31 December 2002

Well done Australia. Well so fucking done, after the majority of the voters here returned old chimpface back to power, on the "tough stance" being taken with regards to refugees. So now you have the nerve to whine and complain that your tax dollars are being used to maintain and rebuild the two detention centres that were just burnt down this week. The very detention centres that were built, extended or fortified by the very government you all swung over to and voted back in on the "tough stand" alone, where the refugees were, and are still being kept within like fucking prisoners, for a length of time much, much too long by even the flimsiest of humane standards, where the days of accumulating desperation has built up to...well, I think you've seen the results already. And now...NOW, you have the fucking NERVE to complain that your dollars are now being used to now rebuild the very same detention centres, that were really just lines of crappy shacks with tin roofs (hardly the holiday camps some of you claimed they were). "I'll have what they're having"...oh, how I'd just love to give you exactly what they actually are having. You're all just pathetic. You people make me fucking SICK.

Gah, I really hate rtrfm's new fangled program guide. No longer a table, now it's just a huge graphic. The chance I had to head on over to the sites of my fave programs just disappeared, went up in smoke, kaboom. Gyaaahhh.

30 December 2002

Well, I suppose the inevitable finally happened and I'm now so disgusted with the fucking playground that #fursuit has become. It must be quite the new fun sport to do there now, the game of "Let's beat up on the depressed kid." In fact, the behaviour of a certain two, after one person left apparently from that channel's apparent lack of manners, was so fucking IMMATURE, I had that overwhelming urge to grab both fucks both by the neck and yell in their faces to fucking well GROW UP. I just cannot stomach the need for a few people who think they have the right to debase and degrade the "target of the hour" by any means necessary, usually in said person's absence...gutless wonders.

All of that, but more from the occasional person exhibiting and/or stuck in the "wrong side of the bed" mood too. Cheer up fools, lest you be stuck with that sour face for the rest of your life.

But...while I do not suffer fools, morons and halfwits, dolts, dunces, dullards and dumbbells, dorks, dweebs and dopes, dimwits, dunderheads, deadheads and dickheads greatly, I'm amongst the last to turn away those in need, even if I don't always show it...though I certainly do tend in that direction, and I sure as fuck stand by that. I'm only going to say this once, but compassion and even the occasional appropriate sympathy, given freely and not extracted, is NOT a weakness DAMMIT. I came from the school of Giveashit.

29 December 2002

Role models of the millenium: William S. Burroughs, Harlan Ellison, Screaming Lord Sutch, Shinji Ikari, Michael Moore, H.G. Nelson, Rampaging Roy Slaven, the two fat ladies, Mark Genge, Maynard, both Mike and Joel, Geoff Harvey, Ross Dunkerton, and definitely, certainly NOT Shane-fucking-Warne.

Anyway, what we really need is a good James Bond movie title-name generator. The titles of the moofies we have already are so predictable and formulaic, it should be a cinch. Three out of 23 movies already contain the word "die", three contain the word "live" (one actually being "living"), three contain the word "gold" and two contain the word "kill". That's almost half of them covered already. But, "On Her Majesty's Secret View to a Kill" just fails. It just does.

28 December 2002

"Never Say Never Again." Has the Bond series well and truly lost the plot (not that it ever needed much of a plot anyway) with this one or what?

25 December 2002

I do happen to be a strong believer in reciprocity, and only ever bother sending christmas cards to those who actually bothered sending me something, be it this year or any other. But since I haven't received anything for quite a few years, why the fuck should I ever bother to mail out anything again? No, you can all get stuffed, piss off, get fucked, drop off a high cliff, etc. But...as for those who have the nerve to even begin to complain that they never got anything off me, well...they'll certainly get a response to put the willies up lesser mortals.

Do I sound just a little bitter? Nahhhhh.

24 December 2002

And remember kids, this is all for your own protection.

18 December 2002

Another nail in the coffin as far as the Perth nightlife and culture that matters goes. The Grosvenor Frontroom was one venue on a very short list of an ever decreasing number of original and local live venues still left, and it usually only takes one PRICK to complain and thus spoil the party for the rest of us, and that is exactly what has happened here. So now the Grosvenor has heaps of noise restrictions placed upon it, and even the possibility of $1000 fines per each excess over the allowed noise limit.

Well done, you fucking selfish prick, whoever you are. Go and give yourself a biiiiig, long pat on the back. Yet another victory for the culture of complaint. Perth culture is a desert at the best of times, and self-centred shits like you may just kill it off for sure. Inner-city living. Sounded a good idea at first, but now...what a complete balls-up.

