Tag: old

It still took years for me to let go of learned patterns of behavior that negated my capacity to give and receive love. One pattern that made the practice of love especially difficult was my constantly choosing to be with men who were emotionally wounded, who were not that interested in loving, even though they desired to be loved. I wanted to know love but was afraid to be intimate. By choosing men who were not interested in being loving, I was able to practice giving love but always within an unfulfilling context. Naturally, my need to receive love was not met. I got what I was accustomed to getting. Care and affection, usually mingled with a degree of unkindness, neglect, and on some occasions, out right cruelty.

bell hooks

It still took years for me to let go of learned patterns of behavior that negated my capacity to give and receive love. One pattern that made the practice of love especially difficult was my constantly choosing to be with men who were emotionally wounded, who were not that interested in loving, even though they desired to be loved. I wanted to know love but was afraid to be intimate. By choosing men who were not interested in being loving, I was able to practice giving love but always within an unfulfilling context. Naturally, my need to receive love was not met. I got what I was accustomed to getting. Care and affection, usually mingled with a degree of unkindness, neglect, and on some occasions, out right cruelty.

bell hooks

My shirts reek. Smokers are wearing thin on me. This laundry laziness is getting out of hand. I had a cleaning lady, once. She did a good job. I forget how much I paid her but it wasn’t much. Pittance. She did damn good. I never had to fuck with the bathroom. She came by once a month. I did my laundry then, which wasn’t a problem. Not until that January in ‘08. The worst of times begins in August and ends in February. Not because it’s cold, but because of memories. They gather up in winter. All of them.

Of all the smiley fuckin’ faces, winkey face is the worst. The absolute worst.

I read this story about a dad and son who play a video game about a character who strives for nothingness. Contrast immediately. Mention of Walmart. Decidedly modern. Considered what I may have read that was more “classic” or “universal” but c’est la vie and all that.

Are video games really as niche?

“In games, where it was so often so easy to lose perspective, but also in life.” This line was not necessary. This story could’ve been a parable. I’m going to be thinking about it the whole way through.

“The ill-gotten fruits of not being and not knowing.” Is this an attack on denial of responsibility? Is existence an acceptance of the responsibility to exist?

The Road is about a father and son. Its style is more barren. Prose to match the landscape. Their journey is one for survival. Literal life and death. This one’s father and son are also on a journey. Is it metaphysical? Is their journey towards completion of the game—towards not being—also about survival? The title is plural. They’re in it together. They’re mapping the world towards the goal of nonexistence.

Why is the character in the game a woman? Aping Metroid’s protagonist? How do things change when the lead is a female? How does this affect the perception of it?

The first moment of understanding is the loss of her wings. She is a bird girl and then she is weighed down by her choice to don the metal boots. Their choice, not hers. She can’t take them off. She loses her flight before she loses the added weight.

In Shadow of the Colossus, the player character goes on a journey of sacrifice. Double-edged sword: sacrifice the creatures, sacrifice your humanity. He becomes a monstrous doppelganger of himself. The gargoyle’s significance. Why must it look like Alicia but with horns and healthy wings? As she sacrifices, others gain strength? Laughing in her face? Aesthetic choices on the author’s part, probably. From a game design standpoint, you simply reuse what you have. One less in-game art asset to design from scratch.

Cheddar scabs are fucking great.

“where dollars and coins flew at Alicia from all sides and clung to her body, briefly rebuilding her wings in their own green image.” Money is only a temporary fix for permanent problems. Okay.

The dirt clod beneath the chamber of commerce. The dirt clod beneath the chamber of commerce. The dirt clod. The chamber of commerce. The dirt. The chamber of commerce. The dirt and the chamber of commerce. The chamber of commerce. Dirt and commerce. Dirt and money.

Kill the orchestra. Kill the music. Kill art. Silence.

This kid’s dialogue makes him seem older in places, younger in others. Wonder if that’s intentional.

Looking for a replacement for mother?

Perhaps the dialogue is indicative. Joshua’s getting older. He’s learning things.

You forget fear. You forget love.

To be, then, is to forget. To be is to not know you are.

Waiting.

My shirts reek. Smokers are wearing thin on me. This laundry laziness is getting out of hand. I had a cleaning lady, once. She did a good job. I forget how much I paid her but it wasn’t much. Pittance. She did damn good. I never had to fuck with the bathroom. She came by once a month. I did my laundry then, which wasn’t a problem. Not until that January in ‘08. The worst of times begins in August and ends in February. Not because it’s cold, but because of memories. They gather up in winter. All of them.

Of all the smiley fuckin’ faces, winkey face is the worst. The absolute worst.

I read this story about a dad and son who play a video game about a character who strives for nothingness. Contrast immediately. Mention of Walmart. Decidedly modern. Considered what I may have read that was more “classic” or “universal” but c’est la vie and all that.

Are video games really as niche?

“In games, where it was so often so easy to lose perspective, but also in life.” This line was not necessary. This story could’ve been a parable. I’m going to be thinking about it the whole way through.

“The ill-gotten fruits of not being and not knowing.” Is this an attack on denial of responsibility? Is existence an acceptance of the responsibility to exist?

The Road is about a father and son. Its style is more barren. Prose to match the landscape. Their journey is one for survival. Literal life and death. This one’s father and son are also on a journey. Is it metaphysical? Is their journey towards completion of the game—towards not being—also about survival? The title is plural. They’re in it together. They’re mapping the world towards the goal of nonexistence.

Why is the character in the game a woman? Aping Metroid’s protagonist? How do things change when the lead is a female? How does this affect the perception of it?

