Are the weekends over yet?

sibleh, All these public holidays are disruptive. While I enjoy not having to do much, it means there are more mondays in the week. "/ Mondays as they say, are a crap way to spend one seventh of your life.

Is man god's blunder, or is god man's blunder?
--Friedrich Nietchze

In the holy quest for extrovertedness, I've picked up a nasty inclination towards total arrogance, selfishness. Empathy *is* an introverted emotion. I hurt Carla's feelings and I didn't even think twice about it. There is much value in just listening and not talking your kop off. :(

"A closed mouth gathers no feet"

Fuck this soap opera that is Tribes. There is so much bad blood everywhere, it must look like a 3rd world slaughter house. Is it possible to start anew? I'd like to think so, but there will always be this obscured vision. Its so petty too, we had a great thing once, now its all fucked. Is that the price for going to far with the community spirit? Should there be a layer of anonymity (sp?) instead of getting too personal? The day I think things changed was when people didn't care anymore. Training stopped, people didn't post interesting news on the forums. We got involved in competition for Team ZA, people played to win. Playing to win is great, but then everyone else must play to win and not whine about being thrashed. Winning is fun. CHKNHD left. Downhill from there. Attitudes veered off the road like taxi drivers over christmas. Last straw: Cheating. Such a great community down the tubes. Another problem Tribes had was lack of critical mass. (x amount of players per night, we were x-10.) We have a golden opportunity with Tribes Vengeance to get critical mass. HL2 is delayed. Roll on Vengeance. Will our community spirit be back with a vengeance though? *cough*

An open page, blank, a portal to the void. Your pen, a great lightsabre in the dark. When the two meet, the void seems a little less empty, the darkness brightens. Spiderwebbing over the portal door, shielding you from the lack of feeling. There is human essence in that ink, it burns into the page, yet is cold to the touch. Patterns in the portal door. Thoughts. Emotions. Bring it on.

I wish I was a bird *tweet*.
Flying on the wind, how sweet.
Devouring ripe fruit, till I'm fat
What could be better than that?

Meet my mate, she's so great
Songs will bind us like fate.
We'd move to an upmarket suburb
... one with a recent refurb.

There we'd build a few nests,
one in which to invite guests.
Then we'd bring up some chicks,
oh to hear their little "clicks"

After a fulfilling life,
and spending it with my wife,
I'd die happy and fat...
What could be better than that!