A break of tradition

To any that have visited this page before, you'll have noticed my running theme of posting an image of a cute character at the end of each entry. Today will be an exception, and I'm sure you'll understand why.

As my first post to this journal was made, I was grieving the loss of my dog, Reina. We called her Puppy, because we were lazy and she didn't seem to mind. She was 13 years old and was as loyal a dog as I had ever known. I raised her, along with my family, from a puppy to the wonderful dog that she was at her death. She was the first dog I had ever owned long enough to have die of natural causes. Not that any other dog I've owned died any other way. My parents usually didn't like them at the time, and I was too young to argue with them. Nevertheless, Reina was my first 'full-term' dog. She'll be missed.

Now, as Reina was dealt with in the first post, I'm sad to say that I'm again mourning the loss of a dog. This one Butters (Whom we called Piggy because his little snout caused him to snort like a pig when he sniffed around), died far too young. He was no more than 5 years old, but died of the same disease that got Reina. And while Reina's death wasn't really a shock to me, due to her age and the gradual onset of whatever illness it was, I was expecting it. With Piggy, it was more sudden. I went out to feed him, and he had gone to sleep under a swing in the yard, and never woke up.

As I buried him, I couldn't help but feel guilt. Like, maybe I could have done something. Maybe I should have come outside and played with him more. Maybe I should've done more in the yard so that he could follow behind me stupidly. With Reina, I had done all that. We played, walked, wrestled, relaxed... but with Piggy, I dunno.. He was technically my mom's dog, but I tend to become pretty connected to most animals I come in contact with. Due to that, I feel responsible, and I just want to cry.

I'm gonna miss the stupid little fur ball. And despite being against organized religion, I can only hope that he and Reina are rompin' around in that backyard of an afterlife for dogs.

Rest In Peace Reina ...

Rest In Peace Piggy ...

"So say we all."

I won't lie. I've had a lot to drink tonight. I'm barely managing to stay upright in my chair. It took me half an hour to type all of this.

Honestly, I have no idea what I'm gonna post about. Things lately have been rather.. hectic. With the new position at work, I've been overwhelmed by long hours and loads of work. Granted, the pay is good, and that pay will help me in ways I can't even explain. Of course, it also means I'm away from home more, and because of that, I appreciate even more what I have at home. Absence makes the heart retarded and all that.

I've been playing Aion since its closed beta, and in my opinion, it's better than Warcraft. It could just be the fact that I've played WoW for 5 years and it's gotten stale and Aion is all bright and shiny. On a side note, why is Warcraft not busted by the spell checker but Aion is? It's a conspiracy!

I wasn't kidding about not being able to sit up straight.

No matter how I say this, it's gonna sound strange. I am an admirer of the female form. No matter who, or where, or why, or drunk, I can appreciate a fine female. However, that's discrimination. I can also appreciate a fine male just as much, and I have in the past. But what I'm saying is, if you're hot, you're hot, and I won't deny it. If you're cute, use it as much as you can. If you're me, well, get a job and earn money.

At this point.. I believe I have no idea what I'm saying.

"So say we all."

I'm sick.

Take that how ya will.

This morning I woke up all sniffly and sneezy and stuff. I'm sure I looked horrible after a night of a runny nose and sneezing constantly. It was one of those unpleasant moments where you just feel disoriented and dirty. It was almost like Kanye West was there.

Even now, I'm still sniffly and sneezy. Just took more NyQuil than a human should take in a normal week. I'm sure I'll be KTFO soon. However, this is only partially related to this post. Achoo!

On a seperate note, I've been 'single' for 3 years now. This also means I've been lonely for 3 years now. Any adult can add up where this particular locomotive of mental disaster is going. So, yes, I'll admit that I have a problem. I have a disease of the mind which is kinda like alcoholism. When people drink or do drugs, they say things that they normally wouldn't say. I know this from experience. However, in my case (and I'm sure it happens to more than just me), when that certain feeling of arousal/excitability (is that a word?) gets switched on, I also get that diarrhea of the mouth. Regardless of whether I think I'm in control or not, shit will flow out as soon as I open my mouth.

Luckily for me, my self-loathing keeps me away from females most of the time. Thus, the 'certain feeling' generally never arises in public (No pun intended). So, I'm spared from making embarassing remarks to girls I don't know that well. Of course, the downside is that the remarks get made towards a person or two that doesn't really care to hear it. Which leads me back to square one of ... well, I won't say the name of the game. But yeah. I'm sick in the head.

The last post I made was pretty much an extension of this particular problem. Hell, every post has had some connection to it. Let this be a warning. If you know me, or I know you, be afraid. Thoughts will be had. That is all.

"So say we all."

This post has no purpose...

... other than to jump straight to the 'Attractive Girl of the Post'. I'm bored, and don't really give much of a shit beyond that.

