Oh so perfect.

Your Love Life is Like The Princess Bride

"Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind." For you, love is like a fairy tale - albeit a fairly twisted one. You believe romance is all about loyalty, fate, and a good big of goofy fun. Your love style: Idealistic yet quirky Your Hollywood Ending Will Be: Perfectly romantic

- posted by Washi @ 11:28 am 0 comments

 
You, my darling, are very glossy.
Excuse me while I try to trick this program into thinking I know what I'm doing.

Now excuse me while I shake it into understanding that I am the unrivaled master, as my puny human brain wars against it's mechanical deviousness.

That is all.
- posted by Washi @ 12:50 pm 0 comments

 
It's almost like it's completely random.
You know, I STILL haven't gotten my tattoo. I'm thinking y'know what? that's it! I'm getting it done. Soon as AVCon is over, I'm getting me inked. Again.

IN SEPIA!

So I'll print that out and be ready.

Also, the complete and utter lack of stuff in this blog is a little dejecting - I mean honnestly, how long have I had it? I should maintain it better - I'm much better at typing then keeping an actual journal. I tried that once. It was awful. But it smelt pretty, because the book had scented pages. That book still makes me happy, even though it's full of prose and processes so disgusting in their childishness and clumsiness they make me what to paradoxically strangle my younger self and leave my body out on some building somewhere as a warning to others.

There is a new labeling system. I'll be stuffed if I'm gonna go back and back label my posts back to 2001 (Yep, I've been here since 2001.) - I'll compulsively spellcheck everything, and that'll just make baby buddha cry.

I've been slowly strangling the english language for almost exactly six years on this Blog. It's a fascinating look back at my existence for the stalker amongst you, a source of endless ammusement and derision for those among you who love me, and a waste of valuable bytes for the rest of the internet population. I haven't had a valid thought to think in years. Honestly, not since University.

Back in the day, posts were finished with ammusing quotes. I collected them. I still do, but the files they were stored in are frequently deleated. Also, having this journal allerts me to the fact I've had heart troubles for six years at least.

I'm thinking of perhaps putting some teasers up of scripts I'm working on. My grasp of art sucks badly, but dialogue is fun to write, so I might put up some dialogue snippets. Bits that I like.

Listening to people talk is fascinating to me. The way people speak is completely diferent from the written word in every way. The language tends towards economy, with words and sounds dropped out if they aren't useful to the understanding of the phrase. But more padding words are used, to give speakers time to think. I like the spoken language. Not for me to use, but to listen to.

The light's been so awesome around here at about knock-off time. The sky is a mix of yellow and grey, like someone has thrown a grey veil over dried grass and suspended it in the sky. It's because the clouds haven't streatched all the way into the west lately. The sun paints agross them as it sinks, and the evening light lately has been yellow. Not gold or rose as it often is in early summer, but very much yellow. I often wished to live in a place where the sun painted the sky green. I like to paint the skies in green. But I think I can be happy with a sky in yellow and grey too. The buildings and trees look beautiful against it - those trees that are still in full foliage. The yellow light paints them almost gold, but gives them the look of young leaves that winter trees just shouldn't have.

There's a game caled Nights into Dreams. It has the best rendition of what a tree with young leaves looks like that I've ever seen - pretty spiffy coming from a game. Everything in that game was designed to look young though - the snow was crisp and white, the ground was soft, the grass was pale and new, and the trees were young, and in the full renders the sunlight shone through the leaves, making them a luminescent pale green.

If I were a real artist, I would paint the sky in yellow and grey, behind a tree of luminescent yellow-green leaves, pale and translucent in the sunlight that cut across.

And then I would live there.

Later, puppies.
- posted by Washi @ 11:40 am 0 comments