Ten Things

Today, for the purpose of spamming my own blog, I will put up a list of ten. Okay, 2 lists.

First is "Ten Films I Want To See Before I Die." It goes as follows.

10. The Bridge On The River Kwai - the song is stuck in my head. It won't go away.

9. Breakfast At Tiffany's - I happen to like Audrey Hepburn.

8. Seven Samurai - I've already actually seen this, but you can't help but want to watch it again.

7. Apocalypse Now - "I love the smell of napalm in the morning." Enough said.

6. Roman Holiday - This one I have never seen, in part or entirely.

5. Gone With The Wind - I only managed to catch the first half as a kid. I've been trying to watch it complete ever since.

4. Citizen Kane - this is a grand, grand movie. Watch it.

3. Ran - so I can be a bit of a sucker for Kurosawa films.

2. Battle Royale - my favorite feel-good movie.

1. Casablanca - come now, you can't not want to watch this, can you?

Yeah, really pointless, huh? Mostly classic films, which is what I usually go for. Oh, and for those among you who are feeling generous, I have a couple of...MP3 files I'm looking for. 10 of the, actually. Don't expect any consistency. I'd appreciate a link to where I can grab them for free, you know.

If you'll excuse me...

Gripe # 9: Invictus

I have just recently come to understand something.

I hate my current project I work at, thus I constantly find ways to keep my mind off it, even when I should be working on it. However, the more I "distract" myself from it, the more my project makes me loathe it.

I mean, I've had projects I didn't like before. That's a given when you work, even if you're not in my line of work. However, I've never had any problems with "distracting" myself from my work and then just coming back to it. I look up random things on Wikipedia or write something other than what I'm supposed to be writing, but when I go back, I don't hold even more disdain for what I need to work on. However, this "Elite Writer" bullshit is an entirely different case.

I'm tired.

No question about that. Nothing unusual about that either. I tend to be tired after a long day of having to content with every fiber of my being and write something I don't like or believe in. This is an internal struggle that I loathe with every last bone in my body. But it pays the bills and puts cash in my pocket, so I just suck it up and deal with it. Yes, I barely have any mental energy to put into Cecilia & Mint anymore, let alone my other still-evolving-into-something-workable fiction project, but I deal. Oh yes, I deal with a lot of things at work.

I deal with the incompetence of upper management.

I deal with the inability of anyone in the office to do anything but whine about it.

I deal with the innate stupidity of the projects I have to do while the ones I can do well end up in the hands of people who can't appreciate their subtle charms.

I deal with the nigh-unreasonable "meet the quota" demand that the boss pushes on us, despite every last bit of shit he throws our way that doesn't fall into aforementioned quota.

I deal with vague instructions, impossible demands, and useless sources.

I deal with frustration, choking sensations, and the urge to just get up and leave.

I deal with the pennies, nickels, and dimes that I get as payment for things I should be getting twice (if not thrice!) my salary for.

Over time, you come to accept them and complain about them and the fact that you can't do anything about it. However, I think I've gone past that point.

I am not angry.

Very, very angry.

Recently, I've stopped asking myself "Where do we go from here?" and, instead, I beg "Let me rest in peace!" instead. I don't feel the spark in writing this garbage anymore. I just want to get up and quit, find a better-but-similar job elsewhere. Don't think I won't, given the proper motivation and a place to shift attentions to. I have no loyalties, save to myself and to the things and people that matter to me. Sure, there are people at Intelligraph I'd rather not have to never see again, but I'll accept that fact when it comes. I've lost work-friends before, I'll lose them again. Besides, it isn't like there was anyone in this office that I was particularly close to. No, this office didn't have anyone like Grace or Nina or...okay, there's really very few others in that list.

I'm starting to see the logic behind the "burn-out" parties that call centers tend to have.

Of course, the boss I work for now is too much of a cheap-ass to pay for one. Not that he has trouble stuffing cash down his pockets for his own personal use. Nope, employee morale and motivation is just a luxury he can't afford to afford. Yes, I just made sense. Don't question me.

But I keep as calm as possible about this whole thing. Oh yes, I do. I don't have much of a choice, really. So I sit. And I write. And I smile when I see the bitch and bastard that run this place. Because I really don't have much of a choice. Can't lost face to them. Not now. Not yet. No. Must keep slaving away. Must continue enduring the torture. Must not show them even a sliver of weakness. Must not give them the satisfaction of breaking me.

