So there's this thing, it's called real life. It can really suck when you're being hunted like a gazelle by a psychopathic tiger with the ability to teleport and people are watching you while you try to make a blog post. Take right now, for instance. There's loads and loads of free chairs in the area I'm at, and this girl sits right next to me. I mean right in front of where I left my empty coffee cup and all. Not complaining, she has the right to sit wherever the hell she wants, but come on; what are the damn odds?
Here I am, sitting alone and watching some funny videos before class, and suddenly: BAM. Ah well. Hope things keep the nominal level of sanity they've been at for the past few days. Oh, time check. It's currently 7:43 A.M., EST. I'm trying to keep track of the time due to the fact that, apparently, our friend has the ability to give people lost time when he touches them. Also seems to move them during the interim. Kind of reminds me of an alien abduction in the old movies, you know, where the unsuspecting citizen just gets grabbed out of nowhere, taken up to the saucer, probed, then placed somewhere random after a few hours or days.
So what's the point of this post? Good question, PLAYERs. The point is that I am currently unsure as to whether or not I have a class to go to, and the anxiety is building to the point where writing my thoughts down is actually kind of helpful. Calming, even. I feel like whatever weird crap is going on seems to suspend itself while I take my time, gather my thoughts, and spill them out here for you to laugh at. Sure, it's funny, why not laugh? Look at the weirdo talking about some stalker he has and how he can't even decide on a pronoun for the thing. Tons of hearty ha-has for everyone.
I'm sure there are many of you out there wondering what the point of playing the game is. Wondering what the point of being a PLAYER is. Wondering what the devil I'm talking about when I go on about blood. It's complicated. I know, that is such a cop-out answer, and I realize it, though the trouble with that is the damn thing is the proper answer for now. I can't really explain because it isn't time to explain it. It's... it's like trying to explain to people in the 1930's why you traveled back in time and you have all this cool stuff but you can't kill Hitler for some reason. It sucks, but there's a reason. You just need to trust that there will be an explanation in due time.
Q and A keys aren't sticking as much as they were. So that's good. Something for me to be happy about. 7:54 AM. I'm going to try to make these time checks in 10 minute intervals. I thought about doing them in 5 minute intervals, but when you're writing it's hard to keep track of the time. You just get in the zone and don't really pay much attention to anything else while you're doing it. I'm sure many of you bloggers out there know what I'm talking about. It's like an addiction that way, you don't have much to say but you don't want to stop, either. Hell, in a way it forces you to come up with excess crap to talk about just so you don't have to stop. Speaking of excess...
Haven't really seen him (IT) in awhile. And now another person comes to sit right next to me. What is it with this area and people wanting to sit here? This guy at least has a netbook, so he's got an excuse, but whatserface just sat here for I have no idea why. It's kind of annoying, like your privacy is being invaded even though they're not really doing anything. Merely by letting them hear the keystrokes, they are essentially dropping in on a conversation which I would rather they not hear (for obvious reasons). Do they even know how much trouble they could be getting themselves into if they so much as glanced at the screen and read the wrong thing, spurring them to do their own research and dooming themselves to a life of fear and paranoia?
8 A.M., slightly past the dot. The autosave feature keeps lagging my keystrokes due to the number of tabs I keep open. Just closed a few, hopefully that takes care of it.
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Phone call. Mom. Always an annoyance to talk with her. It seems like a heartless thing to say, but seriously, after awhile you just cant help but acquire a sense of impatience whenever your Mom calls to check in on whether you've remembered to bring your phone with you... by calling you on your phone. It's not that I don't love her, she's just become utterly annoying to talk to. Her voice has a grating quality to it which makes you want to hang up as fast as you can, and her speech patterns don't help her case. Moving on.
Headache. Good. That'll keep me focused... maybe. Either that or annoy me to the point where I need to lie down for a bit and contemplate the finer points of drug usage. I'm at that period of one's life when you're supposed to be abusing illicit substances, apparently, but I never really took an interest in it. It's not like I'm some goody two shoes, I like a fine cigar and a good bourbon as much as the next guy, I just never really thought losing control of my mind any more than I already have seemed like a good idea. I've seen that happen before when I had too much to drink and acted like a buffoon. Never as good a time as I imagined it would be.
