dragsies wrote:
Quote:
Would you like for me to put baby orcs in your tummy?
but does thinking of doing that turn you on?
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not really my scene mate...
but does thinking of doing that turn you on?
Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
Jophiel wrote:
dragsies wrote:
Quote:
Would you like for me to put baby orcs in your tummy?
but does thinking of doing that turn you on?
QFT
#104REDACTED,
Posted: Mar 21 2006 at 5:07 PM, Rating: Sub-Default, (Expand Post) quantitative feedback theory?
Quaking Flea's Tummy!
Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
dragsies wrote:
awakening
where am i? its dark. i can feel the cold embracing me. i touch my face hoping to clearaway the darkness that clouds my mind.
something is not right, somerhing seems to be missing.
with a start i realise i am not wearing my gauntlets.
i sit up, my head pounds away like the tribal drums of the orcs...
orcs... there is something not quite right with that word...
its alien, its foreign yet it conjures up images of blood.
my head hurts.
orcs... my mind races through the beating drums.
i reach for the comfort of my sword, a sword given to me by my old master Dantain...
i cant find my sword...
i frantically search but i am greeted by empty space.
i feel sick. the drums pound on suceeding in their mind numbing incapacitation.
think... you have to think...
where am i? why cant i remmember?
the drums are joined by an image... a mage raising his hands...
his lips moving, moving, they fortell my doom.
i have to stop him. my friends rush forward.
i am frozen to the spot. i cant move. they die...
i watch them die.
one by one they fall.
i am frozen.
he turns to me and smiles.
he lifts his hands and points to me. i am engulfed by flames.
i burn.
i die.
where is the moaning coming from?
from me...
its a lie...
it wasnt real...
its never been real...
it will never be real...
no sword... no gauntlets... no drums...
is this what it means to die? or is this what it means to live...
what is more real...
the sword that i love
or the light switch i can touch...
where lies the truth...
where lies the damnation?
i pick up my chair, i switch of my computer. i open the door and face the future...
naked and without my sword...
no priest to heal me...
no mage to guide me...
no rogue to support me...
what is more real?
i am awake
where am i? its dark. i can feel the cold embracing me. i touch my face hoping to clearaway the darkness that clouds my mind.
something is not right, somerhing seems to be missing.
with a start i realise i am not wearing my gauntlets.
i sit up, my head pounds away like the tribal drums of the orcs...
orcs... there is something not quite right with that word...
its alien, its foreign yet it conjures up images of blood.
my head hurts.
orcs... my mind races through the beating drums.
i reach for the comfort of my sword, a sword given to me by my old master Dantain...
i cant find my sword...
i frantically search but i am greeted by empty space.
i feel sick. the drums pound on suceeding in their mind numbing incapacitation.
think... you have to think...
where am i? why cant i remmember?
the drums are joined by an image... a mage raising his hands...
his lips moving, moving, they fortell my doom.
i have to stop him. my friends rush forward.
i am frozen to the spot. i cant move. they die...
i watch them die.
one by one they fall.
i am frozen.
he turns to me and smiles.
he lifts his hands and points to me. i am engulfed by flames.
i burn.
i die.
where is the moaning coming from?
from me...
its a lie...
it wasnt real...
its never been real...
it will never be real...
no sword... no gauntlets... no drums...
is this what it means to die? or is this what it means to live...
what is more real...
the sword that i love
or the light switch i can touch...
where lies the truth...
where lies the damnation?
i pick up my chair, i switch of my computer. i open the door and face the future...
naked and without my sword...
no priest to heal me...
no mage to guide me...
no rogue to support me...
what is more real?
i am awake
This is what you get when you cross a tear stained emo thought journal with a MUD.
We win Allakhazam!
Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
dragsies wrote:
*yawn*
i wanna start using my real account now later dudes
i wanna start using my real account now later dudes
Ok bye!
#111REDACTED,
Posted: Mar 21 2006 at 5:32 PM, Rating: Sub-Default, (Expand Post) you guys seem to think im soneone im not???
dragsies wrote:
if your on aggramar and horde... say hello to dragsies
I'm rerolling.
#113REDACTED,
Posted: Mar 21 2006 at 8:07 PM, Rating: Sub-Default, (Expand Post) so confused.. why are people being so rude and mean because his first post was here? are people gonna start running around pointing fingers at people saying SOCK like some people do with gil sellers? Honestly people have some respect..
