I’ve never been a big fan of Spring. I don’t know why. While everyone is rejoicing at the return of blue skies and fresh air, I’m miserable. I think it has to do with several things. Firstly, the moment life returns to the plains of despair that are New England winters, my sinuses fill with enough muck to cement a wall with. And secondly, I find the air to be harsh at night, and cold in the morning. It’s a cock-tease. It’s like halfway decent out there. At least with the winter, you know what you’re getting: misery.
During the Spring, I don’t know what the fuck to wear, I don’t know what it’s going to be like out. Either I’m freezing, or I’m wearing too much and I’m sweating through my fucking clothing again. Pit stains need to come into fashion, or I’m going to live a very unfashionable life. It doesn’t seem that implausible, I mean, these days assholes are shelling out legitimate amounts of cash for pants that look like a painter fucked his co-worker in the middle of a job, and then got into a knife fight. Maybe some day there will be pseudo-pit stains, already burned into the shirts you buy.
A man can dream.
Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.
Playing / Final Fantasy XIII
I’m going to be straight with you. For a while, I was despairing that I hated Final Fantasy XIII. It wasn’t clicking. I didn’t like the characters, I found the story to be overly melodramatic, and I was pissed off that one of the chicks is being cast as a fourteen year-old porn actress. But last night, shit finally clicked. I don’t know what it was that finally got me into the game. For certain, the storyline has begun to develop, and I actually feel like I know the peeps I’m controlling.
For the longest time, they were a bunch of assholes that I hadn’t built a rapport with uttering shit like “Fighting without hope is no way to live! It’s just a way to die!” and I’m all really? But then I popped a xanax and let out a deep breath.
I don’t know why I had such an aversion to the overtly cheesy material. But now I’m just accepting it as excessively over the top, and trying to accept it for what is, not be aggravated for what it isn’t. And when you approach it that way, it’s a lot easier to get back into the groove.
Also? It’s fucking gorgeous, and the battle system makes my butt pucker with intensity.
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