mostly.mouse

I try to be happy no matter what is thrown at me in life.

I try not to change no matter how people treat me in life.

I need to remind myself this and give myself a hug every once in a while.

I’ve come to the conclusion that there isn’t anyone out there for me.

Not a single person who will accept all of me, flaws and all.

I knew, yet again, it was too good to be true … and yet I still tried. I still tried.

No more…

For the longest time I thought I had bad luck… but somehow I met you. 

It is a shame when you come to a point and time in your life when cutting a person out is the only thing left that can be done, to bring back the happiness they’re trying to suck out of your soul.

unknown

Thanks for reminding me how awesome you were … I almost forgot.

Insert sarcasm above.

Don’t forget about a thing called love.

Under an hour for the third round of closed beta fun in Tera… please hurry up, I miss mah Priest.

Wednesday, wednesday, wednesday.

Feels like a rather good day, though I wished I had more sleep … four hours isn’t enough to properly function at work, let alone anywhere else. I really, really, really need to try and get to bed earlier. If only I was so distracted lately … but, heh, it’s been a really wonderful distraction.

And soon I’ll be playing Tera again. Waiting for the new patch so I can update my game and then 72 hours of madness begins after work on Friday … well maybe 60, haha.

I guess since I’m at work I should try to do some work. Right? Right! 

perpetual-wip:

Isn’t there anybody else who’s gonna stand with me?

I adored Dale for many reasons, but his ability to be humane in an inhumane world was what really sold me on him every time. In a post-apocalyptic world, hope and humanity are the only two commodities more precious and rare than life itself. Dale embodied them both, so when I sobbed my heart out on my couch for a solid half hour Sunday night, I was grieving (and still am) for their loss as much as his. That world needed them, it needed Dale, but he was snuffed out — stolen.

I understand the off-screen happenings that led to Dale’s character being written off the show. What I don’t understand is why they chose to write him off the way they did… rather, I get why, I just fail to agree with it or believe that it makes any sense whatsoever. Dale spent the majority of his time planted on the roof of his RV, looking out for danger. He was a smart, savvy guy who always had everyone else’s back; he was capable, not an idiot. How are we supposed to believe that he’d wander off a considerable distance from the group in the middle of the night, and then gape at a half-eaten cow while listening to gurgling snarls from behind him? Not only is that an insult to the viewer’s intelligence, it’s an injustice to a competent character that tarnishes his image and his message. Would it not have been a more credible, believable ending for Dale’s storyline for him to have packed his bags and driven his RV of hope off into the sunset with whoever wanted to come with him, unwilling and unable to live with a group of people who willingly and unnecessarily forsook their humanity and decency in the face of paranoid fear? Such a resolution would have been in character, nor would it have required a full episode of shameless, nonsensical set up (Carl being allowed to wander off into the woods by himself to conveniently discover and free Dale’s killer walker after Sophia got attacked and turned? after getting shot in the chest out there once before? after two seasons of Lori being overprotective?), nor would it have been quite as heartbreaking. And the decision to let him die without knowing that his friends hadn’t killed the innocent-until-proven-guilty kid that he pleaded and begged for? Cruel. Cruel and deliberate. But why, writers?

More and more, it seems to me that there is a growing thematic trend to systematically destroy all hope in (what appears to be) a concerted effort to break the characters’ spirits in the ironically unrealistic name of “realism.” There’s no denying that the world The Walking Dead is set in is bleak. Yes, desperate people can be expected to do desperate things that they might not have under ordinary circumstances. Yes, the innocent can be expected to perish. Yes, individuals will be pushed to the brink, and some might fall over. Yes, there will be some sick sons of bitches out there who take advantage of everything to gain power for themselves. (Please note that all these things happen in our non-apocalyptic world every day.) But why does all that mean that there can’t be any good? In fact, it seems decidedly unrealistic to say that unhappiness, despair, and hopelessness are the only things than can arise and remain in such a world. TWD’s surviving crew could band together and find support and comfort in one another, whether like Glenn and Maggie, or in more platonic ways like Carol and Daryl. They could bunker down against the winter with Hershel’s broken family and they could all begin to heal together. They could accept the stranger-kid, for better or for worse, and weather whatever storms come their way together. It’s feasible and it would make sense for them to do so, especially in the wake of Dale’s tragic death. They could, and should, do so.

Or, at least they could if the writers would allow it, but think it’s fairly obvious that they won’t.

I’ve always enjoyed the show—endured the gore and the guts—because it was about the people, not the zombies. But season two has seen a change: the writers are treating the characters less and less like people, and more and more like apocalyptic punching bags. What cheap, arbitrary situational blow can be next delivered to bring them to their knees? First, a prolonged search for Sophia with constant little peaks of hope, from Daryl’s flowers to her little doll, only to have her end up worse than dead. Next, Carl admiring the simple, hopeful beauty of a deer in the forest with Shane and Rick (who, in that moment, were at peace with one another), only for him to get shot and nearly killed. Then, Dale constantly advocating hope and fighting for humanity, nearly succeeding in his battle only to be cut down in some senseless, unnecessarily gruesome death scene, the bearer of hope passing away without any himself. The message has been clear: if you hope, you die. That isn’t realistic and the situations developed to convey that message, particularly in the case of Dale, have betrayed that in their utterly contrived nature. This season has seen a gradual but dramatic departure from the initial run’s intense, emotional, and well-developed character studies; now it’s devolving into a sick game of how long can they last, an effort to break them. And it’s working. Not just on the characters, but the audience.

At least, I know it is on this slice of the audience. 

I do not and will not subscribe to the bitterly cynical notion that being realistic and being hopeless and inhumane are one in the same. It disturbs me how characters of similar mind are portrayed as weak and unfit for survival (cemented, in Dale’s case, by a contrived death not worthy of him or at all in character), and how every potential beam of light is repeatedly snuffed out. I do not want to watch and support a show that holds such a desperately poor view of humanity, and if The Walking Dead continues down this road of forsaking good, realistic storytelling and characters in favor of portraying a world broken to an unrealistic, sickening degree, I’ll find something else to do with my Sunday nights.

You deserved better, Dale. You deserved far better.

I couldn’t have said this better myself.

(Source: dragonsplantnotrees)