The first moment of understanding is the loss of her wings. She is a bird girl and then she is weighed down by her choice to don the metal boots. Their choice, not hers. She can’t take them off. She loses her flight before she loses the added weight.

In Shadow of the Colossus, the player character goes on a journey of sacrifice. Double-edged sword: sacrifice the creatures, sacrifice your humanity. He becomes a monstrous doppelganger of himself. The gargoyle’s significance. Why must it look like Alicia but with horns and healthy wings? As she sacrifices, others gain strength? Laughing in her face? Aesthetic choices on the author’s part, probably. From a game design standpoint, you simply reuse what you have. One less in-game art asset to design from scratch.

Cheddar scabs are fucking great.

“where dollars and coins flew at Alicia from all sides and clung to her body, briefly rebuilding her wings in their own green image.” Money is only a temporary fix for permanent problems. Okay.

The dirt clod beneath the chamber of commerce. The dirt clod beneath the chamber of commerce. The dirt clod. The chamber of commerce. The dirt. The chamber of commerce. The dirt and the chamber of commerce. The chamber of commerce. Dirt and commerce. Dirt and money.

Kill the orchestra. Kill the music. Kill art. Silence.

This kid’s dialogue makes him seem older in places, younger in others. Wonder if that’s intentional.

Looking for a replacement for mother?

Perhaps the dialogue is indicative. Joshua’s getting older. He’s learning things.

You forget fear. You forget love.

To be, then, is to forget. To be is to not know you are.

Waiting.

My romantic nature is florid, verbose, and generally unnecessary.

We submitted to MS and Sony on Friday. It’s done. One more notch and another credit. I can’t explain it, but seeing my name in the credits appeals to me. I don’t care who else sees it. I joke that in spite of everything, I have the list of credits to my name. Almost nine years now. Whether I stay in this industry or go elsewheres, there they are. I suspect it’s the written aspect of it. My history documented, like names in a census. I existed. There’s a trace to follow. That’s important.

I’ve been writing various things and getting adulation for it. Bitches love writing. Though I don’t like their written forthrightness. It repels me from people I’d otherwise like to meet. When you contact someone you’re setting a precedent. Be kind, I suppose, but don’t take it seriously. You like me? That’s fine. Show me when I’m sitting across from you at an obligatory coffee meet/date.

Speaking of nerds, I’m taking a girl out on a date to see The Hobbit on my birthday.

My romantic nature is florid, verbose, and generally unnecessary.

We submitted to MS and Sony on Friday. It’s done. One more notch and another credit. I can’t explain it, but seeing my name in the credits appeals to me. I don’t care who else sees it. I joke that in spite of everything, I have the list of credits to my name. Almost nine years now. Whether I stay in this industry or go elsewheres, there they are. I suspect it’s the written aspect of it. My history documented, like names in a census. I existed. There’s a trace to follow. That’s important.

I’ve been writing various things and getting adulation for it. Bitches love writing. Though I don’t like their written forthrightness. It repels me from people I’d otherwise like to meet. When you contact someone you’re setting a precedent. Be kind, I suppose, but don’t take it seriously. You like me? That’s fine. Show me when I’m sitting across from you at an obligatory coffee meet/date.

Speaking of nerds, I’m taking a girl out on a date to see The Hobbit on my birthday.

They’re gorgeous by virtue of being with me. There’s nothing for it and I don’t accept arguments to the contrary.

My black and white nature is guiding me these days and, more importantly, inhibiting my creativity; my productivity suffers. Unacceptable. I’ve connected with people and applied to get the job I want through all the channels I can think of. Employed my innate ability to find hard-to-find information on the internet. I think I’ll have to move up to the city, which’d be new. And expensive. Sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of satisfaction.

This new girl I called off backpage wasn’t shy about digging her fingers into my stomach to tell me I should lose weight. I had to demonstrate honesty first, so I told her her stretch marks were like the tributaries of a river. Striations in the land. Meant to be explored. It’s in the telling when you say things like that. You’ll make a fool of yourself if you don’t mean them. She pointed out that my dick would be much more impressive if that pubic fat wasn’t there. When I told her I’d had issues with my right arm going numb she seem genuinely concerned. I took it on faith that she was. I told her to stay although I wasn’t sure if I could muster any more of my energy. I couldn’t afford too many hours, but I wanted the female company just then. She went to shower and I slapped my stomach. I suppose I have gotten too fat again. Parts of me are taut and others soft. My ass like the proverbial wad of dough. I stretched in front of the wall mirror and decided, sure, I could go again.

They’re gorgeous by virtue of being with me. There’s nothing for it and I don’t accept arguments to the contrary.

My black and white nature is guiding me these days and, more importantly, inhibiting my creativity; my productivity suffers. Unacceptable. I’ve connected with people and applied to get the job I want through all the channels I can think of. Employed my innate ability to find hard-to-find information on the internet. I think I’ll have to move up to the city, which’d be new. And expensive. Sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of satisfaction.

This new girl I called off backpage wasn’t shy about digging her fingers into my stomach to tell me I should lose weight. I had to demonstrate honesty first, so I told her her stretch marks were like the tributaries of a river. Striations in the land. Meant to be explored. It’s in the telling when you say things like that. You’ll make a fool of yourself if you don’t mean them. She pointed out that my dick would be much more impressive if that pubic fat wasn’t there. When I told her I’d had issues with my right arm going numb she seem genuinely concerned. I took it on faith that she was. I told her to stay although I wasn’t sure if I could muster any more of my energy. I couldn’t afford too many hours, but I wanted the female company just then. She went to shower and I slapped my stomach. I suppose I have gotten too fat again. Parts of me are taut and others soft. My ass like the proverbial wad of dough. I stretched in front of the wall mirror and decided, sure, I could go again.