8 December 2002

It's not often that I happen to come across a person so utterly despicable in their acts, deeds and overall attitude that they immediately forfeit all right to life, but here is one such example.

1 December 2002

Remember the days from a long, long time ago, when Yahoo used to be cool? Not so anymore...now it's just a fucking bloody pain in the ass.

29 November 2002

Ok, so here is a word of advice, in particular directed to the stupid. I may not be one of the most most talkative people around, usually quite the opposite, but there's no way I am ever going to apologize because of it. Of course, there have been a few already who presumed that fact I don't say much as deliberate rudeness or even a malicious snub. Of course, they often quickly come to regret it. Big mistake, fools. I am living with enough of a pressure-cooker personality as it is, coping with all the crap of daily surviving, and certainly don't need any other aggro or whatever to add to it.

Meanwhile, I finally feel well enough to have put in the hardest slog for a gym session that I have done for a couple of months. And shit...today, don't I ever feel sore.

6 November 2002

Well I have improved in mind at least by now...the constantly nagging anxiety has subsided into just dispiriting depression as of now. I have been tempted to start on the aropax again, but sensibly said no to that impulse, so it's on to popping the St. John's wort. My stomach however is playing up as much as ever, three weeks and the ache just will not fucking go. It feels just like any other stomach ache, only it's lasted too damn long already, and the strange thing is that it comes and goes each day. It usually starts to come on again around 1am and all through the morning, and usually clears up after 4pm. It can't be appendicitis as there is no sharp pain from prodding the left side, and don't have black stools either. Even the pills I've been taking for treating acid-reflux disorder for almost a week haven't seemed to have done much. So it's off again for another consult to get back what the blood test says.

16 October 2002

I won't even begin to describe how I feel right now. But simply it's a recurrence of the crisis, if you could call it that, that I had to live through for the last time almost two years ago. To cut it short, it's down to constantly worrying over what I've seen, where I've been and where I'm going inevitably, to the point that I swear sometimes I suspect is what's causing me to feel slightly ill for the first week or so, rather than the other way around. I've been through it enough already to know it's a state of gut-wrenching anxiety, not really depression at all. I usually have on occasions, missed the places that I used to go or hang out at, some of which aren't even there anymore, recalled the times of visiting or passing through places that stick out distinctively in my mind, or of missing favourite radio or TV programs that have long since ceased. Now however, I'm doing it almost to the point of obsession, even when I know I'm making a big deal of matters that usually should be taken for granted, and the feeling of generally wasting my life with nothing at all accomplished during it. It's the feeling of dreading going to bed cause of yet day passing, but being at ease once you get in, and dreading getting out of bed the next morning, because you know that you're going to expect the same cycle all over again.

I suspect possibly being off aropax for several months now may have let this whole condition return, but it also looks like the whole biz of the pc being stuffed up and possibly feeling somewhat sick for the week so far, especially in the mornings did their parts as well. I'm not really going to risk starting to take aropax for the third time, not for actually being on it, but withdrawing when I feel it's time to get off from taking it. I have since meditation up again however, and that certainly does something. Even if I didn't feel exactly clear of the muddled-head, tense mood, I did feel significantly better afterwards, but I can't and shouldn't really expect miracles or cure-alls, I suppose. One day at a time is pretty much the only way to take it from experience, as I know already it does diminish in time. And yeah, I know it must sound somewhat corny, but tough luck on that...knowing that there is love in my world helps to pull through the days. It's not entirely without pluses however. I've tended to be less deep inside myself and a little more willing to reach out, and act a lot less of a prick, as petty matters are suddenly the least of my problems, at least for a whole week or more, and wishing that they'd stay that way. Speaking of such, big shoutouts going out to digi and sf, for assisting me for the previous times I had to endure this feeling in their own way, and for that I was desperate in need of...you know who you are!

10 October 2002

Well, as Murphy's law will have it, things really went to shit this Sunday morning earlier this week. It turns out that a blackout happened then, which lasted from late Saturday night and well into late Sunday morning. I turn on audrey, the computer that is the athlon one, and the one that I use more, with dale holding more of the video, documents and other files. But nothing at all happens, not even the power light coming on. Turns out that sometime between Saturday night and Sunday noontime, a power surge must have happened and which took out the PSU, the HD, the CDROM and I think it fried the mobo too :( So until the whole ugly fucking mess gets seen to, it's back to using dale and all the oh-so-pleasant idiosyncrasies of win98, together with speediness too...or lack of it. Funny thing too, back in 96 when I got dale, it seemed so fast for about 80% of the time, but now, dale just seems so incredibly slooooooow.