Because, really, I think that's what they're trying to do. They're trying to break me. They're putting more and more straws on this camel's back, just waiting to see how much pressure it'd take for the back to break. I'm near my limit, but I have no intention of giving them that satisfaction on their terms. I'll leave on my terms, look back only when I need to, and try not to speak of what I am going through again. One might say that I just stepped out of the "honeymoon stage," but I disagree. That ended a long time ago. Now I'm in a position to want a full-scale divorce, complete with the ugly legal battles for more than just half of everything.

Not that I think I'll ever get back the time and energy I spent working for them that I could have spent on more...worthwhile pursuits.

Of course, there's more to this than just that!

On a truly, truly personal level, I think I'm regressing. Well, my writing anyway. Sure, on the technical aspects I'm better than before, but that's not what I'm worried about. My grammar and technical skills improve as I write, so that's nothing that I can attribute to this...place. But my actual skills? My ability to weave and create and bind with words concepts, characters, and ideas? No, my friend, I fear those things I've worked so hard (and am still working hard on) to grasp are fading faster than my seemingly non-existent dreams.

The only reason Cecilia & Mint is going strong is because the story is so very dear to me. That, and the ending just demands to be written and shown to the world. Of course, one can't have an ending without events leading up to said ending, so I go on. I toil on this story as I toil on pointless articles about acne treatments that never work and the psychological aftermath that makes people act whiny and emo. But in Cecilia & Mint, I feel alive and unconstrained.

When I write any of my fiction, or even this blog, I feel like my writing can finally be itself. I'm infinitely thankful for that.

But I'm worried that the more I write for Intelligraph, the more I'll lose my innate writing style. Sure, the technical aspects are there, but that's like following the letter of the law, not the spirit of it. That's what I'm terrified of losing and that's what I feel like I'm starting to lose my grip on. The spirit of my writing.

The same spirit that sparked a revolution in Fanfiction.net's Love Hina fanfics section, introducing those people to the large-scale wonders of shoujo-ai.

The same spirit that resulted in the creation of Yuki's Diary, easily one of the most disturbed pieces ever to grace Fictionpress.com's servers.

The same spirit that infected my brother and got him started in writing his own fiction.

The same spirit that will finish Cecilia & Mint, even if it kills me.

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

On a note unrelated to my latest Gripe, congratulations to Ms. Riyo Mori, of Japan. All hail the new Miss Universe!



I like her. Very pretty, with that "come-on-you-know-you-want-me" look and winning smile.

Yo ho, all together...

Yo ho, all together
Hoist the colors high
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we die

Just watched Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End recently.

Funny movie, with plenty of action and conniving to keep things flowing. It has also, oddly enough, inspired me to, in Pirate King Elizabeth Swann's words, "Hoist the colors!"

No, I'm not talking about accepting the bad hand I've been dealt with my job. I simply intend to bear my resentment, my loathing, my abject desire to annihilate the insipid idiocies of my post with pride. I intend to complain and writhe and bitch about this abuse, this company, and this bullshit until someone hears me and decides to do something about it or me.

Yes, I'm just making this shit up as I go along.

Frankly, I'm not really in the mood to talk about much today.

Lost Angles

Life, I have concluded, is a series of dodecahedron formations mounted upon one another such that they form a near-infinite number of angles and tangents. At the heart of this malevolent formation is you, trying to make heads-or-tails of the whole thing from the inside. Not pleasant.

In keeping with this general line of thought, I've decided to try and spot as many of these angles and tangents as possible. Numbering them, if need be. For today's completely useless bit of banter, we have a series of tangents that have come to my attention again recently. I suspect I've done each one in this blog at least once before, but there is always a good reason to re-visit your old thoughts and perceptions, no?

Tangent 8472: EduNara

I think it's time I did a re-visit on my EduNara entry. People who comment on that seem to be entirely focused on the fact that you're, basically, lying to the Korean people. Interestingly enough, that's not what I disliked the most about the company's policies, even if I did oppose the idea. Personally, I disliked the thought that I was being, in the simplest terms, shafted.

The company, from what I remember (that's a lot) and what I've heard since, is a rip-off artist that'll put P.T. Barnum to shame. And they're not just ripping off the employees! No, they're ripping off the Koreans too, and I have no beef against Korea, so I don't like them being treated in this manner.

