Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

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I love the PM systems, especially since you can search for members after their name now, even if they don't have a profile!

It's a kickass feature. =)

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At 6/8/06 04:59 AM, Andersson wrote: I love the PM systems, especially since you can search for members after their name now, even if they don't have a profile!

It's a kickass feature. =)

And apparently is going to have extra features and some sort of 'excellent' addition to the profile.

So the rumours are.

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At 6/8/06 05:54 AM, Gamehippy wrote: So the rumours are.

I'm glad if they're true. =)

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At 6/8/06 04:59 AM, Andersson wrote: I love the PM systems, especially since you can search for members after their name now, even if they don't have a profile!

I searched for Bahamut. No profile, but I sent him a PM.

It's a kickass feature. =)

Indeed it is. Hopefully more kickass features will appear.

At 6/7/06 11:34 PM, MALforPresident wrote: guess i'll never have any messages in my inbox

Are you sure?

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Stirred By A Log

Cool spring days, at dusk,
When sol has just set, and robust
Hues of crimson and pink
Drape the pond’s smooth surface,
Painting peaceful pictures, perfect.

I stall near the water’s edge, caught,
Balanced on a soft and old gray rock.

My eyes slant out toward the body’s center
And rest on an object so peculiar.
Held in place, a tranquil position,
Is a log of mild disposition.

Absurd, yes?
Logs have no temperament.
Merely drab conglomerations of
Apathetic matter and elements.

However I’m certain this log thinks,
As he floats aimlessly in the pink.

A true sage, sagacious and wise.
He despises rash decisions and close minds.
‘For every choice has both bad and good’,
I assume is the logic of this philosophic wood.
He chooses to make no choices, in itself a paradox, though he doesn’t care.

A sublime ideal, with few real
Applications in my life,
So solid, and stolid.

The ponds I float in rage,
And tempestuous storms wage
Bloodless battles,
Stirring and swirling.

No time to relax, no time for ideals.

Cowardly I keep to routine,
Indulging in unneeded choices
That inevitably write the novel of my being.

Its unfortunate we’re not developed enough to overcome paradox.

Excuses.
I know full well indecision is a blessing.
Yet I cling so earnestly to apathy, lessening
My character, weakening my meager novel’s plot.

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At 6/10/06 02:06 AM, deathtuna wrote: Stirred By A Log

Cool spring days, at dusk,
When sol has just set, and robust
Hues of crimson and pink
Drape the pond’s smooth surface,
Painting peaceful pictures, perfect.

I stall near the water’s edge, caught,
Balanced on a soft and old gray rock.

My eyes slant out toward the body’s center
And rest on an object so peculiar.
Held in place, a tranquil position,
Is a log of mild disposition.

Absurd, yes?
Logs have no temperament.
Merely drab conglomerations of
Apathetic matter and elements.

However I’m certain this log thinks,
As he floats aimlessly in the pink.

A true sage, sagacious and wise.
He despises rash decisions and close minds.
‘For every choice has both bad and good’,
I assume is the logic of this philosophic wood.
He chooses to make no choices, in itself a paradox, though he doesn’t care.

A sublime ideal, with few real
Applications in my life,
So solid, and stolid.

The ponds I float in rage,
And tempestuous storms wage
Bloodless battles,
Stirring and swirling.

No time to relax, no time for ideals.

Cowardly I keep to routine,
Indulging in unneeded choices
That inevitably write the novel of my being.

Its unfortunate we’re not developed enough to overcome paradox.

Excuses.
I know full well indecision is a blessing.
Yet I cling so earnestly to apathy, lessening
My character, weakening my meager novel’s plot.

Sleeping through the evening singing dreams inside my head
I'm heading out I've got some ins who say they care and they just might
I run away with you if things don't go as planned
Planning big could be a gamble I've already rolled the dice
I spit and stutter stuff and clutter worries in my worried corner
Maladjusted just untrusted rusted sometimes brilliant busted thoughts
Think I'll stay for a while I'm intrigued and I'm red as a newborn white as a corpse

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Love Does Not Exsist (song)

You make me want to cry out blood.
Fuck life, fuck it all; I don't need this!
You make me wanna scream out shit.
Fuck me, fuck you; Who really needs this?!

Why does this pain persist?
You showed love does not exsist!

All I think about is you.
Being who you wanted to.
Never caring about me,
or how I wanted things to be.
All I think about is you.
But what good does that do?

You make me want to rip my heart out.
Why did I ever leave it open?!
You make me want to bash my head in.
What was I ever thinking?!

