I've got the writing itch again after quite a long time. I suppose if I ignore it it should go away soon enough.


I'd like to be able to do something about it though. If anyone knows anyone interested in collaborating on a story, I'd be interested in at the very least bouncing ideas off people. I could do it alone but I feel I work better and have more fun if I can get others involved and excited.


I've got a name, "Dry Chill".
Genre: Most-likely horror/suspense
Setting: [Location undecided], a large old cabin in the middle of a snowstorm (Windows blurred with slush and ice yet still letting some light in).

The cabin is rather dark with only a little natural light from the windows. The air inside is cold but dry. The halls are ominously quiet, save for the wind howling around the outside.


Where it goes from there...I have no idea. I just know, for whatever reason this setting jumped out at me.

Got some old stuff I grabbed over my Christmas break, gonna be uploading what I can this weekend. Keep an eye out!

gathamarblack.bandcamp.com

Recently acquired an adopt character, want to turn it into a reference for an existing character.

Not a visual artist myself by any means. Not really ANY sort of artist for that matter, but that's neither here nor there.


If someone were able to work off a copy of the original image I would pay.

It was a computer class working with AutoCAD Inventor, not too difficult.

Was checking my school email and saw some stuff about the semester I've just finished.

Note: The instructor said several times there wasn't going to be an actual exam but rather a final project.

Email from the instructor to several members of the class about comments on an online exam they didn't take. Sure enough, the only real graded assignment listed ONLINE (the rest were all in-class work) was some sort of exam. 0% grade.


GG, SKOOL.


(But seriously, the program I'm in is just absolutely fucked.)

So my laptop's battery is refusing to charge now. Saved a little juice for emergencies, maybe only ten minute's worth. A friend who I trust with all my technology issues has ordered a replacement but it's going to be some time before it arrives. Right now it's on the other side of the country.

Thus, I'm back on the dinosaur. For...reasons. All my games and such are on my laptop though, so it's only the small comfort of email and youtube for now.



I hadn't intended to write a journal about this, but something about being back on the computer where all the awkwardness and cringe that make up the little bit that people know about my account began made me decide to spam and bitch about nothing in particular.

Why? Because they were supposedly not my own content but rather ripped off (think copyright infringement or somesuch).

I'm okay with part of this, as the Cyanide and Happiness random comics were removed. I understand that those may not fly under FA's rules.

But at the same time, other things like links to my old music pages were taken down. I can see them being hit for using the logo of Soundcloud or Bandcamp, but otherwise I see nothing wrong with those posts.


I'm not sure if I should even try to debate the matter. I'm not even sure if anybody's reading this. I AM sure that nobody gives a hoot, and I AM sure that the internet's gonna be fucked soon anyways.


Well ain't life just a bag a' dicks.

It is the year 2255. Humanity has come under attack by a race known only as “The Order”. War rages throughout the galaxy as The Order seeks to assert itself as an intergalactic empire. The forces of humanity are gravely outmatched, unable to support a losing battle. In a desperate attempt to gain an upper hand, the Galactic Council of Human Systems has dispatched pockets of specially trained operatives to the front lines. Upon their capture by The Order, these operatives are placed in “holding districts” as prisoners. Here, behind enemy lines, these operatives gather intel and perform a combination of precision and guerrilla strikes against The Order.

When not engaging the enemy, many prisoners feel it wise to keep their wits sharpened. Rex, the leader of cell 13, has devised a simple game to test reflexes and hand-eye coordination. Aside from a way to pass time in the district, this game also serves as a means of passing coded messages between cells.

This game offers two methods of play. You can test your skill against another cellmate in friendly competition, or you can face off against the district’s cyber-security. Competitive games offer no reward, but battling the security will allow messages through our channels. Just be cautious of the T.A.X. …

In among the stacks of boxes,
Where dark and twisted shapes converge
To hide the mind its toxins lethal;
Here is where fear is observed.

Dust and cobwebs, bits of glass,
Yellowed pages reek of mold,
Rubber seals that smell of gas;
Here is kept the hate of old.

Broken lightbulbs, sticky floor,
Posters curling off the door,
Figments, fragments, nevermore,
All this wretchedness abhor.

Some things are best left forgotten,
Thrown in trash bags, discard piles
Topple, bursting, rent, disgorging,
Recoils the mind as it reviles.