I know a couple of Koreans here and there. They're not as prejudiced as EduNara's higher-ups would like you to think. Sure, they'd prefer if they were taught by someone who is a native speaker, but they know as well as we do that native speakers rarely have the best grasp of their native tongue's grammar and aesthetics. Koreans have a trait that they share with the Japanese (though they'll deny this until the country is nuked by their Northern brethren under orders of "Dear Leader"), and that is the appreciation of sincere, hard work. Show them you know what you're doing and you're doing it well for the sake of doing it well, and they will appreciate you (and your work) for it.

My other complaint lies in the fact that we're told to lie to them. This is unfair to us, as we are not Americans. There is no way that we can pretend to be Americans unless we've been there and have managed to spend a significant amount of time there. It isn't the lying itself that bothers me, as I'm a natural liar and I believe firmly that deception and conspiracy are the true foundations of a society or religion. What I am complaining about is the fact that we're not given ample material to build our lies upon. If you expect us to pretend to be Americans, provide us with what we need to concoct a plausible backstory for our supposed "American lives," you bloody gits.

Of course, this all boils down to my most important complaint about the place. Payment. Let's see. You expect us to lie to the people we talk to. You expect us to tolerate varying levels of English incompetence without even consulting us on whether or not we'd be comfortable (or, indeed, capable) of such things. You expect us to craft a detailed, elaborate background to explain the lies we are supposed to tell. And you expect us to do this for the same amount that a typical Dell - ABU Customer Care agent makes? Rip-off, plain and simple.

For one thing, Dell - ABU doesn't expect us to lie. They expect us to be understood by the client and to be nice and friendly. Incidentally, EduNara expects that too. Anyway, EduNara is basically requiring me to do twice the mental labor on a daily basis that I used to do for Dell. For the same amount of money. By all rights, if there was any actual justice in this world, I should get more money than that!

I'm glad I never bothered to show up for the second day. It would have been a waste of brain cells.

Angle 3341: Intelligraph Kills The Artist In Me

It is not a truth. It is a fact.

You'd think working in a place where you have to write would be a good thing for your inner artist, your inner Stephen King or Anne Rice or William Shakespeare. But no. In the 9 months I've been here, I have yet to produce something even remotely touching upon my old projects. Gods, I miss actually enjoying the prospect of writing.

Well, not that I don't enjoy it anymore. Just that now it's...different.

I enjoy the nature of the work, the chaotic temper of the beast. I do not enjoy the details of the work, the patchwork that makes up the horns of the bull.

I have an outlet to let out my creative juices, of course. Cecilia & Mint is progressing nicely, thank you very much. However, the words from the song echo in my head every single time I sit down, turn on that computer, and see the Ubuntu Linux splash screen come up.

Where do we go from here?

Promotion is not an option. I'm a competent writer. I'm an incompetent editor. I refuse to be put into a position where the skills I've developed will essentially be made useless. You spend so long at one task that you become good at it, but when they promote you because you're good at your job, you find that the promotion requires work that's completely different from what you're good at. Thus, from competency and skill, you degenerate to incompetency and idiocy. I refuse to be part of that. You want to reward me for being a good writer, pay me more. Don't remove me from what I'm good at.

I'm thankful for Cecilia & Mint. That project, that novel is what keeps me stable and sane now. Granted, what goes on in those pages is utterly insane, but that's just my mind and my memories collaborating to make sure that even if the novel is a love story, it is as far from a normal one as humanly possible. 100-plus pages and I'm nowhere near done yet, which I actually feel good about. It might not become a New York Times Bestseller. It might never even get published beyond the Internet. But, really, I write it because I love the story, I love the characters, and I love how it feels to just let it all flow out through the keypad of my trusty Treo650, where the whole thing was written.

When that's done, I'll likely go into a lull for a bit, and then another idea will spark up.

However, I don't think anything I make from here on end is going to be as dear to me as Cecilia & Mint. This story is my creative spark, a culmination of things I've consciously studied and things I've somehow learned through means I do not understand. And Gods, I love the women in it.

However, I do feel ripped-off by the "Elite Writer" program. From what I understand, I'm basically been turned into a copywriter, minus the decent pay. This sucks. I know copywriters. I know how well they're paid. For the love of Asmodeus, my uncle is a copywriter. I'm getting paid a half-opened bag of peanuts compared to what a typical copywriter would get if he worked in a halfway decent company. On top of that, the boss is piling up more and more added tasks for us that no longer fall into our job description, no matter how much you stretch the terms of it. This bullshit I put up with isn't worth even half the aggravation I deal with on a daily basis, but I keep going to work. Why?

Well, for one thing, I have yet to find a place with the same work but better pay. Technically, there is one, but I like to think I'm not desperate enough to write pornography, Yuki's Diary and assorted lemon fanfics aside.