Hasn't been a complete disaster of a week though. The Twin Peaks dvd's that I sent for finally arrived the day after :)

1 October 2002

Burgo's Catch Phrase would definitely qualify as the stupidest, dumbest, downright lamest game show in all TV-history. Hint: Don't even think about proposing a concept too lame even for a children's game show, but for adult contestants and viewers. The morons that actually came up with the concept should immediately be black-listed by all TV stations that hold at least even the slightest pretense at holding some respect for their viewers; and they should never again be allowed to set foot in the premises of any TV station, anywhere. John Burgess has been treated like utter shit ever since, during and after he got booted off Wheel of Fortune. Burgo should be embarrassed that his own name appears up on the title, and Nine should be embarrassed for showing it at all.

29 September 2002

Bah, I fucking hate spring. It means another season of cockroaches and mozzies, but not least of of all, those little midgie thingies show up flying all around my screen.

25 September 2002

Well, it's also been over a year since the death of ex-cop Don Hancock in a car bombing, strangely enough still not called Perth's very own taste of terrorism...not yet anyway. But I'm afraid to say that I just don't feel sorry he's dead anymore, not after hearing what the bastard did to the Mickelbergs all these years ago. He probably also tried to "lean" on the bikies in much a similar manner, very shortly before retiring. However, unlike the Mickelbergs, who were until recently unable to fight back within due process, at least for the chance to clear their names, the bikies had no qualms at all to hit right back outside of it.

24 September 2002

Looks like Channel 7 is showing signs of "me-tooism" in showing a "special report" on the dramas of Polair 61 (the state police surveillance helicopter). Too late 7, as Access-31 had that idea first, and for a whole half-hour, but now 7 wants to jump in on a still-small bandwagon of having RealTV in our very own backyard. Come on Channel 7, when are you going to fucking well come up with something original?

22 September 2002

Don't ask me...compassion has become a dirty word.

13 September 2002

Ok, so now that September 11, 2002 has finally been consigned to history, its time to go home people, nothing to see here anymore. Just quit fucking gawking at the TV screen. The time to pause, reflect and remember is over, now just fucking well get on with the rest of your lives. But as a brief afterthought, while I continue to say NO to Bush's whole fucking warmongering agenda (and Howard's embarrassing sycophantism, for that matter), I take great offense to accusations that I don't care or give a shit about the victims, or shock-horror, even glad it happened; and will be met with the appropiate response.

9 September 2002

The whole mood just keeps on getting more and more moronic. With only two days to go to the first year anniversary, now I hear off the grapevine that some stupid fool is not only dressing himself in clothes made up of several American flags, but his wife and kids as well. It used to be illegal to create any kind of garment from the flag. Maybe it bloody well should be again. Real patriotism is much, much more than just following the rest of the sheep in waving the flag, any flag, but 'Old Glory' in particular.

29 August 2002

Well, the Blair Witch Project was on TV this week, and it was a refreshing break from the mould of conventional horror movies, one of the most cliché-ridden movie genres that there is. The movie itself still tends to separate to either those who were scared enough for them to leave the light on all night; or those who thought it lacking in so many ways, or hated it's whole home-movie handycam presentation. But I was one of the former...there's no way I was game enough to go out at night time the next couple of days. It's the old-fashioned fear of the things that 'go bump in the night', or forest in this case.

But that lead to me thinking of one of the greatest common fears there is, but I don't mean normal phobias. That of walking along in a forest somewhere, or the long hallway or corridor of some very old building. it doesn't even have to be dark but it does need to be at least any place completely absent of everyone but yourself, in complete silence, though darkness does enhance the fear quite a lot. Suddenly the fear grips you, telling you to never, NEVER turn around or look back, lest some unseen, unheard beast following right behind you suddenly lunge and literally tear you apart if you so much as turn your head. One pretty good technique that seems rather underutilized in a lot of this genre, I think. But how to do it just right, is another matter.

22 August 2002

Stuff the bloody LotR: FotR dvd's in all their editions that have just been released. Death & Rebirth and The End of Evangelion are the REAL dvd titles I've been waiting for too damn long :)

6 August 2002

How so very intriguing. So Channel 9 is right now showing off their national IQ test quiz thingy for three whole hours. As if anyone with an IQ that's more than double figures would be caught dead watching the shit that station puts on.

