SAO LILDOOP

Title: Language of the Universe (Like an Endless Flood) Bath towels and Cigarettes, long nights unaccompanied by rest, warm water above this bloody drain; I'm being drained myself, I'm being drained. The drip drop of the faucet like an endless flood, wading through this water, wading through this mud. And the language of the universe, it knows my name. The language of the universe knows my name... I'm not the same, I'm not the same. And the drip drop of the faucet like an endless flood. I wish I could turn it off but the handles broken. I wish I could shut it out but there's a crack underneath every door! There's a crack underneath every door... Am I really living anymore? This intrusive song echoing from beyond like a chinese gong, how long will it last, how long? How long can I last? I can't deal with my past! Because she's always got the joker and all I've got's the queen. And the drip drop of the faucet like an endless flood. These sounds, they used to remind me of incandescent youth, when I was ignorant of the truth, when we... This song. And I wish I could turn it off but the handles broken! The handles broken! The handles broken! And I wish I could shut it out but I'm broken... there's no way out. And the knock at my door doesn't remind me anymore, of: her touch, her smile, But only that of a corps's... And her tongue sounds the same with much less flavour and her palates unchanging even in danger, or when informed by a stranger... Yet I've been here all the while, learning a second language to justify it. But waters water even to the dead, the lame, the blind and those I try to keep out of my mind! And my mind... "I'm just a sojourner here, I don't understand your language!" I wish I could say, but she'd only respond, "Then what's with that tear?" in drip drops, the language of the universe like an endless flood... I can see it on his brow, in her frown, in the hiding of her face beneath her wedding gown... When will I drown In the language of the universe like an endless flood?

Title: Porcelain Heart ♥ When the day is young and the bells been rung I'll lie awake in this song I've sung. And the scene will go with a flash of yellow, my heart aglow and maybe a pinch of snow. And I'll lie in bed, 'cause I don't care. Those tears I dread can't find me here. Inside my head its Christmas day, strapped in tight to Santa's sleigh. Phone in hand and flight laws broken just to leave that girl a token, of the word's I've spoken... under the covers with furry lovers. My breath's so hot and my arm aches, but its so easy how the bone breaks. And the clock ticks on nonjudgmentally as if it too is ignoring me. The moonlight calls us all sometimes, that's not easy to forget living in these words and rhymes. But I just wish we could forgo the silent callings of the world we know, so we could know one another. Y'know its funny, times not cheap but neither is money and when you work that hard the world sure looks sunny. But cooped up in these porcelain walls I cannot hear those distant calls. I'm not a child and I know Santa's gone, but I just wish his miss could hear this song... Because I'm warmblooded in the winter and cold every other time, and no dollar or dime could break that rhyme. But it's not like I've forgotten the days spent outside, no, in autumn there were a lot. And its not like I've forgotten the days spent on the road, friends side by side and the grass not mowed. No, every time I look outside I can feel that charcoal heat on the bottom's of my feet. I can feel that wind around my eyes and the length between the ground and the skies. And I can smell that smell, so familiar, like a breath of tobacco and a whiff of ginger. But I don't like to linger. If I had to choose between school halls or bathroom stalls I'd choose the latter. But I prefer glass walls where the tick-tock of the clock reverberates like an echo in outer space. Because if the former took first place I'd only ever see that face, and I don't have a can of mace to erase that image from my mind... So I stay inside all day and play, after all, don't all kids wish they could live that way? Now the tree stands tall and the leaves conceal... nothing, nothing to steal. Yes, the tree and me, we've one thing in common; we're both dead inside on this Christmas joy-ride. And I know there are millions, but what happened to the ones place, there are billions but what happened to the "smile on every child's face?" And I can feel it, that Christmas spirit, only when I'm allowed to come right near it, or when they take it in their hands and smear it right on my eyes, "See, look what Santa buys". Why do the naughty kids punishments get prioritized? They'll just fight it out when the fire dies. You get it don't you, you see it too, right? The cold gnawing of this Christmas night? "Loneliness makes it worse and so I wish you might, come and speak with me tonight?" Nothing, whether artful or described could touch me like this, natures call from the mist. The beep of the phone, the flash of the light, it resonates within these walls tonight. Now I can't find the door or maybe I don't want to because these walls are made of glass, light enough to punch through! Now out in the cold, mittens drenched with blood, (or is it the other way around?) I plod onward listening for that sound. But I've never heard her voice, nor the choir and that's always been my choice, so now I'll live like a liar. Any voice will do, its hers its true! Any voice, any voice will get me through. But I feel a cold crunch like the cracking of ice and I feel a sharp pain I've only felt twice. And I know its not nice, its not what you wanted, but I've got no rhymes to return to, no plan B's plotted. So I'll just sit down and stare at my hand, glass protruding and blood pouring from every bruise. But I'm numb and don't feel a thing, this winter will chill me right through this wound. And on this Floridan Christmas evening I will catch frost bite. ♥

