RESONANCE!

Alright, Casey has returned. Big shock. Just thought I'd update, considering I haven't in a while now.

Oh, also, anybody remember those days on AIM when annoying little IM windows popped up and advertised their webcams and websites with provocative or innocent text? Yeah, um, I think Xanga has been hit with automated Xanga sites. "caddyflirt" left a comment on my last post, and I deleted it. (My first sign of the fact that it probably wasn't a real person was that she said that I had a nice profile. Sigh, sigh, sigh. Must get to work on that eventually.)

Anyway, the woman is in Texas right now. I'm here. Crap.

I leave you with this: yar.

[automated voice] Good night, and have a nice day tomorrow. [/automated voice]

Mogwai.

Thom Yorke.

Radiohead.

'Nuff said.

An Update to Rather Start the Slate Anew, and More Ramblings of the Ozymandias Derivitive

As with every aspect of life, a counterbalance exists. A boy dashes daringly into the brave new world of quasi-adulthood, while many of his companions have already reached their age all too soon; a coming-of-prospect emerges.

I have had time to ponder upon that which ponders upon me. I have had time to speak to Earth; and in practice, I have managed to speak to myself. The muster that has equipped the boy must not shake. The muster must stay strong, stay confident. A coming-of-prospect receives.

So, patient I am. Blessed is the boy who wanders his palace with questioning eyes, but more blessed is the one brave enough to confront his peace. A coming-of prospect redeems.

I sought an imagination for all too long. I realize, now, that an imagination is part of the human spirit. It is what makes the being question all. The boy realizes his double-edged sword has great potential. The boy seeks to use it for good, but for every stroke of demolition he takes, he opens a scar across his back, for, when swung the wrong way, a double-edged sword can kill its owner. A coming-of-prospect fears.

After looking at information, I often find myself asking a question I feel to most likely be eternal but wretched: what is information? At my heart, I am a dissident. All people, in the end, are dissidents at heart. The boy notices the large blood quarter embedded in his double-edged sword. Blessed is the coming-of-prospect.

My imagination, along with the imaginations of all of the souls of this planet, and most likely the rest of those in the universe, are all separate. Yet, at the same time, imagination is too broad to be ignored. Men try to mend the former side of the boy's sword, while the boy simply smiles. A coming-of-prospect acknowledges.

What is information? A stream of data. No, a stream of consciousness. The river of consciousness that can define aspects of its own existence. The blood quarter in the double-edged sword helped to destroy the rock the sword once was in. A coming-of-prospect is cast.

What is the imagination? It is that of the human spirit. In all earthborne cultures, it cannot be ignored. What allows us to peer within ourselves and allows us to make our images is our imagination. And thus a prophet spoke unto the boy, "Let your heart rest easy." A coming-of-prospect is shaped.

What is the unknown? By defintion, something that is not known. "However," I ask, "what is knowing?" It is confirmation. The boy's home is lit! A coming-of-prospect melds.

The questioning nature of the imagination - for, in order for a question to be asked, one must imagine it, and its possible answers within their own comprehension - relates to that of the solidarity and solidification of information: what is unknown, is imagined. Who doesn't know, is uninformed. And through a circular process, the imaginative become the informed. The boy competes now with the greatest warriors of the land, for he wields his double-edged sword to absolute perfection, and the sunny glare of his magnificent blade can be seen for miles. The coming-of-prospect becomes the prospect.

In many ways, the dragon and the dionsaur are very much in common: both are portrayed as scaly, as fierce, as recognizable and as durable.

Imagination is the portrayer of information. Information is the soul of the imagination. Imagination is the will of information. Information is the steel of imagination.

And throughout the land, the boy became spoken of as legendary. He was recognized, and his image brought fire to the souls of the people, invoking in them a passion never before seen in their eyes nor in their hearts nor in their souls. On his dying bed, the boy began to speak: "Let forth your swords fly, let blood poor from your scars that you will open upon your backs, and let the sides of your sword be used in the will of good; but most importantly must these three be combined and cherished; separately, they do too little. Go forward. You must not behind." And with a mighty sigh, the boy, now a man, rested. The prospect becomes the cherished.

And the one who walks upon the edges of the towers spoke to me, "Be patient."

-E'd.

I have a story to tell you. It explains why my heart is heavy tonight, and a little bit more about my history as a person.

A few years back I joined a message board at a site called GameFAQs (http://www.gamefaqs.com) that covered a game entitled Armored Core 2. This board also had a social board, in which I ventured not long after joining the "regular" board.

Shortly after this, however, was an interesting period. There existed a board called "Life, the Universe, and Everything", and this is what sparked my interest in reading The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and its series. People would look philosophically into things, and assume random conversations just the same. Insightful and humorous, I had a lot of fun on this board.

On this board, there existed a certain individual by the alias "Kuja105". Kuja was, well, a wise person. Very insightful. Was fun to talk to. I never knew him personally, but he was always looked up to, and would always teach the other members something when they did get a little, well, overboard.

Mitchell "Mitch" Lee Stuekerjuergen, alias "Kuja105", committed suicide. He died in the hospital on January 4th, 2006. I just learned of this tonight, thanks to Nick, who also led me to a petition that I will tell you about shortly.

The members of the LUE board, in addition to a "TUS" board, tried desperately to reach him after he mentioned his intentions to end his own life, until eventually an administrator of metalgearsolid.org found contact information leading directly to his phone number, trying to convince him not to kill himself, but Mitchell soon did afterwards.

I will miss you, Kuja.

However, that's not the end of it entirely. It just gets worse.

I don't know if I have the heart even to go on about this. I have to go to bed. I'm sorry. I'll link you all to let you read about it. I can't paraphrase any longer.

http://blog.myspace.com/22499574

Please read it all the way through. Please.

I feel this is far overdue. A shoutout to some of those who reign in supreme rule over the galaxy with me:

For you and all who question you, Amanda:

The value of a pursuit should not be defined by physicality; it should be defined by the ideas as its foundation and principles and, over all, above everything, in spirit. I'm behind you one hundred percent on your decision to pursue what you want to pursue.

Kayte, you're not stupid, even though you, for some reason, really want to believe that you are. Trust a second opinion, eh? And if not, a third and a fourth and so on, because I'm sure that everyone that is reading this right now agrees with the fact that you are an intelligent person. You're one of the smartest, sweetest, kindest and most beautiful girls I've ever been fortunate enough to have met, and you instill awe in me everytime I see you. And I'm still super proud of you on your score.

Joy, those freaking Fotens are fierce, but not fierce enough to disrupt the random conversations that you and I have. Duck the laser beams from the Fotens, use your ninja skills to defeat them, and keep being a sensational friend. 

Josh, keep playing de guitar. You're improving drastically every day, and if you keep on practicing at the rate you are you'll be one of the best.

Diana, you've been a great friend throughout the years, and we can always talk about one thing or another. I hope that we can continue to talk even after you graduate, because a Jedi without a lightsaber can only hope to use a depletable blaster rifle. (Translation: I will miss you!)

Morgan, the tried and true "FUZZEH" shall remain immortal. I thank you for co-producing an immortal joke whole-heartedly.

Kacy, you have been an incredible friend, and I hope to always see you and have an opportunity to poke...I mean, uh, speak...with you. W00t!

To all of you: Thank you for making my life so much of a wondertrip. It's become more than a life because of you, and I cannot help but be overjoyed that I am in this place and in this time, and I would do anything for all of you.

Until next time, folks. I tipsy my hat.