The other thing is that I like the flexibility. I'm done with my work, so I can leave. I get home, I start writing whatever I feel like. I have a lot more time to work on my baby, Cecilia & Mint, than I would at any other job. Part of me doesn't want to let that go. Not until I get to the home stretch.

Tangent 66754: Philosophy

Here are a few things I've learned about life and dealing with it.

1. Everything in life is about timing and location.
2. It is easier to write about being in love than it is to be in love.
3. Be nice to girl, because if there is a "God," chances are "God" is female.
4. Rare is the person who understands the value of a single, perfect rose.
5. The only truly, perfectly happy bride and groom are the ones that are used as decorations on the wedding cake.
6. There is no such thing as perfection, as being perfect implies the absence of flaws, which is, itself, a flaw.
7. In love, one party is always Pygmalion and one party is always Galatea.
8. God does not play dice with the world. He plays roulette using the Nostradamus method.
9. The truth is malleable.
10. We may claim otherwise, but we always make our "gods" in our image.

One Bad Day

Currently Listening To: "Aria de Mezzo Carattere," from Final Fantasy VI. The last true Final Fantasy game.

Currently Watching: my hand move. Because I damn well can.

Currently Plotting: the bloody murder of two particular individuals who have recently made life just that touch bit more annoying and unbearable.

For no particular reason, I feel thoroughly displeased this particular Friday. I don't know the reasons for this, just that I am. It isn't the work, which I've finally talked myself into accepting as some sort of advanced taste of what Hell must be like for folks like me. It isn't that I seem to be able to find less and less time to write Cecilia & Mint during the weekdays, though I'm practically crapping out ideas for The Ramblings of Naga, which is a fantasy-styled piece I'm currently outlining. No, I suspect this particularly bad day is caused by something else, though I can't put my finger on what.

It isn't in the playlist on my MP3 player, seeing as how I updated it last night with some of my favorite anime and video game tracks. It can't be my lack of anime to watch at home, though I am sorely in need of watching Sister Princess right now. I'm pretty sure it isn't my abject inability to rip and tear and rend and mutilate the "management" of my office for this ridiculous additional work they're having me (and the rest of the writers) put up with without any additional pay. No, that's not it either. This is highly unusual for me, particularly because I tend to know why I have bad days.

Even "Hare Hare Yukai" (bless that song) isn't helping much.

In any case, I suppose my mood will lift when I get home and start working on Cecilia & Mint again. Yes, I'm still stuck on Chapter 8, and I doubt that I'll finish that any time soon. I've already made preparations to momentarily halt my brief return to fanfiction writing, if only to focus on the more important project. Despite the lack of comments on my work, I'm confident I can finish this piece, if only because this one has a cast of characters that are very, very dear to me.

As for my other original fiction project, The Ramblings of Naga, that's a different story. It has always bothered me that tales of sword-and-sorcery have a tendency to make the main character either a noble swordsman or a crafty mage of some sort. Sure, there are those rare exceptions, but that appears to be the general rule of things. Also, I've found the portrayal of magic to be a little too convenient and plain, even if it comes off as a strict discipline. I've always liked the portrayal of magic as shown by the Tremere Clan of White Wolf's Vampire: The Masquerade games.

In other words, magic is a slow, arduous, long task that produces potent results. The art is hardly one that is to be taken so lightly that one only needs make an incantation. So I've decided that for the "Naga" world, I'm going to use the pattern that the Tremere Clan established. In other words, the spells will be performed through long rituals and with deadly consequences for mistakes made during the casting. It'll be useless in the thick of combat, unless prepared beforehand. Or if you're calling upon the power of a superior being. You'll get it when I start writing how things work, but that might be a while from now. I have no intention of starting this piece until I reach Chapter 10 of Cecilia & Mint.

I'm eagerly awaiting the second season of Suzumiya Haruhi, which I hear is based on volume 4 of the novels, The Disappearance of Suzumiya Haruhi. This should be entertaining, as I think that novel (out of all of them) really explored Kyon's true feelings for the eccentricities and oddities that surround him, as well as provided the largest proof of a romantic connection between him and Haruhi since "The Kiss That Saved The World. Maybe." from volume 1. I have difficulty imagining how they'll pull off having a show where the main character doesn't appear until much later, however. Though I guess they can pull in incidents from the other books to fill in the gaps, much like they did for the first season. Naturally, episodes aired in non-chronological order is a must if they take that approach.

