hardly threatening looking. Not even strong, but the way he presented himself said different. Scars covered him.. if looked upon closer. Hands, some areas of the arm, all having marks of past fights or trials, and he only brushed them off. They were normal. Most had come to terms that those scars were the ones that hurt the most.
If one was to speak out to him, he would try this best to say little. Either not comfortable, or unfriendly.. dislike the idea of being foolish. Fear maybe.. but it was not outwardly spoken or shown. Just a cold person, showing no care for anything around him, but yet still passionate in anger with harsh, blunt words.. or the quick movements of his form. No one could come to reasonable understanding, and learn to hate him quickly, dislike him right away for his crude words, or harsh glares. A biting tongue.. a bark. They had not realized he had no bite. An inner chamber inside which left him vulnerable.. where his heart was too big to fit in the small chest where it resided, have been waiting to be slashed.. but then drawn back out again. Disguised by other reasoning of his deeds. Misunderstood.. or perhaps clumsy. Incapable of showing kindness through words.. but by subtle actions, and later denying he cared.
Behind a somewhat intellect mind, lie naiveness.. stupidity. Unable to fully express the inner feelings, and ending up saying something completely wrong. An internal battle, only to fail and result another add on to shattering confidence, confided behind a outward and bluff ego. Presented with a stingy stare and a haughty head held high, that is all he will allow himself to account for to strangers, that look from afar.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