Why does this pain persist?
You showed love does not exsist!

I'll say goodbye to you.
Love is over now.
I'm fucking through.
_________________________________

Not how I feel in real life, but I needed to vent out a lot of my anger toward "love".

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At 6/10/06 02:43 AM, Quisty wrote: Love Does Not Exsist (song)

Ah, that one was good. =)

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At 6/10/06 10:31 AM, Andersson wrote: Ah, that one was good. =)

Thanks. I'm going away for a bit, again. I have no reason to be online when I'm ignored. No, I'm not talking about you :P But thanks for liking my poem ^_^

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FGSFDS

Sup, people. Long time no see. I know I show up for a day or so then dissapear for a month...thats just me nowadays though.
Latley I have taken a break from flash a little (since my damn draw tablet hasn't showed up yet)
So, instead I'm going back to the basic funs. b33r, videogames, and more b33r.
I discovered the glory of using custom Skins in garry's mod, and it's paying off quite WELL
I made a few vidoe's of random game play and hosted them on Youtube...uhh you can check them out if you want, just click :
Here

Anyway, I'm gunna get drunk, and talk on irc, wanna join in? Server: zirc Just /msg Onic

Laters.

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At 6/11/06 10:55 PM, Onic wrote: Latley I have taken a break from flash a little (since my damn draw tablet hasn't showed up yet)

I hope it shows up soon, I quite like your flash, Onic.

At 6/12/06 01:05 AM, DaSadGirl wrote: Quisty, quit taking things up the ass before I put something up in yours. >;)

I bet the girls are just flocking to get with you :P

At 6/10/06 02:43 AM, Quisty wrote: Love Does Not Exsist (song)

I like the way it looks, but to truly appreciate it, I need to hear it sung. What instruments?

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A revision of an older piece... looking for comments. I am trying to get on here as much as I can this summer... starting now. Enjoy.

And then it showers...

The stench – that cold, dry stench was all I could focus my thoughts on in that small, bright-white office. The stink lingered in my mouth like the ache of a bad cough, and it spread faster every second. My tongue, a sum of paste, begged for liquid, and with that feeling on my mind I converged with my surroundings. The buzzing in the room: moments ago, the product of numbing senses was, in fact, the man in front of me. He had begun speaking long before I began listening. He was preaching to the wrong assembly.

The sun, funnelling through the window like thin layers of ice, masking the surfaces of furniture with individual hues of intensity, grasped the few particles of dust that feathered in the air. I stared aimlessly into this common phenomenon unable to look the man directly in the eyes. He could have been Christ, or he could have been my accountant: he was void to me. He was the hollow hair of a polar bear.

The man, whose white coat was perfectly camouflaged for the room, and gave the impression of a suspended head, lifted from his seat, sounding like subway closing doors, to merely travel around his desk towards my solar plexus. A migration to comfort a loved one in foreign lands expresses a positive family support system, but a migration to comfort a perfect stranger is a lost cause. I’d rather words of false hope.

He sat on the edge of his working space, and – without words, but with emotion – told me the truth I dreadfully feared. I stared blankly, frozen by the sunder that is Zeus’ bolt. Blood pooled in my ears as he finally spoke the deafening words. There was a certain odd professionalism about his demeanour, and he gravelled the comfort of my seat more than he did cushion. O God, you seem childish in your splendour, but I still love you dearly. O God, I could use a Lay-Z-Boy. It was clockwork, routine; an awkward arrogance that looked down on my position with eerie pity. His head turned towards the ground, still suspended, but as if he had been hung in my place. A slight smile appeared across his face as humour acquired the best of my uncomfortable and uncanny placing in the room, ‘quoth the raven.’

Life can be funny - ironic. Though the irony is laced with pain and undoubtedly, whether the man’s words accurate or not, followed by the teachings of a karma invested religion – be it outright, or conformed with age. Like wine, let it age. And there lies my elegy of rain: when it drops once, it drops twice. When it rains on the night of your birth, it rains on the day of your death. And as each one of us seems to take granted not the objects or subjects of our being, but the being itself, I wonder what supremacy explores the entity we each embody. However, even when life can be as unforgiving as summer rain, with a choke it can be the opposite, and every being would rather be than not at all. That is, until such a day.

The man’s infinite gaze at the ground before him marked the moment, upon rebelling from my seat and walking towards the door. It was then I realized that a routine emotion could still be as meaningful as the first time. I nodded, my lips pressed tightly, my eyelids evaporating with my step, and he nodded back. I left that odour behind me, trailing like a benevolent wind under a summer dress, and it was nevermore.