On a random thought, I doubt this is a bad enough day to drive me crazy and turn into the Joker. If you didn't get that reference, you clearly aren't a fan of the Batman graphic novel Batman: The Killing Joke. Oh, that was a good one. And I firmly believe in the Joker's theory that one really bad day is all someone needs to snap, become insane, and do things that they'd not have done under normal circumstances. While I'm not ready to fully accept the idea that society and sanity are fundamentally flawed concepts and should be discarded for mass insanity, I'm dangerously close to accepting his theory. After all, in the end, we're all nuts.

To quote:
"Madness is the emergency exit — you can just walk out on all the horrible things that happened and lock them away forever!"

Oh yes, I'm having a bad day. Just not that bad. Yet.

Well, rotten days are a dime a dozen in this office, anyway. I really should be used to it by now.

The Hell?!

Your Brain is 53% Female, 47% Male

Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve

What Gender Is Your Brain?

This is...actually, now that I think about it, it does seem pretty accurate.

Anyway, moving along...

Nothing much has changed. I still hate, hate, hate, hate, hate the "management." Incompetent, inadequate, idiots that they are. I'm still working on Cecilia & Mint, which is progressing nicely. Maybe I'll put up the entire first chapter in the blog some day, if I ever feel like it. Make the most of my resources, and all that. I'm also re-watching two specific anime series: Slayers and Tsukikage Ran. The latter I just watch for kicks, the former I watch for the character known as Naga, the White Serpent.



Yes, definitely watch it for Naga.

Anyway, that's all for now. I'm feeling lazy because I couldn't scour the elections for cash.

Cry. Scream. Die. Rinse. Repeat.

There are days when it just isn't worth the effort to get out of bed anymore...

This feels like one of them. It's Thursday and, to quote Arthur Dent (The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy), "I never could get the hang of Thursdays." Work is what it has become, as of late. Work. This, interestingly enough, is a seizure-inducingly bad thing. You see, my current project is about to be replaced with something that I know nothing about and, unlike my current project (which I knew nothing about when I started this whole mess), I thoroughly don't want to know anything about. There's a certain degree of incompetence involved in this management decision to put this new project on my plate (though I can't say I know when I'll be starting this torment), which I believe is proof enough that the higher up the chain of command you are, the more incompetent you are.

I think the words that best describe my daily thoughts on this matter are as follows:

"Another drab, dreary project with which to dull my creative skills. Joy."

Despite this, I am still here. One must wonder where I get this energy (or idiotic loyalty, depends on which of the voices in my head you ask) from. I suppose it stems from my innate desire to just keep writing, regardless of a majority of external factors. Yes, that's probably the case. Still, no words can possibly fathom the hatred I have for the people running the company I'm in. As I've said multiple times before, I'm underpaid, under-appreciated, overworked, and I'm damn tired of it. Right now, there are only a few things that give me comfort.

First, my little unconventional love story, Cecilia & Mint. I swear, not a single idea in that story is original. Then again, human beings stopped having original ideas a long time ago. Still, who would have thought I'd actually enjoy narrating that particular story? I mean, I'm crazy and all, but this story just explores the depths of how nuts I am, not to mention everyone else that's played an important role in my life. Still, I have the outline for this one set and, oddly, despite all the distractions and things that get in the way, I fully intend to finish it. Not an easy task, considering my writing of Chapter 8 is sluggish and I've got 60 chapters planned for this baby.

This is a love story I can really get into, oddly enough. There's hardly anything romantic about it, though some areas wax a little too philosophical for its own good. Still, I like writing the characters (particularly the currently nameless narrator, Cecilia, and Mint) and I feel comfortable tapping into the inner voices of my mind to characterize them. They give voice to my madness, which no fictional character really deserves to be burdened with. Days like this, I wish I could draw. Maybe then I'd add illustrations to the text, add that extra kick to it that I think would make it better. Oh well. Back to writing Chapter 8. At this rate, I'll be 45 before I finish the whole thing.

Second comfort in life would be the Haruhi Suzumiya series. Not since H2G2 have I felt so compelled to love a series of novels. There's a certain madness needed to actually enjoy these books at the obsessive level that I'm in, but they're worth it. Why? Because deep down, somewhere in our subconscious mind, every person out there has had dreams of being something like Haruhi Suzumiya. I'm inclined to think that, at one point, that boundless energy and imagination is something that all humans went through. Sure, the book can be a bit confusing to read sometimes, but the strain is worth it. Yes, Haruhiism is a great comfort to me.