Thanks, I think I'll buy the game soon then.

So I have been trying to get my hands on Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Allstar Battle on PS3 for a while now but I can't find one that isn't sold from Japan. I don't know if I bought the Japanese one whether it would play or not on my Canadian console so I have not bought it. I know PS3 games are not region locked but do Japanese imported PS3 games, despite not being region locked, have to be played on like a 100HZ PS3 or can they work on the U.S/Canadian versions? Thanks.

136 Friendship, Folly and the Search for Acceptance: My Decision: Fourth Chapter Chapter 4: My Decision He's a friend, who sticks with you till the end. He's a friend who's loyalty does not bend. He's a friend who's shoulder is always wet. Yes, he's a friend you'd never forget. He's a friends who waits for you till the end. He's a friend who does not condescend. He's a friend who'll for you catch others in his net. Yes, he's a friend you'd never repent. He's a friend who see's the best in others. He's a friend who forgives you're failures. He's a friend who writes birthday letters. Yes, he's the friend you'd wish for in you're prayers. He's a friend who best see's through shutters. He's a friend who to protect you plays pretend. He's a friend respecting of his elders. Yet, he's the friend you curse with you're tears. He's a friend devoted to life. He's a friend trying to stay in touch. He's a friend devoid of all strife. Yet, what can be said of such? He's a friend devoted to you. He's a friend from you, but a touch. He's a friend devoid of all life. Yes, what must be said of such? Two friends, one mind. Two hands, outstretched but one time. Two voices, one line. Two choices, one rhyme. Goodbyes are overrated, hello's overstated. Living friends overexaggerated, corpses underappreciated. Pray for the damaged? I say pray for the damned. Fasten your corsage and into hell walk, hand in hand. I've taken for myself a final stand. Created from happiness my own brand. Idealism is fascism and this poem narcissism. And through true is the above, you envy her don't you? -Friendship, folly and the Search for Acceptance: My Decision. Fourth Chapter. Chrysanthymum M.W. 1994. Ed. Death. Unpublished.

It starts first with the thumping, in the heart an anthem rising and from there free-will compromising. Up and down, plod and drown, one with he, one with she. It continues then by taking root of your mind, of your soul; natures goal, logic in the morgue. Dig your plot, its where you'll rot, but dirt is beautiful and sunlight overrated. It's brighter below. Now you're a mole, digging through coal without a prayer for your soul, yes, you are that thumping in the earth, the progenitor of that ever-rising curse. The blind lead the blind and those with sight bind. The blood of men, women and children, it feeds the earth. Blood and water, a holy resurgence giving way to new birth. Veins to roots and roots to snare, well, is it any different up there? Eye's go blurry and minds do spin, bodies grow weary and necks grow thin; however to be wary, now thats a sin. Collect their spines, collect their heads and place them gently into their beds. Then commences the whispering, a goodbye to history, starting first with the stinging and then with the misery; first with the singing and then with the novelty. Come now, join the row, plod and plow and don't ask how... And it all ends with the entrapment of the tongue. Feel that cold heat on your lung and it will tell you your last words been sung. The gongs been rung, the throng thrung and the battle won and those lying dead? None. Corpses close not their eyes, nor lay down to sleep, nor awaken to eat bread; but unwilfully bob in dread, for hellfire cradles them instead.

