Sardelac Crematorium

To oneself that has not been updating this wastage of a space, I sincerly apologize, dear visitors for the lack of commitment to this site. I'd half forgotten I have this to begin with! Such subtle impact blogger.com has become, hasn't it?

Henceforth, this blog will be in a permanent comatose and lay waste in the dustiness of binaries and hexadecimals.

I kid.

Probably a random update, maybe?

On a final note: do i have to remind you that being the minority in humankind has not been simple? do take note that i am tired of this constant babysitting of your naivite.

enough!

flar lar lar

It's the last day of my break.

I have to get it inside my head that whatever I do, should do better. It's always "there's tomorrow" or "maybe in five minutes time" that always gets me into knee deep shits. 

I get the job done, yes, but always not of the intended quality.

I already know the way out but, holding it off is so much easier.

On a final note: Going down the same path as your predecessors is always a bad idea.

the cold hard pit

languishing in the mid-autumn has never been so, what's the word, refreshing?

apart from my already shitty day, home is always like a welcoming committee; slowly and gently coaxing you to comfort.

shitty. done unto myself most of the time and yet i want it to seem that others were the ones that did it to me. the saying "do unto others what ye want others to do unto ye" has never been so clear till now.

honestly, i was apprenshive about what to write. but i think i haven't lost the touch of stringing nonsensical phrases yet still sounding comprehensible. at least to me.

suddenly Odysseus came into mind. i wonder what he looked like in person. he was a crafty man. i think he has fox ears. and red hair but with white streaks.

and forgive these absolutely irrelevant sentences. i'm just warming up for the next day. have to keep the right brain sharp and shiny. 

or was it the left? details, pah.

on a final note: WoW is next to cleanliness which is next to godliness.

how those came into play, one might wonder. hard.

The day I was conscripted (And many other tales).

I was conscripted. After months (minutes actually) of defiant lashings at the government, I succumbed and went along like the many sheep we are.

Though my first week trudged along like the scrapings of nails on chalkboards, it wasn't without its share of "zomg" moments. The usual "Meet the People" was as cliched as it will ever be. Getting to know everyone even though they don't concern me much was puzzling to say the least. Apprehension was at the top of my list when I'm in an alien environment. Can't help it, self-defense. So I kept to myself for the first few days and slowly warmed up to them. 

Like the geek I am, my first question was either: Hey, do you play any games or do you read any comics? Went well with some and obviously not with others. I think they've accepted me as a colleague. Which is good!

Diverging from that boring topic, I'm now using a browser called Opera. Now, don't be fooled by its name, that thing is bloody fast. I don't know what magic developer codes they used (my guess will be: <  magic> makefastfastbrowser=if true: make fastfast, if false: change to stupid IE < /magic> ) but it's god damned fast.

And being the l337 fucker at gaming (falsehood), I'm championing a 90+ hours of gameplay on Pyro in Team Fortress 2. I'm extremely proud of it.

That sounded extremely pathetic at second glance. gah.

On a final note: Still more to cover but.

Tomorrow perhaps?

ampersand

oh, hi.

the long hiatus was uncalled for as my creative juices were channel to something else(my disastrous fyp) but i've returned in full form and all-fleshiness.

it's life without those pesky little nuances like, say, runny-nose or that itch in your back that you can't seem to reach or malicious viruses that minIMIZES EACH AND EVERYWINDOWYOUOPENANDTHENCLOSETHEMANDTHENOPENNEWONESANDTHEN -- *breathe* sigh.

things like that. makes me. an angry person.

and i know whose responsible. i can't talk here as i know they're watching me. and damn them for doing that. you should be sued.

that said, i've finish reading a TPB a couple of weeks if not months ago called: Y The Last Man and, as you've guessed it, it's about this guy named Yorick whose --yes, you know why. so the story is Yorick along with his pet monkey Ampersand were the only male mammal survivors after a gendercide that swept globally simultaneouly. sounds implausible but i assure you, the reasoning behind it is quite the good one. so he's the reluctant hero who sought the truth on what happened and that got him into a whole lotta mess. and he did took advantage of the situation but not a whole lot. and its a smart thing too that he didn't.

the artwork is really easy to get into. its colour palette were fantastically chosen and models(especially the women) were gorgeously drawn. the characters were one of the memorable i've read in my six months of TPB reading(i know, i'm a noob) and overall, i'd place this under my ancient archives for 2068. thumbs up!

on a final note: i need a fresh reboot on the woonloong mammoth(its what i call my laptop). and its only been a year!

dang.

to 'urt ze samunrai

and just like that, everything was over.

as of 5th of March '08. i am a graduate of College East.

freedom never sounded so daunting. the thought of work; oh woe is me.

and damn conscription. what are we, 1873?

abolish conscription, please?

on a final note: I HATE WORKING.

and conscription.

a shimmer's delight

an ominous cloud of clanging metal and oil loomed by. Cassandra unwaveringly stood there, casting her venomous gaze upon them, smiling, enjoying the sight. for in mere minutes, she would die, facing the hordes of what looked like ants now.

she smiled. and leaped. and killed. and bled.

how she wished that Daius were to see her; how she danced in sweat and leather, how she graced amongst chunks of metal and how she sliced them like frozen meats.

by sunset, most of them were dead. Cassandra, weary but unfathomable by their numbers, kept on.

how Daius wished she would just stop for a moment and see him see her. but Daius is already dead. and so shall she, in moments' time.

her arms were on the floor, she saw them fell when something cut it. they subdued her.

writhing in defiance, she looked. they smiled at each other. she braced herself.

with a single tug, she was naked and in a flurry of motion, she was pinned, raped and groped. she felt good, but Daius was still her first, and her last. he smiled.

and they were satisfied and flung her meat into The Mouth. and they danced while Cassandra's thick blood oozed down their cold cheeks.

on a final note: love and remembrance are carried through death.

how i wish that was true.

Sandman- issue #08

death is before me today:
like the recovery of a sick man,
like going forth into a garden after sickness.

death is before me today:
like the odour of myrrn,
like sitting under a sail in a good wind.

death is before me today:
like the course of a stream,
like the return of a man fro the war-galleyto his house.

death is before me today:
like the home a man longs to see,
after years spent as a captive.

on a final note: fear not death, as it is as natural as birth itself.

TGIF

so i read this comic boo -- correction, this trade paperback(TPB) called Fables (Vertigo).

what's a TPB?! you insolent fools!

well, it's just a comic book printed on fine ass piece of paper and with better presentation. haha.

i degressed.

so, Fables (Vertigo). it's a twisted take on all of your fairytale characters i.e. Pinocchio, Goldilocks & the Three Bears etc, slabbed up into a fantastic, orgasmic bloody t-bone steak, served with dijon mustard and all profanity and porn fetishes(i lied) known to man. Snow Queen never looked so hot before.

not spoiling anything for anyone but, Old King Cole's the mayor and Red Riding Hood was actually bad but then she was good and Jack and the Beanstalk was actually John and Snow White had sex with Big Bad Wolf(Bigby) and had kids and -- oh shit! spoilerssss

on a final note: i need a gaming rig ffs! playing TFT2 in this laptop is a downer.

horus' eye

i need a perfect, fantastical utopia where unicorns are silver white and elven chicks are ready to fuck. /nerd

i feel empty lately. even going out is a chore.

it's apparent to me what seem to be the root of it, but, i dunno.

solving it isn't really possible. it's a multitude of thoughts that make it all the more complex.

and we all know that compexity isn't very good.

on a final note: i m dprsd