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  • Mood: Neutral
Thanks. I guess.

  • Mood: Approval
Emily Glover: A little girl who walks through dreams. Used to be friends with Reggie before a terrible fire.

Reginald Terlinger: A self-hating party clown who's good with his hands and shockingly good at mimicry. Used to be friends with Emily before a terrible fire caused him to believe her dead.

Oswald Terlinger: His brother, the creator of Ringo the Walrus, an extremely successful children's show.

Ridley Rhye: Reggie's roommate, a short engineer who works for Vespcorp, a massive global security firm.

Phineas Cain: Owner and CEO of Vespcorp. Generally really creepy.

Charley: The leader of a faction of the Oneiros, a cult that worships the god of dream. He travels with and watches over Emily in the real world.

Guile: A former member of the Children of Phant, who worship the god of Nightmare, and a noted tech wiz. Travels with Emily in the real world.

King: A mute with a photographic memory. He is the Scribe, and travels with Emily in the real world.

Cera: Genetically engineered assassin, the most devout of the group. Left the organization who made her when she was beckoned by Relsus in a dream. Travels with and protects Emily in the real world.

Relsus: The god of dream. A one-armed, one-eyed purple cnidarian creature. Recruits Emily to stop the Sandman.

Phant: The god of Nightmare. Like a cloaked, rotten hornet. Recruits Reggie to stop the Sandman.

Sandman: An old cyborg who has retreated into self-imposed exile in the Barrier between dream and reality. Appears to be causing dream avatars to drift from the barrier, drained of all psychic energy, their real world counterparts left comatose.

SAAND: The servant of the Sandman. A collection of self-aware nanites which has been roaming both Dream and Nightmare, absorbing the landscape into itself.

buckets: A mysterious being that seems to only exist occasionally. Knows more than it should. Likes mustard on clam shells.

Icksys: The sycophant of Relsus. A secretary with a classy suit and a hole where his head should be.

Kayar: The sycophant of...Phant. A white java sparrow with piercing white eyes. A worrywart and a coward.

Obelus: A scavenger of the Rueldol Barrens. Her left eye shows her brother Ampersand everything it sees. She constantly looks for nice things to show off to her brother to make him feel jealous.

Ampersand: A vomute herder on the coast of Pelgavyx. His right eye shows his sister Obelus everything it sees. He constantly looks for disgusting things to make her sister look at to aggravate her. His personal favorite is butthole plants.

Captain Beardbeard: Captain of the Poropas, a wooden ship crewed by a somewhat unconventional crew. Even so, he is a child's idea of a pirate. Or so he claims to be.

Kotikakt: A wooden robot among the robotic refugees that power the Poropas. He replaced himself piece by piece with wooden equivalents. It is rumored he keeps the old parts in a chest. Very old, he remembers the time before the Barrier.

Minister Slaufist: Leader of the Builders of the Heavenly Tower. His cult builds a frozen tower of debris and prisoners to try to get to heaven. But sadly it melts every summer.

Tor CMLXIII, Keeper of Maan Torre: The sole remaining inhabitant of the Tower Maan Torre. His robots do his bidding, and he is loathe to anyone who does not entertain him. Anyone who fails to make proper homage to him is cast off the top of his tower to the marshes below.

Rossumark: One of two robot lords that live in the marshes at the base of the Tower. He wishes to build an army to destroy Tor and his tower, salvaging any robots still loyal to Tor as scrap.

Karalkapek: The other robot lord, a pacifist. He wishes to leave the marshes in search of better lands to live in.
  • Mood: Optimism
  • Listening to: See below.
Oh we're floating, west and east, we go floating, free and released from the hands that gave us flight, hands too little to hold on tight, now we float forever in and out of sight.

It wasn't so much the music, or the rain that started to fall. The miracle part of Woodstock, was that peace could happen at all. Peace could happen at all! Heard they tried it again, but me and my string feel you can't relive a one-time thing.

So we're floating (floating!), south and north, we go floating (floating!), backwards and forth, 'cause of hands that gave us flight, hands too little to hold on tight, now we float forever, in and out of sight!

At Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, where the child is noisy and wild, I bobbled above the grand stand, from the sticky hand of a child. When Bill waved to the crowd, twas fine fun until, that small hand that held me waved to Bill. He waved to Bill!

Now we're floating (Floating!), west and east, we go floating (Floating!), free and released from the hands that gave us flight, hands too little to hold on tight, now we float forever in and out of sight.

The circuses, fairs, and boardwalks, and all the special places we've been; we all have our tales to tell you, and all the time in the world to tell them in!

So come floating (Floating!), east and west, it's like walking (Floating!) after the best. Come and join our endless flight from hands too little to hold on tight! Now we float forever, in and out of sight! Float with us forever, in and out of sight!…
  • Mood: Neutral
when time itself is not?
  • Mood: Happy
"There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses." Ezekiel 23:20

So now you can tell Christians what your favorite bible verse is.
  • Mood: Tired
The 27th of August.