Third is the idea that, at some point in my life, I'm going to get out of this mess I've walked right into. One day, I'm going to finally accomplish my goal of getting a novel out. I have no delusions of getting it into the New York Times Bestseller's list. Right now, I'd be content just to get a damn thing published. When that day comes, find me and shoot me, because I can die happy. I'm hoping it'll be Cecilia & Mint, but I'd be content if it was anything original I've written.

As pointed out by a friend of mine, I seem to have developed a fascination for characters portrayed (voiced) by Natsuki Kuwatani. Two roles of hers, in particular, stand out for me. Kanako Urashima of Love Hina Again (the OVA) and Ryoko Asakura of Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuutsu. A friend of mine, Tuxedo Jack, believes this fascination may eventually extend to include Kuwatani herself. Unlikely, as the only voice actresses I've ever found to my tastes are Aya Hirano and Maaya Sakamoto. Still, considering my mental state, I wouldn't put it past myself.

On a final note, election time is coming. Like my cousin, I have no intention of voting. Everyone knows the people casting the votes don't determine the election results. The people counting the votes do. Thank you for that overwhelmingly intelligent piece of wisdom, Joseph Stalin. However, I do plan on cruising the local vote-buyers and getting as much money out of them as possible. I could use the extra cash, honestly.

Now, I end with this paraphrased conversation from H2G2:

Marvin, the Paranoid Android: I have an intellect the size of a planet. Go ahead. Pick a number. Any number.

Mattress: Five.

Marvin, the Paranoid Android: Wrong. See?

And the mattress took that as a sign of great intelligence.

Once More, With Feeling (Again!)

How did that song go again? Oh yeah...

Where do we go
From here?
Why is the path unclear
When we know home is near?


No, I think this other song fits my mood better...

I don't wanna be...
Going through the motions
Losing all my drive
I can't even see
If this is really me
And I just wanna be...
Alive!

Yes. That sums up my current mood rather nicely.

I'm tired. Months of writing about nothing but the [removed for security purposes, pardon my sarcasm] is grinding. I have a couple of projects that keep my mind occupied and otherwise creatively enthused, but this is ridiculous. My story, Cecilia & Mint, is progressing nicely, though I've stalled at the start of Chapter 8: Sith Lords. This is because of some minor complications that force me to do something I long thought I abandoned and I consider something rather distasteful.

Fanfiction.

Yes, I'm writing fanfiction again. To be specific, Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfiction. Though part of me wants to drag in the Haruhi Suzumiya series into this "revival" of my old habit. Right now, I'm actually rather low-key (which contrasts with how I ended my Love Hina fanfiction days: as a god), though I've only got two pieces in so far. Hitsuzen is a Ty Lee/Jin story, with the appropriate shoujo-ai warnings. The other one isn't even worth mentioning, really. However, I do have two others in mind that I'm only starting to plan.

I'll get back to Cecilia & Mint when I finish writing Hitsuzen, which should be about 7 to 9 days from now. Or I'll start plotting out my other original fiction idea, entitled Rise, God-King.

Anyway, I'm bored with work. I'm tired of what they're having me write. I hate the system and the rules and the idiotic demands, such as giving me something to write and sending me the instructions on how the client wants it written a week later! I'm tired of the crappy chair that offers terrible back support, has an uncomfortable seat, and makes sounds at the slightest movement. I'm tired of the crappy Ubuntu OS and the good-for-nothing mouse that I have to work with. I'm tired of being over-worked and underpaid and being expected to deliver god-like levels of quality when I'm barely being paid jack-shit, and shit just left the building!

Mind you, I'm not tired of writing. However, I am tired of the circumstances that at work that force me into writing the same drab garbage over and over. Well, I probably wouldn't mind it so much if the whole thing didn't bring in so little cash.

As for Spider-man 3, it was a good film. I just didn't like the choice of using the Ultimate Marvel version of Venom in the film's universe. I'm not too fond of the New Goblin idea either, though I guess that does lend more closure to Harry Osborn's situation in the film than the traditional comic outcome would have. I don't like the portrayal of Gwen Stacy either. However, I did like the very human element that they added to Flint "The Sandman" Marko.

I hope Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End fares better.

And my left ankle hurts like Hell if I keep it still, if I put any weight or pressure on it, if I walk on it, or even so much as breathe on it.

Sometimes, I just can't get a break.

I can lay my body down
But I can't find my sweet release
So let me
Rest In Peace...