Filth and waste, sling and smear,
Dig the trenches deep and wide,
Even now the pain condenses,
Darkness, hungry, begs a taste.

Hark, footfalls, someone approaches,
In bile-thick darkness cannot see;
Flicks a lightswitch roaches scatter--
Come and see just what's the matter.

Who is this repulsive creature,
Bringing light where darkness dwells?
"HERETIC!" the massless shriek,
groping, clawing, tear the soul.

Well, the people I'm closest to have said some things that in my opinion should have been said much sooner.

When your friends tell you "We've been lying to you about this for a while, we've been making excuses to cover for it", certain gears start turning in different directions.

I'm likely just making a mountain out of a molehill as I always do, but I'm getting the impression my friends don't like me any more.

I'd like to take my toys and go home in a huff to make a show of things, but they've already left the metaphorical playground and it looks like it's about to rain.


I hate people.

...I hate EVERYBODY.

So I've got a cold. Think the worst has passed, though I'm worried.

I can feel it. I know when I'm about to have a fever dream. (I'm sure it's not that hard or uncommon.) Everything feels just a bit wrong, just a bit off. I've grown bored of anything I've tried to do today to entertain myself due to this weird feeling and now all I want to do is go to bed.

Yet I know as soon as I do I'm going to have a terrible time sleeping as my system tries to fight off the last bit of whatever this is.

I know it may sound silly or like my usual brand of bitchy attention-whoring, but the only thing that really helps at a time like this is a hug. Aye, there's the rub; I'm alone at school.

I enjoy listening to movie and videogame soundtracks on youtube. After a while of listening to some favorites frequently, they begin to get a little stale. Thus, to mix things up I often look for covers. Usually there's a good handful of videos, but there's a few soundtracks in particular that I feel have been overshadowed.


If I mention "Mad Max Soundtrack", I bet you'd think of the dump truck drums and the Doof Wagon from Fury Road. Yet I actually refer to the soundtracks of say, the original Mad Max, The Road Warrior, or maybe even Beyond Thunderdome.


Yet looking for covers from those original three yields nothing but Fury Road covers and remixes. I understand that the music from Fury Road is very iconic and well-received, but what of the originals?


These are the average thoughts I have day-to-day.

I enjoy listening to movie and videogame soundtracks on youtube. After a while of listening to some favorites frequently, they begin to get a little stale. Thus, to mix things up I often look for covers. Usually there's a good handful of videos, but there's a few soundtracks in particular that I feel have been overshadowed.


If I mention "Mad Max Soundtrack", I bet you'd think of the dump truck drums and the Doof Wagon from Fury Road. Yet I actually refer to the soundtracks of say, the original Mad Max, The Road Warrior, or maybe even Beyond Thunderdome.


Yet looking for covers from those original three yields nothing but Fury Road covers and remixes. I understand that the music from Fury Road is very iconic and well-received, but what of the originals?


These are the average thoughts I have day-to-day.

So some stuff has gone pretty sideways on me and I'm not sure how to deal with it.

I'd appreciate someone to talk to if anybody's out there.

A few weeks ago, around the time of my birthday, I came up with the idea to do something a bit different. The idea was to have my mom watch and try to play some of my videogames. I suppose I thought she might be able to enjoy and view them in at least a similar manner to my own.

Skip to today, we finally acted on the idea. I laid out several games from each system, having her pick a "most interesting" and "least interesting" selection from each console to try and gauge her views. (Granted, she'd seen me play a few of the games before and admitted that influenced some of her selections.) She stayed away from anything that looked too violent (RAGE, Brink, Mad Max, etc.). Finally I had her select one or two games from each console that she'd like to watch a little of.

At the end of it all, we had planned to play together on the first Little Big Planet and "cow racing" (One of the ancient mini-games from the Wii Play collection and one of the only "games" she's shown any interest in aside from Uncharted, enjoying the fact that it feels like watching a movie).

We ran out of time for the multiplayer games, but I'm actually relieved we did. I can't really say what I expected from trying this, but it just felt weak, for lack of a better word. The most interest shown for many games was "Oh, I remember seeing you play some of this" or such along those lines. She WAS excited about Wii sports and Wii Play at least.