8:10 A.M. Some woman sitting behind me is talking loudly on her cell phone. I know she's talking loudly because I'm wearing noise-muffling headphones and I can hear her clearly. The girl who sat next to me earlier is highlighting things in a textbook and the netbook user is sliding his finger around his trackpad in that "Yeah, I'm cooler than you" fashion we laptop users do. Headache has calmed down a bit. I don't know when I started writing like Rorschach from Watchmen, but at least I'm able to keep my grammar intact.
Thought I saw something. Something (HIM) outside the window. Was probably nothing (ITWASNT). Oh good, little parenthetical insanity writing, I missed you. It happens sometimes, in short bursts, but for the most part I manage to keep whatever part of me that does that from... doing that. It's kind of like an anti-censor, something that's trying to make me see things that aren't there. Remember the typos from the earlier posts? That was me trying to keep these things from showing up. It gets kind of annoying after awhile, so I usually let them do their own thing.
Breakfast was kind of small. Thought I would be able to do a bit better than a McMuffin, hashbrown and coffee, but then I remembered I needed money for lunch. $8 should be able to get me through to 4 PM. Oh, speaking of time, 8:21 A.M. Damn near forgot. Starting to slow down and forget just what I'm doing. Feeling a bit groggy, and now here comes some jackass to take up two fucking chairs for himself. There's an island in the middle here, but he needs an extra chair even though it's completely clear save Netbook's trash. Meh. If it keeps other people from coming over here, take up as many chairs as you can guy.
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Where was I... oh yeah, lunch. Lot of good places to eat downtown, though on $8 you must be kidding yourself if you think you're doing anything fancier than Subway or Tin Drum. At least the university has their own free movie theater here. My asylum from the unwashed masses and the bane of my GPA, I've spent many an hour in there, watching, sleeping, experiencing cinematic masterpieces the way they were supposed to be seen. If you've only seen Taxi Driver on a TV, even a widescreen, you haven't seen anything. De Niro is a fucking God on that screen, and I never truly understood until I sat through it all the way; uninterrupted, no commercials, no phone calls from assholes trying to sell you something during it, just pure entertainment.
I've been on a video game binge for the most part lately, mainly because I just can't seem to get into anything else. I can work, sure; if you can't work you're worthless, after all. But in terms of watching TV, or listening to music, even books haven't had that same punch they'd been gaining back. There's just something special about knowing you have an integral role in making your entertainment happen in some way. It reminds me of when I took theater classes, when you would be able to interact with your fellow PLAYERs and
Well. Didn't mean to do that. OK, truth time at 8:32 A.M. I don't know why I'm typing it out PLAYERs. I don't even know what it really means. I also have no iota as to why I started this Blog the way I did. Looking back on it after I posted it, I thought it looked silly. I could barely remember the events of the 23rd. I honestly thought I was dreaming the whole thing when it was happening, and was surprised to see the posts when I checked in the next day. The worst part was when I checked my cell phone and that damn text message was still on there. Received at 10 A.M. on the 23rd. I was planning on making a post on the 24th since I hadn't written anything lately, and surprise, surprise...
Oh, also. blood? I capitalized that when I started writing it. I never changed the color. I just hit "d" and suddenly it changes. No glitchy screen, no real obvious shift, it's just one way one second then blood You see? You see! It did it again! I just blood wasn't even thinking about it and PLAYERs damnit even THAT doesn't work. 8:42 A.M. (DOUBTING) See this shit doesn't fly, me, I don't know why I'm doing this it just keeps blood damnitdamnitdamnit! OK, so that test failed... or passed, depending on what you were expecting. One more try: PLAYERs alright moving on.
Been writing this for an hour now. A whole hour. Good. I'm glad. Maybe this will clear me from having this for the weekend (ITWONT) goddamnit me I am getting sick of your sass. I just wanna go on like before, when I was able to ignore these things. I'm laughing at me. I know it doesn't make sense, but it's like part of me wants to let it (HIM) win. Tough, me, I'm not going to just lie down and take it. I don't really know what's going on, but I think I'm done for now (NO). I'll talk more later (WAIT).
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