The day, lightly covered in fingernail grout like dust falls on the living room glass table, bared an infantile resemblance to my youth schoolyard, and the wry fists of pre-teenage bullies. The streets smelt like my sweltering garage, with a tinge of antibacterial soap rising from my palms. Decomposing as time steers my fate, I watch the sidewalk crack beneath my feet.

With my cell phone in one hand, and a hundred faces before me, I simply stare. I always thought the world would seem more brilliant: colours more vivid; nature more inspiring; people all equal. I always thought I would enjoy my decomposing. I always thought I’d become more brilliant. Instead, I watch ants climb sewer drains as the concrete magnifies the sun on my right back pocket. It burns.

I have never been more fragile. I have never been freer. I have never been at the touch of eternal dusk - while it showers on my glass embrace. Here I lie unconscious - never being unafraid.

Until now.

________

and a couple poems too:

for one moment

for one moment,
your eyes were the butterflies
of Eskimos in an ankle deep playground.

for one moment,
your legs were tide-clean stones
basking in the dripping sun, craving inundation.

you were once the arid wheat field
in the care of a withered cypress tree,

(there are many eyes)

and I was the incessant vacant wind
that traveled from opulent lissom flora.

for one moment,
my chest was cardboard
compacted and never collected by the callow.

for one moment,
when goodbyes tongue,
we were each other’s top shelf closet.

( -- try to understand,
the ground never answers)

then we feign,
like infatuated children,
that we will obtain another moment
tomorrow.

...because...

life without meaning

(that is, shattered rocks
in heaps of sevens
counted by working-child hands)

does not exist
FADE DOWN!

(sinking blank face with closed eyes
whistling the panic tune
and dyeing the waters
with iris)

heads up.

(HEADS UP! but less enthused)

knowing an answer
if only one nothing:
there dumps drinking bottles filled with apocalypse

(rich, pale youth
coloured, in real culture
idolizing crooked economic canes
of jail-bird hookers)

the real lies within the meaning

(voluptuous ethnic women
rocking on the creaking porch
of sugar-cane labour,
working the-soon-sore lips:

----------------(copper death-bed iced with envelopes
filled with burial money for the expecting) ----------------

their genitalia now red, and sore)

SMACK. Smack. SMACK.
in all this,
nothing exists.

I hate how NG ruins the layout of a poem... my dA account has them the way they should be (indentation and all).

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At 6/13/06 05:01 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: And then it showers...

A nice dark little monologue there.

I liked the poems, but I really seem to have a mental block, making me truly incapable of appreciating the poems properly

I hate how NG ruins the layout of a poem... my dA account has them the way they should be (indentation and all).

Yeah, maybe you should consider emailing Tom or Wade. You're still buddies with them, aren't you?

Great to have you back

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Good to see you again Myst. =)

I'll soon post some poetry aswell since I know it's been a long time since I last did so.

I started to write on one the other day that so far has turned out real good. Normally I take ten to fifteen minutes to put one together but I felt like I needed to take a bit of a rest on this one to make it better. I can thereby get some perspective on it and make it longer than it is at the moment.

I've realised that I also have the potential to write long poems and should put some effort into this one. Although, I tend to re-write those I've posted once here and in my own poetry thread. I believe it's good to go back to some poems and re-write them to add those things you wanted to have in them but couldn't really explain at the moment.

Oh, such as taking off some stuff aswell.

Lately I've just done a lot of scribbling but has gained loads of material and (hate to use the word again) perspective on new subjects I'd like to write about.

War hasn't really been the main subject any longer... it's although what's expressed in the word 'war' that I'm after... um, it's a broad subject I guess... for me it's about everything from faith, freedom and hope to disbelief, captivity and slavery... mental as physical.

I guess it's up to each one of the reader... some people just can't find certain subjects and genres good, I've learned that. I've tried to involve emotions, feelings and meanings - vent my mind and most of all, through a mix of vivid scenery and information by hidden meanings, get an effect on people that could bring them to tears, hatred or whatever really.

It's any of the emotions you'd feel that I've tried to burst onto the reader. It may sound cheesy, god I don't know, but it's like with music; you got to have some history related to what either the lyrics or sounds generate to engage your own mind into it.

If you don't feel you can relate to the piece, if it's too distant, you'll just throw it out the window. I've got respons from people where that clearly has happened.

But okay, most important may although be that I can relate to what I write, and ofcourse I can.

Hm, that all sums up to the fact that you'll see more from me.

