  I did it I edited 3 pages worth of rules… of course out of habit these rules are double column, single spaced, size 8 times new roman, with no breaks for paragraphs. It must have been the equivalent of 30 page thesis. YEACH!!! Anyway I’ll play soccer tomorrow, not before I drop off jasper’s thesis. Then I will go around hardware stores looking for putty. I have to fix this sculpture for mom. I guess I am a bit irritable about that. Anyway… GURPS GAME I wish the guys cancel on me. I can’t make a gurps game. Not now. I wish I could get a job at Steve Jackson Games typing up character types and maxing them out. I have a knack for making them end in round numbers. I would like that very much… writing for GURPS.
I could make characters at 25 points and above and put several easy to calculate templates. I also would not mind doing any editing work for my own. DND Well the Game is on Wed. Which is good, it means I will have a soccer game before I leave for the states. My Doom/ Savior Looking back at what kind of life I have. I have met a lot of amazing people, done some surprising things with what I had and failed miserably at the standards society expects of me. I can’t judge myself. The way I learn to reserve my judgment despite my strong impulses. If I think I’m a loser not having finished college and prioritized my greencard was an unusual action to take. I failed grade two when I was little. I was always a year older then the other kids and I guess to the people my age less mature.
I caught up in college, big time. Its just that professionally I got stunted given the series of events that led to my failure. Don’t get me wrong. I have an LOA slip and I can finish in 2 terms. I just have to finish by 2006. But I can’t. Simple as that. I have to get my green card. I’m twenty five and I could apply for citizenship at 30. That’s too old to live the way I want to live. If I do keep up my health with my martial arts and soccer.
How about my professional abilities. I wish I could get a job around illustration. Its hard to be an artist who is poor in this day and age. The computer is a great help for a guy who knows his limits. With a computer I work with a +2 bonus. With a studio I work with another +2 bonus. At my skill level that would be 16. That would make me a professional. But I need to earn the computer, the studio and the personal space to work… little by little. I have to find the contacs.
I have to build a portfolio with the crap I got. I might sound spoiled. But I know my potential… its just that AGAIN I hate asking for the capital. I like building everything from the ground up. I guess I could use some confidence in my abilities. The 1865 poster was good: For a dinosaur and it took me 2 days and EVERYTHING about the drawing was made or scrounged up by me. No copy right infringement there. I know people download stuff and get stuff easy cause the have everything already. BUT I did it from nothing. UNFORTUNATELY this credit goes unnoticed. I like making everything orig and not using an established pattern.
I have a vision in my head but I have no cash… and mom breathing down my neck. I can beat a deadline just as well as the other artist… ITS JUST MOM KEEPS BUGGING ME AND I GET TURNED OFF!!! She complains…and complains and complains… DOES SHE THINK COMPLAINING WILL MAKE GOLD SHINE BRIGHTER OR SILVER NEVER TARNISH!!! OH FUCK, I know I have odd hours. I lie on my bed at 6, sleep at 7 only to be bugged by mom before she goes to the gym, then I take another hour to try to sleep.
Alcohol does nothing to me these days. I can drive with a glass of vodka in me. If I keep taking alcohol I can see my tolerance get used to it too quickly. I wake up at 10 when dad says something or people moving around the room, then I hear my alarm ring at 12, I reset it to 1 and then I wake up with only 2 sets of 2 hours of broken sleep.
Everytime I close my eyes in bed I hear myself give myself a sermon, I hear mom’s sermon and have an hours worth of monologue going through my head when I want to SCREAM MY SELF TO SLEEP. I sometimes imagine myself falling from the condo’s 44th floor as the rain would fall right beside me. I could see it form round clear drops and see makati… the rest of the world in one perfect instant… where imperfection is thrown out of my mind and what is left is bliss. Then the feeling of swallowing my teeth and how my tongue would taste the hard concrete. How my eyes would pop from the impact as the rest of my skull would pin my vision into the wet and cold dirt.
How my legs and arms… my hands the muscles I work so hard to strengthen and refines bleed as my bones splinter into them. How places in my arm where pain cannot be felt and pain everywhere would throw my mind into a peace that would be the only last and everlasting kind. FUCK!!! I hate talking like this. I hate going through the motions of writing something that could be more but I do not have the expertise to sculpt and refine. I hate the fact that when I was in highschool I made one short story about love that the teacher praised and everyone wanted to read… and how it reads like crap now. I hate it when I dream and reality is so brutal that life can never be simple unless is imperfect.
I hate how I want something taboo and I hate it cause it is an era that cannot accept it. FUCK again Anyways… I’m making a character… so pure that he’s twisted. He feels and loves so purely that there is a catch. He is an honest, kind and very appealing soul. He hides it very well being blind and being mistaken as a handicap. Despite his exotic capabilities.
He is an artist of people, a master sculpter and mind reader. Not with supernatural means but simply cause he has memory that is too great for him to control. The character tore his own eyes out when he was a teen when he could not stop but keep memorizing every little detail in the most extreme sense. He had eyes that were too keen and a face so beautiful it tormented him… WHY… I guess that’s for me to begin to explain… he has a lost love… a woman who died in front of him.
He was a teenager and when his emotion were to strong to wrestle with he let go and embraced them unfortunately as you go from child to adult and you care memories of that precision everything begins to unravel. As you learn the patterns, the meanings behind the actions, and how everything is connected, his conclusion was to terrifying that he would block his own thoughts and begin to space out. If doesn’t help to be in a family of prestige and complex relationships and hierarchies (the messed up families of those who indulge in all their pleasures). Well, the character learned to act the manner of abstinence and moderation… unfortunately his lost love gave him a very interesting attraction to women his age (at that time) so you got a sick and twisted mind trying to find refuge where there is none to find… Fucked up but I lik’ey 