3 August 2002

The next bloody moron who starts yelling "AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE, etc", will get a DAMN good............thrashing within an inch of their life.

29 July 2002

Is it just me, or does the symbol for this years Commonwealth Games possess more than just a passing resemblance to the McDonalds logo? Yes, it does appear here and there in other colours, but you still cannot miss seeing the three people stretched out and reaching upwards, all yellow on a red background.

Nahhh, it's just a coincidence.

25 July 2002

So, the Australian Democrats are ungoing a crisis, that may ever cause the end, or a split within the party. Well, good fucking riddance I say. I have never forgiven the Democrats, not least of all that bitch Meg Lees for doing a deal with old chimpface on the GST, even after her being dumped as leader; the GST that chimpface said he would never, ever raise up again, the issue was dead and buried. Well...now we're stuck with it.

Keep the bastards honest? Fuck off.

19 July 2002

Well, I survived the Wanneroo Road, from almost the beginning to the end some 120 kilometres on at Lancelin. The trip was about the same length as from where I live to Bunbury, but it just seemed so much, much longer than that. All the time counting the distance I had left...50kms, 40kms, 10kms and thinking am I ever going to get there? Well, all of a sudden, up came the sign with the town's name on it, and got the "I'm here!" experience again, that I usually get after going for so long after not seeing a great deal. Well, there I was, and in it finally. Turns out the place is a lot like Golden Bay, only about twice as large. It reminded me a little of Shoalwater too, with an island and a few offshore limestone shoals, as well as of Coral Bay were I was a few months before, with the waves crashing against an offshore reef, only a lot closer.

Then it was back again, though not before a diversion to see what the Moore River Estuary was like. Back up and ascending again onto the rolling hills of a limestone based plateau and almost missing the turnoff, which was on a bend on top of a hill. Guilderton reminded me of Albany a little with hills right in the middle of the town, but even more hilly and a lot smaller, with the houses all creeping up their slopes. The river was a lot bigger and wider than I thought it would be, but I suppose with it entering the ocean, it would be. Turns out there's also some controversy too, as the dunes south of the river have been included in the part of some big development there. Yet another case of them having a nice little community going, only to have some wanker come in, waves a whole load of dollars around, and stuffs it all up. Ah, well. On the way back home again, before it got dark, I did catch something to make up for the trip to the Pinnacles being too far. Just before the turnoff back on Wanneroo Road, there were these strange looking limestone pillars and column shapes in a sand pit.

4 July 2002

Steve Fossett is a wanker. And like all wankers, will never know when to give up.

22 June 2002

Go go Senegal.

21 June 2002

Today I encountered yet another reason why I am utterly ashamed of being Australian. I sincerely wished that I never even heard of such a thing ever being spoken, but no matter how much I attempt to disbelieve, it still just won't get out of my head. As if forced detention wasn't anywhere near enough, some mayor prick by the name of Peter Davis has now called for some illegal immigrants to be used as target practice. This is not the first time he came up with such a comment, but certainly is the scariest so far. Forget about the months of accumulated frustration leading on to desperation, let's just further dehumanize and reduce them to a gang of violent thugs and in Mr. Davis' own words, 'to be shot at like galahs'. So, it's the death penalty for being an illegal immigrant now, is it? Even if some of the illegal immigrants may just prove to be genuine refugees. There is NOTHING more despicable than taking the most helpless people in the world, forced to or have no other option but to arrive either here or anywhere else, and to advocate or suggest that they should be shot. In fact, I find it so fucking despicable that I get the urge to say that those who say such things, should be the ones dragged out and shot instead, and good fucking riddance to that scum.

But, congratulations, Mr. Davis as you are now the most vile, contemptible, despicable, disgraceful, sick, twisted piece of white shit I have experienced in a long while. The only sensible thing to done in your case is to just insert your head in a bucket of liquid shit and keep it there, by force if necessary, or instead to be used as target practice in such a manner yourself. You have in your own words, proven yourself to be one evil, sick fuck and nothing more. Words as such as yours, I expect would even give cause for a certain Ms. Hanson to blush; no, now we're on to statements that would do even Hitler proud. What's the next thing that you'll call for next, you sick fuck? Gas ovens in the concen...oops, I meant detention centres? As that may just be the next logical step, at least what approximates logic in your sick, little mind, and I would not be at all surprised the way things are going now. Piss off Mr. Davis, you are nothing and will be nothing more than stupid white shit.

