Good afternoon, world
Good afternoon.

It rained, just a little, today. I spent my morning playing - cheating, to be more specific - Age of Empires II: Ages of Kings. Very tough. I miss the invincibility cheat I had for Starcraft.

As a whole, I don't like playing Command and Conquer games, although I must admit that they are better than the 'one man on a quest against many obstacles' game - heck, are those called Role Playing Games? - because what's supposed to be a time to unwind is nothing more than another mental wrench and home for anxiety. I prefer simulation games like Caesar 2 and The Sims. They're not addictive, but they're relaxing enough for a game, and it's nice to feel that you're in control of a city or a group of people.

My mind is blank. No prose and no rants this round. Unless you actually want to read a report of what happened recently in the past few hours, I'm not going to type anything.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 10:27 PM

 
I like this test:

take free enneagram test

 
Re-edit
I made a re-edit of my previous post because I thought that my descriptive powers were very, very, very poor in the previous version. Heck, my powers of prose manipulation isn't that good yet, but I can do better than what I did in the previous version, which was merely a lot of words rammed together according to what I felt and not according to how it would sound to the reader.

I edited my last post. That's all you need to know. The main points remain the same, though.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 7:24 AM

 
Greyworth Evening
This is how the day is for Karcy:

Let us start with night. The night is filled with the blare of the radio or TV as all your family gather at home. You don't do any work then, but you might be found on the computer. Eventually, towards the later part of night, at eleven or midnight, you start to do your work on the computer. It is then that you have the haunting atmosphere of silence as you complete whatever thing you're doing for tomorrow. It is early morning when you sleep. All around you the world is silence.

In the morning when you wake, you prepare to do work. Work, yeah, like the stuff you didn't complete last night. Maybe you just prepare for the day. Mornings, especially early mornings before the sun rises, until nine or so when the sun is already high up, are bright, fresh, energetic and exciting. You charge into the day.

The day goes on, and by the afternoon the day is hot. The sun blares unto your skin and shrinks your pupils. You don't like going out at this time of the day. There is nothing interesting on television. Outside, the rumbles of the cars, motorbikes and huge sixteen wheeled lorries zoom by, to and fro, in the heat of the afternoon. You need a siesta because you are tired and drowsy. And a siesta is what you have then. A good long nap.

And then you wake up.

And it's evening, or approaching evening. And there is such a painful feeling in the evening, a feeling that you have lost something, that you've missed some form of chance to grab something. The feeling that you once had something before - your zeal for life, like an adventure, in your childhood; your religion in your teenagehood; your friends in your schoolgirl days; the friends you've stopped speaking to and have changed beyond recognition - there is always something in the world of nostalgia that comes out and grabs you, and tell you that today, on this very day and on this very evening, you don't have it anymore.

And to accompany the feeling of loss there is the feeling of longing, longing for some sort of love, some sort of company, some sort of ... heck, some sort of anything. I can't exactly put it into words. It's just a longing.

Funny. Even in my dreams (the ones that happen when you go to bed at night, not the ones that are another name for pointless ambition), there is always this feeling that I am searching for something, but never really finding it. Whether it's running away from the bad guys in search for a refuge, calling back someone that you love who has renounced you, or finding a solution to a growing problem, most of my dreams deal with finding something. Yet even when I achieve the desired goal in my dream, I would never be happy and the longing would not cease. What would a psychoanalyst say?

I've got to learn to accept evenings as just another part of day. Somehow my moods get badly affected during the evenings.

Oh by the way, the name Greyworth Evening is in actual fact the name of a character in my long term project (I plan to make it a series), entitled Palette, which incidentally is the name of the brand of computer that I am using. I call it a project because I don't feel it's worth the title of 'novel'. A novel is well, a novel. It is a collection of words carefully sorted out and compiled to form a darn good story. But a project - now the difference lies in...heck what is the difference? - the goal is bigger. The packaging is different. Even if it takes the form of a novel or a series of novels, it is a project, and other things attached to it are all part of the package. And as big projects go, you get very, very, attached to it.

Which is why I'm really worried now that I've misplaced my sketchbook for the drafts and worldbuilding of Palette.

A bit of Palette can be seen in my writing exercise here. It's not the final form, of course. It was just me trying to beat writer's block.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 2:22 AM

 
I have finally found a title more gross than mine
That I have:

foundation of piss and vinegar

  posted by Karcy R. @ 5:52 PM

 
A review
So now that anime has turned into paltry entertainment for me, I have decided to switch my attention to movies.

Movies won't take me to a higher plane of excitement the way cartoons do, for the simple reason that I just can't detach myself from the fact that I'm watching a performance. I'd watch a movie and say "excellent acting", and "wonderful directing" or "sharp scriptwriting", but I just can't be taken out of my present consciousness and be fully engulfed in the story the way I can with a book, comic or cartoon. There's always this annoying presence of performance -

- but screw that. You get my point. I saw Ronin today on TV3. You know, the one with Robert DeNiro.