Title: Untitled It's funny, this feeling. Compression, I'm reeling, laugh track and I'm bleeding yet smiling while pleading. My nerves have gone haywire, my mind is on fire, I'd tell you the truth but then... I'm a liar. I'd ask you to stop, but can I quit? Getting back on top won't stop this trip. I'm down on my knees and I'm begging you please, but what for? I'm your whore and I screw with such ease... Gimp with a lighter, today I'm a fighter, tomorrow a dead man or something much brighter. Now you're holding me down but not like you used to, crying and saying that I've abused you? That look in your eye, mistress why? I swear I'd cry but then I'd die. Noble friends, brass, now distant murmurs of the past. Even the sun's beginning to look downcast. I sleep with a demon, a freak in the sheets, can't stop believing I'm wearing cleats. Mother is grieving and I don't know why, sister's deceiving dad by and by. The whole world's gone haywire and I'm just sitting her, one foot in the fire and one hand on the beer. Got a cold and a fever, just want to be near her, but I can tell now that death's drawing nearer. Hazel and crimson encircle my mind, in this torturous prison there's no time to unwind. This torture... The eyes of a loved one, the mind a demon, but not like the one that I could believe in. She'd hurt me, she'd kiss me, she'd show me no mercy, but it was a choice, and in that laid consistency. I choke on the misery, the pills I can't swallow, revel in the pity and wish for tomorrow; but I know... I cannot escape this sorrow. And now it's tomorrow, yesterday was then, a new body I've borrowed, my pain feels like a sin. She caresses my cheek and lifts up my chin, but things look bleak, because I am dead within. My posture has fallen and cannot return, my blood has slowed and cannot churn. I flinch at her touch and she flinches at mine, it's all too much, what's happened this time? A life in the grey, monotonous play, sacrilegious missionary, secretive orgy. I wish we could stop, but then, could we quit? Getting back on top would require a fit... Note: Sorry I didn't title this poem, but I couldn't think of a name befitting it. Hope you liked it anyway.

I just bought Tales of Berseria to play with my siblings and some awesome red leather high heels (my first pair, btw).

Lol, looks like Steven Crowder.

Mad World is my all-time favorite song, always reminds me of Donnie Darko but also just really hits me hard and makes me sad; but y'know, sometimes you just wanna be sad? If a song can make you feel something strongly I believe it to be a good song and Mad World can make my emotions go crazy, it's a beautiful (and haunting) song. You're post had me goin' and looping it, lol. ~♥ (Sry for the fan-girling, haha) Also, me, my dad and my siblings were just playing this game like this a while ago; but we had to guess what the lyrics were from. Sadly, only my sister shares my music taste in my family, lol. Okay, ahem... Time to post some song lyrics. "Oh dear, I don't wanna be a burden, but could you please be a little more concerned with the overactive mind of a believer, the toxic thoughts of an overachiever" ... Faith Marie "Toxic Thoughts"

Now that I have begun binging Jojo I have been listening to this song a lot; YES is such an awesome band!

Dude, I would love a Jojo's Bizarre adventure open world game with a story mode ranging all the way through the upcoming season 6. Also, multiplayer would be necessary and one story mode was finished I would there to be an option to play as any character you wanted. I think it would be crazy fun to play as Dio and make your very own army of vampires, somewhat like what you can do with orcs in the "Shadow of" series. Not to mention just a really fun versus mode, something like, J-stars but with actual frame data and no limits to where one could go. I know, its a lot, lol.