Someone get me the fuck out of this place please - it is becoming too mean-spirited, nasty and hateful, and it's just not fun here anymore.

20 June 2002

The one thing that I most feared happening, is indeed showing the initial signs of happening. I refer to this.

8 June 2002

You know, and especially in days like this, a lot of noise is being made on patriotism and all that potentially mindnumbing bullshit. Never mind that, instead of only just serving your country, or giving service to your community, of giving most of your service to the whole fucking planet as well.

I once saw a picture on a web page, and still think of it as the epitome of brilliance. It's quite a novel twist on the usual "Love it or leave it" phrase that so frequently is uttered by the mouths from all those redneck morons out there. It had a picture of the whole Earth, and underneath it, was said phrase.

1 June 2002

So, all over the country there were rallies condemning the insurance rates literally going through the roof, which as a result forced many leisure companies and clubs out of business at the very worst. To which I say, "Shut the fuck up you morons". All in all, the whole responsibility must lie with the dominance of the "litigation society".

If people weren't so willing to resort to point blame and sue someone's ass off after even the most minor injury or inconvenience, we wouldn't even have this whole mess, as the insurance companies have no option BUT to raise their rates to the extent they have. Just go home, quit your complaining and otherwise belt up, and get in your thick heads that we're ALL to blame.

30 May 2002

We need a new genre called Psychoblues now, and we need it BAD. Something to make even what the Jesus & Mary Chain and John Spencer were doing look utterly wimpy in comparison.

25 May 2002

I am a fucking paroxetine (withdrawal) survivor, alright. Don't ever doubt it.

19 May 2002

In some small corner of the world, the rest of history begins from this very day forward; and what was not too long ago an almost unachievable distant dream of independence, has finally been attained. Even though the future looks uncertain after the nation of East Timor is officially declared tomorrow into being the poorest nation in Asia, possibly even the world, the worst is at least behind them. While most of the world will most likely remain unaware that East Timor even exists, let alone of it's history especially over the last 27 years, or of the independence celebrations still ongoing even as I type, due in no small part to the media's ongoing preoccupation to manufacture consent, in the world's newest nation however, tomorrow can truly be called a momentous day. And after all that they've been through, they bloody well deserve it. So...happy Independence Day, East Timor.

Viva Timor Lorosae.

17 May 2002

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am not a furry. My life does not revolve around watching The Lion King or Balto for the 200th time. I do not wear t-shirts with a wolf, fox, bear, cougar or any other critter's image upon the front. I do not wear a tail, ears, or face and/or body makeup in private or in public. I do not murr, purr, bark or growl, also in private or in public. I have only ever been to two furry get-togethers, the last being over two years ago. I do not possess a shelf full of plushies, just the bare minimum. I do not read Sabrina-Online, Kevin & Kell, Crazy as a Fox, Newshounds or any of David Hopkins' prolific output, but I do read Sluggy occasionally. I do not draw any furry art at all, though I do look at some when I can. I have never watched Invader Zim. I do not eat nutella on anything. I do not hold They Might Be Giants, System of a Down, Rush, GWAR, Jethro Tull or Tool to be any of my favourite bands, though TMBG are at least "interesting". I am certainly NOT a fox. No, dear audience, I am not a furry.

16 May 2002

Yet another reason why I hate McDonalds. It was bad enough when they used all the McDonald's houses they set up as an excuse to make a big song and dance about. "Oh!! Look what we've done! Aren't we so generous!! Won't you come eat from us?!" Now, they've sunk even lower. Instead of just giving the charities of their choice the damn money out of the goodness of their hearts, now you must order a big mac from them so they can donate a just measly dollar, or else they donate nothing. Just piss off Macca's, I resent your whole sick carrot and stick game.

14 May 2002

No, no, don't stop, not even in the slightest bit. Just keep on ahead with what you're doing Mr. Howard, and Abbott & Costello. I don't really mind at all that you again choose to hit those most vulnerable, and the disabled as well this time, for the khaki budget. Only I really do agree that you cover it this time, and make everyone pay their share this time around. After all, wouldn't want all thost whingers and do-gooders up in arms now, pardon the pun, now would we? Anyway, all those pensioners and unemploye people actually don't matter in the overall scheme of things. I mean, for a start, they hardly ever pay their share of taxes or otherwise contribute, if at all, so who really cares about that lot. Noone but those ACOSS whingers.