Fawkes got lucky with that whole November rhyming with a shitton of words.
  • Mood: Anxious
A monk offers me two trinkets. In his left hand, he holds a small, white porcelein sphere with a tiny, golden circle on the top of it. In his right, he holds a chunk of coal that has been carved into an asymetrical cube.

I take the porcelein trinket. He frowns, no doubt because I took the more valuable of the two.

The next time you have that dream, I want you to take the coal.

A monk offers me two trinkets. In his left hand, he holds a small, white porcelein sphere with a tiny, golden circle on the top. In his right, he holds a chunk of coal that has been carved into an asymetrical cube.

I take the cube of coal. The monk smiles, no doubt because I have foolishly taken the less valuable trinket. But then he reaches towards my object, and in my hand, crushes the coal into powder.

When he removes his hand, I see sitting in the dust a diamond cut flawlessly.
  • Mood: Pain
  • Watching: "The Hand That Rocks the Wheelchair"
*Stupid comment*

>Someone else: "I don't mean to be offensive but (half-assed criticism of previous comment.)"

>Me: "I MEAN to be offensive. You're a cock-sucking fuckwit who wouldn't know his asshole from a hole in the ground. Cut off your testes with a sharp pair of pruning shears so the human gene pool isn't contaminated by your lack of cognitive ability. If you HAVE somehow managed to procreate, kill your children and any offspring derived from them by beating them to death with a golf club."

I just thought's I'd share that.
  • Mood: Neutral
Bleeding a bit from my pinky. Hopefully will heal by Thursday.

Also wanted to get rid of the slightly depressing entry about the cunt who was incapable of abstract thought.

I want cake.
  • Mood: Resentful
  • Watching: I wish emoticons were more serious sometimes
It is horrifying how I can be pouring my soul into trying to get someone to understand a love of truth and intellect and reason only to find out that they never had any desire or intention to comprehend in any way. And then they just laugh, proud of their own inability to understand.

XxTrinityxX, as long as throw-rug is there, I am never coming back to #OpenAir again. As far as I can tell she isn't really deserving of any human empathy. She has brought out a shameful hate in my heart.
  • Mood: Depressed
  • Drinking: Peach Mango Tea
I am horribly depressed right now.
  • Mood: Terror
  • Listening to: Z̼̩ͭ͐&#773
  • Reading: Z̼̩ͭ͐&#773
  • Watching: Z̼̩ͭ͐&#773
  • Playing: Z̼̩ͭ͐&#773
  • Eating: Z̼̩ͭ͐&#773
  • Drinking: Z̼̩ͭ͐&#773
  • Mood: Zest
Sweet lord single player was amazing. Can't wait to play Co-op once I can find a partner.
  • Mood: Pain
It's as if I've lost my talent for narrative. I'm having trouble writing anything for my story.

This really worries me.
  • Mood: Rant
  • Playing: Minecraft
Jesus Fucking Christ, I give points to one friend and suddenly everyone thinks I'm the First National Bank of Moneybags.

Piss off, all of you, stop asking me for points. This goes double for the people from non-English speaking nations. I don't know you, you don't speak my language fluently, and I don't care about your little begging pools. I gave to Tugera because I needed character art done. Not because I like throwing money around for no reason.

I don't care if I sound racist or dickish, stop asking strangers for money like you're fucking beggars. None of you 'need' a premium account. You 'want' a premium account, and think that the degree of that want can make it appear as a 'need'. It can't. You won't die or suffer from having to see ads.

I WANT people to download the Minecraft map I uploaded on the previous journal. I don't need them to. I won't die of diphtheria because people don't download the maze I made.

To anyone who wants points for nothing:

Leave. Me. Alone.
  • Mood: Uneasy
  • Eating: chicken
  • Drinking: tea…

It has taken me two weeks to mine and set all the stone, but it is finished. A 100x98x4 labyrinth dispersed with treasures ranging in rarity from diamonds and obsidian, to pumpkins and iron. Darkness fills some corridors, where horrible things will lurk and spawn all around you. Dare you enter the labyrinth? Can you conquer the dark?

(Please say yes and download, I put a lot of effort into this.)


The second link is the updated version with new starting point with appropriate armor and items.
  • Mood: Content
  • Reading: What do you think?
By Robert J. Sawyer:

"A spaceship lands outside the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto. An alien being emerges and says, in perfect English, "Take me to a paleontologist." Hollus is traveling from star to star on a quest to scientifically prove that God exists. Tom Jericho, the human scientist with whom he ends up working, is convinced there is no god. Their debates, and their growing friendship, drive the narrative in this fast paced, morally and intellectually challenging story of ambitious scope and touching humanity. Calculating God is SF on a grand scale."

This is an incredible book that haw quite literally transformed my views on god and reality. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Go read it now. And I don't mean go to the library, I mean go and buy a copy like I did, this guy deserves the money.
  • Mood: Pain