Quote:
so confused.. why are people being so rude and mean because his first post was here? are people gonna start running around pointing fingers at people saying SOCK like some people do with gil sellers? Honestly people have some respect..
Meep! Hope you bought a flame proof jacket.
Quote:
so confused.. why are people being so rude and mean because his first post was here? are people gonna start running around pointing fingers at people saying SOCK like some people do with gil sellers? Honestly people have some respect..
People aren't being 'rude and mean' because it was his first post, but because it was a whiney, emo, life-is-a-never-ending-pit-of-sadness piece of garbage.
Seriously, anyone who wishes they could trade their life for that of their online game persona should kill themselves.
Kindly fUck off back to the FFXI forums.
LordCecil wrote:
so confused.. why are people being so rude and mean because his first post was here? are people gonna start running around pointing fingers at people saying SOCK like some people do with gil sellers? Honestly people have some respect..
Write us an emo poem about it...
British Emo kids are teh funny!
Arch Duke Kaolian Drachensborn, lvl 95 Ranger, Unrest Server
Tech support forum | FAQ (Support) | Mobile Zam: http://m.zam.com (Premium only)
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Forum Rules
I think it's great that you find us so fascinating that you keep saying "I'm leaving you guys!" and then come back... over and over and over 
So how did the older and non-English speaking forums like your little poem?
So how did the older and non-English speaking forums like your little poem?
Belkira wrote:
Wow. Regular ol' Joph fan club in here.
Wow...default filtering comes on for a few days and I miss this fun?
dragsies, you're a freakin' tool.
dragsies, you're a freakin' tool.
publiusvarus wrote:
we all know liberals are well adjusted american citizens who only want what's best for society. While conservatives are evil money grubbing scum who only want to sh*t on the little man and rob the world of its resources.
Quote:
awakening
where am i? its dark. i can feel the cold embracing me. i touch my face hoping to clearaway the darkness that clouds my mind.
something is not right, somerhing seems to be missing.
with a start i realise i am not wearing my gauntlets.
i sit up, my head pounds away like the tribal drums of the orcs...
orcs... there is something not quite right with that word...
its alien, its foreign yet it conjures up images of blood.
my head hurts.
orcs... my mind races through the beating drums.
i reach for the comfort of my sword, a sword given to me by my old master Dantain...
i cant find my sword...
i frantically search but i am greeted by empty space.
i feel sick. the drums pound on suceeding in their mind numbing incapacitation.
think... you have to think...
where am i? why cant i remmember?
the drums are joined by an image... a mage raising his hands...
his lips moving, moving, they fortell my doom.
i have to stop him. my friends rush forward.
i am frozen to the spot. i cant move. they die...
i watch them die.
one by one they fall.
i am frozen.
he turns to me and smiles.
he lifts his hands and points to me. i am engulfed by flames.
i burn.
i die.
i scramble up in the darkness. i am alive. i am alive. .
i need my sword... where is my sword?
i reach out blindly in the dark..
i take a step forward...
my fingers brush a wall... searching... probing... my fingers
find nothing but the smooth cold wall.
its all wrong... why is the wall so smooth...
my fingers brushes against an embedded object in the wall...
a throphy plate? a wall sconce?
its a light switch.
a light switch?
the word rings with familiarity in my ear the meaning lost...
i real with the confusion of the drums and alien words that edges on the border of understanding...
light switch.
a switch for light...
i probe the object with my finger...
a switch for light... what will the light reveal...
will it reveal understanding or will it push me over the edge of madness?
i hesitate, my fingers burn with a deep routed memory... i feel my muscles twitch...
the world is flooded with light...
im still blind the world of black replaced with a world of white...
no... not blind... a white wall.
i must turn... i must face the light... i can not hide by staring at the wall...
i turn...
the drums stop...
my knees give way...
where is the moaning coming from?
from me...
its a lie...
it wasnt real...
its never been real...
it will never be real...
no sword... no gauntlets... no drums...
is this what it means to die? or is this what it means to live...
what is more real...
the sword that i love
or the light switch i can touch...
where lies the truth...
where lies the damnation?
i pick up my chair, i switch of my computer. i open the door and face the future...
naked and without my sword...
no priest to heal me...
no mage to guide me...
no rogue to support me...
what is more real?
i am awake
where am i? its dark. i can feel the cold embracing me. i touch my face hoping to clearaway the darkness that clouds my mind.