But anyway, like I say, keep on with what it is you're doing. The 'battlers' and the unfortunate will just have to get used to having the financial thumb-screws tightened just a little tighter. It's really all for the own good, honest. But still, kind of makes the alternative, be it socialism or anarchism or whatever cause the noisy, rowdy rabble who seem to think that the system has failed them and screwing every last cent it can out of the less fortunate and helpless, is into this week just a little more acceptible when compared to mainstream politics though, doesn't it?

8 May 2002

This advice goes out to anyone who has been given a prescription for Aropax, Paxil or whatever other brand name has been assigned to the drug known as paroxetine, for panic attacks, anxiety, depression or whatever else, and starting to take their daily dosage.


The first time I went off them, or should I say, reduced the dose gradaully, all I ever experienced was the feeling of 'electric shocks' or jolts. However, I am doing so again, and this time after a much longer period of three years, and the withdrawal symptons are so much worse this time around. In addition to the feeling of jolts returning, I'm still going through mood swings, from intense rage building up within to and from intense sadness, and in fact I have broken down into an emotional wreck already. I usually do have mood swings even without them anyway, but not to the extent I am now.

It's just not worth the torment in getting off, so I urge you NOT to take them to begin with. But I'm also not the only one. Paroxetine withdrawal is much rigorously documented here.

14 March 2002

Saw the most uncanny thing today. Outside a McDonalds "restaurant", was a banner offering the chance to win free meals at Macca's for a year. But...what assurances are there, that at the end of that period, you don't end up looking like this.

8 March 2002

Had a dream from last night to finally clarify some matter that previously, I had given just the occasional passing consideration. That is, only second's thought given to the similarities in my own personality and behaviour, and the description of the animal archetype, collected together from the scarces sources of information where I could read on it, and, since there are the usual differences between each and all of them, mainly the common attributes from just the single archetype's description collected into a basic archetypal model.

So now, I have two animals of significance, or guiding creatures, or better sounding words than these of your own choice. Two animal types are now in that very short list of those who hold a very special and even spiritual significance for me, and also to which I am tied to...

1. Stoat
2. Wolverine

While the stoat has been in the top place, and in fact the only contender, for close to nine years, the wolverine has just been entered as number two. Even though obviously behind that of stoats and weasels, I've also had some affection with wolverines too, going back almost as far back in time. Add my own "never give up" attitude and not to mention my own quite ferocious temperament as well, after the occasional 'streams of conciousness'. Maybe thought provoking to consider for a minute or two at the most, but back then, did I think there was anything really special and out of the ordinary between me and the wolverine? Nahhhhh. But have I really ever been put in the situation to never surrender against a real threat? That I haven't even experienced once yet. How am I to find out for sure?

However, last night's dream changed the situation. What I do remember seems like a mere short while in dream-time, but it was enough. Suddenly a wolverine came out of the blue and up against me, laying its head on my chest and lying comfortably there. Anyway, the dream carried on like that for what seems like a minute, before losing recall of what happened next. The only other part I can recall was some new realistic makeup/costuming technique that puts the Creature Workshop to shame. All that needs to be done now is to know what it means, even if it's just fragments. Nonetheless, its one of those occasional dreams that leaves you to wake up with a sense of euphoria and renewed wonder.

Shit, I must love the mustelids. :D

12 February 2002

To those who somehow managed to put up with me and, to put it diplomatically, my failings, I thank all of you. I know it wasn't easy for you all, in varying degrees for each of you, and certainly wasn't easy for me either, now as well as then. And to those who have stayed with me the most, and even loved someone who only recently got to understand just what it means, I owe that which cannot be given. I wish I could return everything you have given me, but presently I just have nothing to give. But time may change that.

To those who don't however, I wish I could turn back and make fate turn in a completely different direction. But I can't, so essentially what's done has been done. But since the choice has been made, and being determined to persist in thinking so long that I'm something I'm usually not, I can only say "fuck you".

29 January 2002

Due to a recent resurgence in anime, including getting my hands on a couple of imported DVD's, I have taken up teaching myself Japanese again, after a lapse of over a year. To those also thinking of taking up Japanese up also, but still unused to the different grammar structure, just keep in mind that it's occurred to me that it strongly resembles a 'RPN' of sentence construction. Instead of "subject" "verb" "object", it generally falls under the pattern of "subject" "object" "verb". But that's just for the simple sentences. This has been another insightful tip. :)

17 January 2002

Just gotta love the WA Chamber of Commerce.

"Bah, humbug" economics is alive and well.