Well, you can get some in-depth reviews over at Rottentomatoes, so I'll spare you the details. Let me just inform you of my conclusion: Ronin was not exactly bad, but it was not exactly good, either. To tell you the truth, I'm not a movie buff, and I've already seen everything the film has to offer almost everywhere else. That's not exactly the best thing to hear when you're bored of fiction and looking for The Original Inspirational of Fiction.

But no, I wasn't looking for anything smart. I was just looking for something to waste a few hours with and some cool acting from Robert DeNiro. I have to admit, his role could be easilly played by anyone else who can say a few snappy lines and look cool playing an action hero, but hey, it's a matter of screen charisma. As for the entertainment bit, well, the story was tight, but I just couldn't be thrilled. How can you be thrilled when you've seen all the tricks that have been pulled off before?

To top it off, the ending was a bit of a letdown. Without going out to spoil the story for anyone who has not watched it, let me just say that I felt that the writers pulled a Deus ex Machina on the whole layers of conspiracies they built up.

Conclusion: Ronin isn't bad. It's not all that good, either. If I had a chance to buy it, I wouldn't.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 9:47 AM

 
Get outta my way!

test by Leanne
which CCS character are you?

 
Happy birthday Lillian

Once a year we celebrate,
With stupid hats and plastic plates,
The fact that you were able to make
Another trip around the sun.
And the whole clan gathers ‘round,
And gifts and laughter do abound.
And we let out a joyful sound
And sing that stupid song.

Happy birthday!
Now you’re one year older.
Happy birthday!
Your life still isn’t over.
Happy birthday!
You did not accomplish much.
But you didn’t die this year, I guess that’s good enough.

I wanted to call WowFM, but I remembered that you would be in college. Song above comes from Arrogant Worms. I got tired of all those mushy inspirational birthday messages, and you probably will be too once you get smothered by all the b-day messages from friends.

PS: May you survive many more trips round the sun
PS 2 : May you accomplish much.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 11:46 PM

 
I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare
No points for guessing where I got those words from

It's come to this.

For most of the part of my life, I've been emblazing my age over the stuff I've written and publicised on the Net - and elsewhere - with pride. There's nothing more impressive than a statement to some high suit going "Hello, I'm a fourteen / fifteen/ sixteen / seventeen / eighteen year old girl, and this is my really brilliant work that you simply must take notice of!"

Teens who make it get a certain amount of respect and fame, not to mention a little envy from their fellow teens, and well, you want to take advantage of your teenship. You want to establish yourself as this young, brilliant mind capable of shaking the world at an early age. And so you boast your age: Hello, I'm a twelve year old girl, good evening, I am a thirteen year old girl, excuse me, I'm a fourteen year old girl...

But, as cliche as it sounds, things don't last forever. The phrase is cliche because, quite simply, it's true. You run out of years to include after your greetings to suit-man. And it has come to the point when I just can't say "Hello, I'm a (my age) year old girl, and here is my work" anymore. It's come to the point when I don't include my age in e-mails or letters to other people in the hopes of gaining some cheap shot of extra advantage or approval from strangers who are oh-so-easilly-impressed by the 'wonderful talent and potential in someone so young' (as if talent only embodies itself in the old!). It's come to the point when I really, truly, have to depend on the quality and favourability (sp?) of my work instead of hitching my talent to age and impress people with my potential.

It's come to the point when you look over the years, and you say "man, I've lived for that long, and I've never really made it big the way I wanted to be big when I reach twenty".

It's come to the point when I don't quite like the idea of stating my age. It's come to the point when I'm pretty much embarassed of it. To realise that you've lost your extra credit to impress. To realise that you no longer hold your license to act immature because you know people will forgive you. To act like you know everything in the world. To realise that you've stepped up into the other part of life, and that though you are still energetic and bouncy and you're ready to dance and be hyper and climb mountains and walk a thousand miles - things that I've never bothered to do in my teens - you've joined the rank of adulthood.

And you're expected to act like one.

I hate that.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 2:57 AM

 
Days, again
It's hot. Wait, it's not.

My body radiated heat, but I couldn't sweat. I wanted to shave all my hair off to let the heat escape my head faster. The air felt thick and heavy. It was difficult just to breathe. To make things worse, some very brilliant people have decided to do some open burning behind my house. I splashed water over my arms and face so many times that I lost count. Had an uncomfortable afternoon nap. Living the day was an endurance test.

This is the humidity of March.

Only last week I've been running out of the house to bring the clothes in to avoid rain. Now I'm pulling them in to keep them from becoming dusty from the vehicles' kicking up the dirt on the road. There won't be rain for many days. Not with the winds blowing out to the sea instead of blowing from it. Not with the small time farmers in Kalimantan doing slash and burn.

It's much cooler now, at 6:30 in the evening. Much cooler.

You know what I'd really like to watch right now? Queer as Folk.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 2:14 AM

 
Aih!
I don't think I'll be in time to finish my stories for Silverfish.

  posted by Karcy R. @ 7:36 PM