something is not right, somerhing seems to be missing.
with a start i realise i am not wearing my gauntlets.
i sit up, my head pounds away like the tribal drums of the orcs...
orcs... there is something not quite right with that word...
its alien, its foreign yet it conjures up images of blood.
my head hurts.
orcs... my mind races through the beating drums.
i reach for the comfort of my sword, a sword given to me by my old master Dantain...
i cant find my sword...
i frantically search but i am greeted by empty space.
i feel sick. the drums pound on suceeding in their mind numbing incapacitation.
think... you have to think...
where am i? why cant i remmember?
the drums are joined by an image... a mage raising his hands...
his lips moving, moving, they fortell my doom.
i have to stop him. my friends rush forward.
i am frozen to the spot. i cant move. they die...
i watch them die.
one by one they fall.
i am frozen.
he turns to me and smiles.
he lifts his hands and points to me. i am engulfed by flames.
i burn.
i die.
i scramble up in the darkness. i am alive. i am alive. .
i need my sword... where is my sword?
i reach out blindly in the dark..
i take a step forward...
my fingers brush a wall... searching... probing... my fingers
find nothing but the smooth cold wall.
its all wrong... why is the wall so smooth...
my fingers brushes against an embedded object in the wall...
a throphy plate? a wall sconce?
its a light switch.
a light switch?
the word rings with familiarity in my ear the meaning lost...
i real with the confusion of the drums and alien words that edges on the border of understanding...
light switch.
a switch for light...
i probe the object with my finger...
a switch for light... what will the light reveal...
will it reveal understanding or will it push me over the edge of madness?
i hesitate, my fingers burn with a deep routed memory... i feel my muscles twitch...
the world is flooded with light...
im still blind the world of black replaced with a world of white...
no... not blind... a white wall.
i must turn... i must face the light... i can not hide by staring at the wall...
i turn...
the drums stop...
my knees give way...
where is the moaning coming from?
from me...
its a lie...
it wasnt real...
its never been real...
it will never be real...
no sword... no gauntlets... no drums...
is this what it means to die? or is this what it means to live...
what is more real...
the sword that i love
or the light switch i can touch...
where lies the truth...
where lies the damnation?
i pick up my chair, i switch of my computer. i open the door and face the future...
naked and without my sword...
no priest to heal me...
no mage to guide me...
no rogue to support me...
what is more real?
i am awake
Guys....
This guy here is a true poet ,can't you see ?
Jophiel wrote:
dragsies wrote:
Quote:
Would you like for me to put baby orcs in your tummy?
but does thinking of doing that turn you on?
I have a feeling chewing gum wouldn't get rid of THAT rumbling...
dragsies wrote:
At least i now have first hand experience why the world Hates America...
Actually, you have first-hand experience why America hates you...
dragsies wrote:
As a younger generation of the most media controlled, paranoid, hated nation on earth i would have thought you would have wanted to change all of that...
Eh, Fu[Aqua][/Aqua]ck em. We have bigger nukes.
Arch Duke Kaolian Drachensborn, lvl 95 Ranger, Unrest Server
Tech support forum | FAQ (Support) | Mobile Zam: http://m.zam.com (Premium only)
Forum Rules
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Forum Rules
Pointless waste of time? Poetry? Meh. I generally think most poetry sucks, not just the OPs, which was, however icnredibly, stupidly lame, if only for the reason it was based around WoW. Poetry is an expression of emotion, something that is hard to create when depicting the movements and thoughts of a toon.
It can be done... but not like that. Not like that. *shakesh head sadly*
But now I've had my mini rant, time to include myself in the flames. Because I can. My own poetry, while not emo in my eyes, is pretty sucky and old.
The silver spirit, swirling forever
On Icarus wings, leading me higher.
My soul, drifting lighter than a feather
Stops, cast down, falling without time to tire.
A blistered youth with bloody, tattered wings -
Scarred by the brightness of better things.
It can be done... but not like that. Not like that. *shakesh head sadly*
But now I've had my mini rant, time to include myself in the flames. Because I can. My own poetry, while not emo in my eyes, is pretty sucky and old.
The silver spirit, swirling forever
On Icarus wings, leading me higher.
My soul, drifting lighter than a feather
Stops, cast down, falling without time to tire.
A blistered youth with bloody, tattered wings -
Scarred by the brightness of better things.
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