Looking back, I think what I may have been looking for was a way to reach out to my parents through something I enjoyed, hoping they too could enjoy the games. I've never really been close with my parents, aside from the fact that they ARE my PARENTS. We've never really done much together, at least nothing I'm very interested in. I often go target-shooting with my dad, I suppose that's something.

I guess it's just not possible for someone else to enjoy something in EXACTLY the same way as I do, though I suppose I was hoping for something coming close to that. Such a thought saddens me.

So I recently got an Xbox One, as I've wanted to play through the Gears of War and Halo franchises.

System came with a code for Gears of War: Ultimate Edition. Played through it, wanted to get the second one. Saw it was $20 in the store, went to purchase. Had exact change in my account, but info says that account balance can't be used for the purchase. Put in my credit card info, go back to the store, still says I have no payment information on file to use and won't let me buy it. There's an option to change payment info, but that takes me right back to the microsoft account where I've already got my card info (Though it IS listed as "Currently used for: None").

Figured maybe I needed Xbox Live to get games or somesuch (I'm new to Xbox stuff, bear with me if I'm wrong) so I activated the 14-day free trial code that came with the system. Still the same issue; Can't use the money on my account, can't access my credit card even though it's on file.




TL:DL

Well I'll be damned if this Xbox ain't tryin' to shove a fat one up my bunghole. (This is why I've stuck with Playstation or Nintendo.)

So I wanted to watch a movie last night. Found it on Amazon and rented it. Went to go watch it via my PS4....

....but my TV wouldn't turn on.

Tried everything I could think of, pretty sure the remote's run out of batteries.

"But Gathamar, can't you just push the power button on the TV itself?"

Oh, trust me. I'd love to. IF IT FUCKING HAD ONE.

I shit you not, there are no actual buttons on the TV itself.

Thus, I watched my movie on my laptop instead, only to lose interest partway through and go to bed.




Fast forward to now.

Decided to go play a game. Turn on the system, go to turn the TV on...shit.

I'm essentially stuck with just my laptop until Wednesday, and even then, moving home is gonna be the mother of all clusterfucks.

Sometimes I hate my life.

I've wanted to continue the formation of some ideas lately. For a while they almost wrote themselves, things came together naturally. Now it's rather difficult. I have plenty of small pieces, but none fit together.

I've attempted to ask people on FA for inspiration before, but it's like talking to a wall. Don't really have anywhere else to look either.

Thus, if anybody has an idea for a site where I could make a sort of new start...


I suppose deaf ears don't care.

You want disappointment? Gearbox delivers in spades.

Generate hype, will you? Blueball fans at Pax for the SECOND time, will you?

Goddamit, Pitchford. It's time to shit or get off the pot.

I could have sworn I heard it somewhere and remembered what it was from, but I've lost it.

It was a movie. Potentially a western? I've managed to rule out one or two movies as incorrect.


Can't think of any other details, other than it was a dramatic fighting scene, near the end.

(NO, not any of the spaghetti westerns. I'd know if it was one of those.)

https://gathamarblack.bandcamp.com/.....ty-fairy-tales

I'M A F*CKIN' WIZARD

He awoke, realizing that at last he must have fallen asleep.
Uncertain of just what it was that roused him, he fumbled for the knob of the lamp beside him.
The faint click brought a single fleeting second of peace before he realized the light was not working.
He could feel eyes on him from someone very close by.
The hair on the back of his neck was raised as a chill ran down his spine.
In panic, he froze.
The only thought in his head was to remain absolutely still.
As he waited, his mind tried to wrap itself around how exactly he had drifted off.
Had the sleeping pills finally taken effect?
He had forgotten to take one.
As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he was able to make out the glass of water on the table.
The lid was still on the pill bottle.
Yet the bottle was empty.
He felt a cold sweat breaking across his forehead.
It was at that moment he realized the door was open.
He strained to hear even the smallest sound out of place.
Seconds turned to minutes as the droplets rolled down the side of his face.
Outside, he could hear the leaves rustling, the faint sound of the highway, a distant siren.
As the pounding of his heard slowly dimmed from his ears, he held his breath.
Was his mind playing tricks on him again, or did he hear faint breathing from the hall?
Willing his eyes open, he forced himself to stare into the open doorway.
Goosebumps rippled across his arms as he searched the inky blackness for even a hint of movement.
Everything was so peaceful, yet everything felt so still.
He could hear the breathing.
He could sense a presence.
In that moment, he felt an insomniatic fear like never before.
Summoning what little courage he could muster, he called out.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
If there was someone there, why would they answer?
There was someone there.
He could hear the breathing.
The sleeping pills were gone.
The light didn't work.
He could feel his heart starting to race once more.
The room itself seemed to expand and contract with each of his faint breaths.
He was half-expecting to see some nightmarish creature crawling up over the covers.
This wasn't sleep paralysis, was it?
He could move his arms, but his legs refused to budge.
His instincts would not let him leave the bed.
Once more, he strained to see or hear anything.
He held his breath, waiting.
Finally his raw fear got the better of him.
His voice cracked as he nearly shrieked.
"Who are you?"
As he waited, he realized how comforting it would feel if something actually did happen.
The silence and the stillness were beginning to fray his nerves.