"So say we all."

Meh.

What do you do when you feel so strongly about something and yet you can do nothing about it? How do you keep from going crazy when you can't express the raging torrent of emotion inside of you?

This is one of those moments where all the negativity that I generally repress tends to swirl about in my head. Sometimes I want to lash out and let the puissance of my despite destroy everything that stands before it. There's more than one reason why the internet name Malice Mouser has stuck around as long as it has. Malice is a big part of me, and because of that, things generally don't go well, which breeds more malice. I am like a closed circle in many ways. What I was, I will be again. What I am will pass into what I will be until I become what I am again. I don't care if that sounds logical or not.

Of course, as tempting as expelling the venomous malice sounds, the backlash of such a release would simply create more issues that I dread to face. The outcome is a room hidden behind a closed door. The malice may open the door, yet what lies on the other side is uncertain. Either the light will be on or the room will be dark. The room may be dimly lit, or it may be in complete disarray. It may be vacant or welcoming. Such is the issue with Schrodinger's Cat. You can never know what's going to happen until you do something to force a response.

While this seems to sound logical to me at the moment, my sagacity isn't what I'd like it to be. So, despite the complaints and dark expectations of the future, I remain silent.

"So say we all."

It's been a long time coming.

After escaping from Arkham Asylum, I figured it was time to make a blog post that I had been meaning to make for quite a while. If you're wondering why I haven't made it before now, there are a few reasons why I chose this time. One, I've been drinking. Two, things can only be held back so long. Three, well, I have nothing to lose really.

To those that don't know me, I may seem like an asshole. There's good reason for that. I generally AM an asshole. The reasons for this vary from moment to moment, but the dominating reason is that I have a lot of stuff inside me that I hold back on a daily basis. Because I don't let this festering sore heal, I lash out at people as a minor relief to my own, self-inflicted, pain. I won't unleash all of Hell in this post, but I'll knock out a few of those pesky wraiths that haunt me.

First off, I'm not a racist person, really. I don't hate a particular race because of what they are. I do, however, hate particular GROUPS because of how they behave. However, because of the fact that I'm a whitey, anything that I might speak of would be construed as racist, and thus I am limited in my bitching about how some ghetto ass person in a trailer park was acting like a supreme dick/cunt.

Somewhat related is my complaints against work. I enjoy my job, but my bitching is limited due to the types of people that I work with. Again, this is not a racist comment, as I have complaints about all types of people. I just can't complain because I haven't been around long enough and most people would just as rather toss out a whiner than listen to them, even if the points are valid.

The majority of the demons fighting for dominance of my behavior are related to ..well, relationships, or lack thereof. My particularly pesky phantasms tend to revolve around memories of my ex-wife, and because of the precarious nature of such things, I am under geasato refrain from mentioning any of them aloud. Due to this mental restriction, I am usually in a fairly bitter and cynical frame of mind. At least 3/4 of the things I hold back on a daily basis fall into this category. Of course, even if I were to expel these ghosts from their comfortable residence, there's no guarantee which outcome would have been more preferable. Silence or satisfaction? Well, we'll never know.

For now, back to the Asylum.

"So say we all."

A fun one!

"Guilt is the price we pay willingly for doing what we are going to do anyway."

And that's pretty much dead on. Guilt is one of the more powerful and influential emotions that a person can run across, assuming you're a living, feeling human with a conscience. There are some that have no idea what guilt feels like, and I feel more sorry for them than the people that have to deal with guilt daily.

Guilt can change a person for a myriad of reasons. Guilt can crawl inside a person and lay dormant for any amount of time and then strike when least expected. It's a disease of the soul that can make people do things they wouldn't normally do. Let's explore.

Person A cheats on Person B in a relationship. From here, we can take one of four common paths. Person A confesses and feels guilty, Person A says nothing in lets the guilt eat away at them, Person A says nothing and Person B finds out on their own and then the guilt is that much worse for Person A, or Person A feels no guilt at all and is a heartless fucker that needs to die.

This post borders on the multiverse theory. The actions could be examined any number of ways and those actions lead to others to be examined and so on. I'll keep it simple.

Assuming Person A feels guilt, we'll assume that they said nothing and it lead to them feeling guilty in silence. So, now Person A is going out of their way to 'make it up' to Person B without them knowing what happened. So now Person B is being treated better, getting special gifts and generally feeling better about things. Person A is doing things for Person B that they usually wouldn't, but they know it makes Person B happy, so they do it.

I'm refraining from specifics to make it more accessible to anyone reading this. Also, we'll skip the obvious suspicion that is bound to arise from Person B when Person A starts behaving differently.

The point remains that guilt can turn people, either for good or bad. Think back and wonder how many times you did something (or someone did for you) that was based on feeling guilty. It's amazing how that adds up.

"So say we all."