The One About Inori

Im hooked on it!

I read the guidebook as if I were studying for an exam. I plan my moves in the game.

FinalFantasyXII

Being an ardent fan of all FF games, I would think that this installment has a very steep learning curve. And way too many side stories.

I’m lazy, so I rely heavily on my guidebook.

If I didn’t have a guidebook, I would have died more than 100 times by now.

Gone are the days when battle systems were so easy.
The story is darker, more confusing, making me go “WTF?” alot. But I still like it quite abit.

After awhile, players will get used to the new battle system as well as the licence board. Helps if you were already a FF player.

My posts are getting boring. Coz on the whole, I think I’m becoming even more boring than I was before.

Blame the fatigue. Blame everything except me.

Deeper into depression.

Not a good period for me.

I’ve been spending more time on my PS2, playing Final Fantasy XII.

A way to escape my troubles.

Yeah, I’m an escapist.

Funny how whenever Nad calls me to ask how I am, at that point, I’m actually feeling okay and happy. After he puts down the phone, a few minutes later, SOMETHING will nudge me over the edge and trigger helplessness.

I wish my life will be a short one. I don’t want to live a long life.

I’m trying out something to the commenting box. I’ve been getting way too much spam.

I do not need viagra. I do not need vicodin. I do not need a longer penis either.

So all these spamming bots can go to hell and stop bothering me.

There was a boy named Conor.

His parents were together, well, amazingly, considering the fact they were junkies.

Conor tasted Valium since he was a little boy.

He smoked and took drugs on the regular basis, his arm usually bruised with all the IV shots.

He stayed in a one room apartment. He does not have a girlfriend. He does not have sex.

He has no friends. Except those that he snorts coke with. But then again, they’re not really his friends.

Conor is weak. In many ways. His life? He has no life.

He sits in the gutter smoking one day after being high. In broad daylight.

A man comes along. He askes Conor for a light. Conor said he doesn’t have a light.

The man takes the cigarette from Conor’s mouth and says,

“Ya fuckin’ have no light but ya fukin’ smoking?”

Before Conor could reply, the man takes out his semi-automatic and shoots Conor in his head.

The police knocks on Conor’s door. His parents, albeit drunk, felt remorseful but think that they had no part to play in this.

Conor sits on his bed. Stoned. His eyes stare blankly at nothing…. Like his future – nothing.

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Just a fictitious story that is running through my head. I’m smoking again!

Aw crap, no one has to care.