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At 6/14/06 05:36 AM, Coop83 wrote: Yeah, maybe you should consider emailing Tom or Wade. You're still buddies with them, aren't you?

Buddies? lol, I was never buddies with them. I doubt Tom would even remember me, but we did email back and forth for some time about the NG Mag... which he still hasnt found the time to work on. :P

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At 6/14/06 02:39 PM, Andersson wrote: Good to see you again Myst. =)

Good to see you're still kicking around!

Hm, that all sums up to the fact that you'll see more from me.

Haha... ya... that really was in depth. I agreed with most of it too.

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At 6/14/06 10:06 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: Buddies? lol, I was never buddies with them. I doubt Tom would even remember me, but we did email back and forth for some time about the NG Mag... which he still hasnt found the time to work on. :P

Trust in the Fulp! He says it's being done, so it's being done

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At 6/14/06 10:09 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: Good to see you're still kicking around!

Heh, yeah currently just somewhat less active on the forums, but I'm still around yeah, and if you plan to visit us more often, I certianly will be here more aswell.

By the way, speaking of which, you'd like me to deposit for you?

Haha... ya... that really was in depth. I agreed with most of it too.

Hehe, well yeah I seem to love to write about my poetry. XD

Anyways, here is the place where I plan to put my poetry in the feature.

I thought about making quite a big place out of it, for different poets aswell, so if anyone is intrested, just tell me.

I'll hand pick the poets though, and content from other poets.

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lots of good writings in here people, glad to see it still going on, how is everyone??? no new features besides the pm system well maybe later down the road...

~X~

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and all of a sudden my inbox got flooded heh, anyways its late night here well sorta, i purchased 2 ps2 games tonight...

pikmen 2 cause the first was fun...

Espn baseball i have not had a new baseball game in awhile so this should be fun...

~X~

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At 6/16/06 02:39 AM, XwaynecoltX wrote: and all of a sudden my inbox got flooded heh, anyways its late night here well sorta, i purchased 2 ps2 games tonight...
~X~

Make a poem or something. Maybe a story. Like, you haven't made things in a long time and it would be cool to see that.

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Basket seems pretty funny afterall. I played with two friends yesterday, the two of them against me. We didn't count the scores but I believe I scored most times. =)

Heh, anyways, I'm gonna go and play now again and then I guess we'll swim.

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I just noticed how andersson puts his e-mail and asking about related ng stuff lol its funny, anyways what have you been upto ~A~

~X~

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Hey everybody, I'm posting a bit more regularily like I used to!
Got my new draw tablet for the pooter, so I'm back on the flash shit again, gunna pump out a new flash probably tommorow, I'll post a link in here for those of you who care.
Besides that, got off work earlier and am working on getting snockered as usual.
Good times!

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Onic is that pic endorsed by budwiser, because they might sue if they dont know your posting it LOL

~X~

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At 6/17/06 01:54 AM, DaSadGirl wrote: Don't question Andersson's sig, ok?! He's the NewgroundsNoItAll.

LOL so i heard around the bbs, more like want to be heh, we need a poem hehe...

~X~

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At 6/16/06 02:17 PM, XwaynecoltX wrote: anyways what have you been upto ~A~

Hm, mostly hanging around with friends. Summer holidays started a week back for me. =)

What have you been up to?

At 6/17/06 01:54 AM, DaSadGirl wrote:

At 6/16/06 02:17 PM, XwaynecoltX wrote: I just noticed how andersson puts his e-mail and asking about related ng stuff lol its funny, anyways what have you been upto ~A~

Don't question Andersson's sig, ok?! He's the NewgroundsNoItAll.

Haha, no I putted it there so new members can send their Newgrounds related questions to me. Simple. *Shrugs*

Afterall, there's always someone who needs help with things around here.

By the way, hey on you Onic.

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Well, I finally got my electicity turned back on. it was off for well over a month. I no longer get urges to watch tv though, and I'm re-learning the conveniance of a microwave.

So, how's everyone else.

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At 6/17/06 05:53 AM, MasterStalker wrote: Well, I finally got my electicity turned back on. it was off for well over a month. I no longer get urges to watch tv though, and I'm re-learning the conveniance of a microwave.

Blackout or not paying for it?

So, how's everyone else.

Good, mainly awesome. =P

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At 6/17/06 01:48 AM, XwaynecoltX wrote: Onic is that pic endorsed by budwiser, because they might sue if they dont know your posting it LOL

~X~

Pfft, budweiser practicaly has a wing in their factory that was payed for by me.
I think they wouldn't mind.