…

"On the sign of a spotted nation,

Our dreams populate the world,

We are the new generation,

Of acceptance and hate unfurled,

Dancing upon the dotted lines,

We are our own divider,

Enslaved to our worsening times,

A gift of frankincense and myrrh.

So cheers, drink up to sorrow,

And let's laugh our pain away,

Today, yesterday, and tomorrow,

Are just concepts anyway.

So let's just keep on in song,

In hopes that we might be heard,

Everything that we've done is wrong,

We're just another dream deterred,

But I just can't deny the fun,

Of making up these stories,

We're living life on the run,

And escaping life's big freeze,

Oh I'm but another punk,

Who's here to say just this:

"This world is just so dysfunkt,

So dare I make a list?

Lines of people waiting there,

Walking into death,

Acting like they give no care,

Denying their breath,

Oh, walking into this life,

I can say without a doubt,

I'd rather tainted knife,

Than be the living devout.

So try to escape this place,

If you can run all night and day,

We all see the look on your face,

But life has nothing to say."

"

…

And then there's really no point to have said all that, because I said it in my last blog, but most of you probably didn't see that. Hell, even I didn't see that. I rarely pay attention to myself, so I have no reason to tell other people to. I try not to. Anyways, I'd like to address a few things said in the last blog, becausde no one, as far as I can predict, will read back, and check to see what I said.

Starting with what Juju said:

"Is 64D going downhill? I don't think so. We've got a decent number of blogs very few trouble-makers and a relatively steady flow of new games and WIPs. Old users are given respect and new users are warmly welcomed."

I suppose we may have a decent number of blogs, as you may call it. But really, since when was the amount of blogs necessarily indicative of how good a site is? Can you guarantee that all blogs are of the same, good quality? There may be very few trouble-makers, but that doesn't mean that people are still stupid and bad for the community nonetheless. And I'm not going to talk about the games, because my days of game making are kinda gone. I can say that new users are welcomed, at least, though not always warmly welcomed, from what I may have seen before… Although I may have been blind. And… old users get respect? I don't feel like I get much respect, and I've been here for about 2 years. But then again, I don't really know. I may get respect, but it is hidden, at least to me.

And now I forgot what else I was going to say.But it doesn't really add up to much. I'm just going on about stuff that doesn't matter. I mean, if I say it, it's mostly guaranteed that it doesn't matter. I'm trying to think of the things to say, but they just aren't coming to mind, it would seem. I've met some people here that are good, and enjoyable people… You know, people that aren't neessarily bad, or detracting from the community. But I've met just as much people, probably even more, who detract from it. Really, what does it matter?

I don't even spend enough time here to count as a viable member of this community. I used to post a blog every day, but then I decided to stop because I ran out of things to say. Or not because I ran out of things to say, but because I ran out of things that people wanted to hear. I ran out of some sort of thing that actually means something.

So, I'm trying to think of something to say to fill in all thi sblank space that is in my mind, to fill in all this blank space on this page, but there is just nothing to say, because no one really knows just why I say it. Not even me. I want attention? Sure, but who doesn't? I want to annoy people? No, not really. I want to help people? Not really. People don't want me to help them, so why should I want to help them?

Don't ever tell anybody about anything. If you do, you'll end up missing everybody.

"And when I look into your eyes

I can see all the contempt,

But I can't really blame you,

I'm actually in assent,

For you obviously know,

Just what is proper in life,

Lining up in your dirty row,

Paying respect to your knife,

You just make me sick.

Tear yourself into pieces,

And let me reassemble them,

Let me come to my thesis,

And tear it all on up again,

I'm standing in rank and file,.

In line with allegiance of sick,

Distort, destroy, defile,

Disaster dictates this derelict,

Disassociation and death,

Dampening dying breath,

Daringly diving down,

Digging deeper to be found,

There is no meaning that we want,

More than to say that we care,

But life is just our grand witch hunt,

'twas never meant to be fair."

Am I guilty? I don't know, I hope I'm not. Am I insane? I wish. Then I would at least have an excuse. Do I care? Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't keep on going. Do I even care what you have to say? Duh. Otherwise, I wouldn't try to get you to say something. Does it matter? Maybe, maybe not. You tell me. Or you don't.

We're just words sent through a series of tubes anyways. I don't see you, you don't see me, you don't feel me. You only read me.

The abandoned heart of a new day beating away into nothing, into everything. Can it be helped? Only time could tell… But time… What a mirage.