At that moment, there came a faint voice from the darkness, the very same which had roused him.
"Wake up."

I'm still here.

I've never left, to be honest. No matter what you think, you can't get rid of me that easily.

You can't see me, but I'm there. Between the walls, under the floorboards, within the boxes in the attic. I'm there, and I can hear you. It may be somewhat selectively, but I've been listening.

I'm surprised you haven't noticed yet. I've made myself evident. Just the other day I turned the head of the scarecrow to gaze into the kitchen window at you. I've warped the doors so they won't close properly. I've even opened the windows while you were sleeping.

You may have refused to acknowledge me, but it changes nothing. I'm here in the walls, under the floor, listening. Waiting.

You can't get rid of me. You've ignored me to no avail, only to make me angry. And oh, how angry I am.

And I'm still here.

Just comment. All I need is a word. A SINGLE WORD. I'll take more than that if any of you are feeling generous, but I only need a word. Any word. Maybe you've got memes on the brain and pick out "Spaghetti". I can certainly work with that, but it won't be what you think. In goes "Spaghetti", out comes...something completely different. ...no, not another word. The output of this process is of a different medium. The process itself may take some time, anywhere from an afternoon to a week, depending on several factors, namely quality and availability of resources.

I know nobody reads my journals any more, or if you do you just ignore them, that's what everybody does to the little people on FA. But this isn't about that, this is about something more exciting. I just need you to contribute one word. Any word will do just fine.

If you yourself happen to look at this and give no thought to it, WAIT! Before just dumping it with the rest of the dumb journals you likely wade through, send it to a friend who might want to contribute one word. Please. Any contribution, even if it's something as simple as "booger", will help immensely. Again, I beg you. Please don't disregard this journal. It may take a while to assemble the output, but in the end it will have been worth the wait.

Thus again I ask PLEASE. Spare a word, a single word, or at the very least pass this off to someone else.



If you happen to just ignore this, shame on you! I've asked nicely, I've begged, and I've pleaded. You won't even give a single "fuck". Are you such a bystander, such a pedestrian? Sure, I could get these words elsewhere, but where's the fun in that? I'm looking to build some sort of interaction with the few people who are still here and still sane. I know you're out there! So say something! "Talk", damn you! There's no interaction to be had with a word generator. You can't make friends with a machine.

otosotd.x10host.com

Enjoy.

I've fallen into the tradition of ordering a pizza every saturday. Usually not a problem, alternating between domino's and Hungry Howie's.

Yesterday I tried to order some Howie's, but my card got declined. No processing, just declined, no reason given. Checked my account and everything looked fine. Tried domino's, worked perfectly, settled for that.

Still got a hankerin' for some Howie's, figured I'd try again today. I select the place I usually order from, seeing that it's open until 11PM. I'm about to order when I see STORE CLOSED at the top of the page. A bit confused, I try the other HH location in town. STORE CLOSED.

At this point I'm confused and decide to move on to Cottage Inn. Like their pizza but trying to figure out their delivery is weird.

I select the one I think is closest out of the two. I check their delivery zone map, turns out EMU is JUST outside their zone. Select the other one to check its range. Before I can even do that, a popup message comes up, talking about how the store's not delivering tonight due to the tiny amount of snow we've got, citing driver safety. If you live in Michigan and can't drive in maybe an inch of snow at most, you're fucked six ways from sunday.


Speaking of fucked, now I'm pissed so far off the handle, down the lane and around the damn corner...


I just wanted a pizza. And I got dick. I got pizza-dick.

All I feel is hate.