Sardonic Nova {When All Else Fails}
#1
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7/24/14: I complain for the first time

By the time I've made this post, I've become a somewhat familiar face around here at Turquoise. If you haven't met me before, hi! My name is Skylar, but most people call me Sardonic Nova. I'm far too lazy to write a real introduction to myself, so you can help yourself to this link if you're really craving information about the idiot writing this page.

I decided to create this blog for the same reason I seem to exist; to complain. I tend to complain a lot, but I also tend to dance around my words in a strange attempt not to offend people, because unfortunately, I'm very cautious about the things I say and am pretty much terrified of having any original thoughts because I'm afraid of agitating people. Basically, what you see here is some sad excuse for a fourteen-year-old sentient being who spends his time writing, drawing, and moderating a Pokémon forum. Pretty great, huh?

At the moment, I'm an especially sorry excuse for a fourteen-year-old sentient being. My parents have flocked to California, probably in a last-ditch effort to get some time alone before my wiles kill them, so I've managed to get onto the one computer in the house that's not absolutely riddled with viruses and Parental Monitoring programmes (those two likely overlap more often than is probably okay). I'm not sure why my parents thought installing Parental Monitoring programmes onto my incredibly buggy computer was an idea of a calibre even slightly above complete and total fruitless bullshit, but there's very little I can do about it.

Jut before my father left for California, he came into my room at about three in the morning as loud as any human being can really be, clutching my iPod in his right hand and a balled set of fingers in the other. iPod is to Skylar as coplorite is to dinosaur; basically, if you look through my shit, you're going to find out way more about me than you ever cared to know. In fact, you'll probably find about a lot about me that I didn't want you to know, so seeing the one person who has complete and total control over my life clutching all of my secrets in his hand was pretty terrifying. Fortunately, I had put a passcode on the old thing just to prevent this. I mean, who was indecent enough to wake up their child in the middle of the night and force him to blurt out his iPod password so you can rummage through it?

Apparently he is. I actually fell asleep after reporting the first digit and he angrily shook me back awake. I woke up in the morning and he was long gone, and by the looks of it, so was my iPod. Fortunately it was on his dresser; not sure what I would have done if it weren't.

The thing is, I happen to be in cahoots with someone I'm really not supposed to be in cahoots with at all. I'm really not doing anything indecent; in fact, this person is really quite a nice and innocuous person indeed, but it's an Internet person, and everyone knows that we just can't talk to those sorts of people. After all, you all are hairy fifty-year-old men waiting for some kid to jump into your trap, right?

I changed said person's name to the name of my Facebook friend, but she's relatively unique in the way she speaks and I'm sure if my dad had any critical thinking skills at all (which, by the hand of God, he does not) he would be able to tell who she was. Actually, just looking at her contact information would literally give the entire thing away, but the poor old man can't even figure out how to do that much. It's as though he doesn't know how to work a piece of technology that doesn't work off of a joystick and a single red button. I suppose I'm safe for now, but it sort of jarred me.

The very next day, I found that my father had left a letter behind that reminded my quite clearly of the duties I was meant to uphold while he was away. I thought perhaps, since he was on the other side of the country, I could escape his wrath for just a week, but I was foolish to even suggest the notion to myself. I've broken free a few times and his absence means that no one is here to tell me, "Hey, get off of there! Go sweep the kitchen for the hundredth time," or something of the like... hence this. To be completely honest, this is the biggest accomplishment I've made this summer. Ideally, that is a pretty sad thing to suggest, but it is made all the more depressing by the fact that I'm not exaggerating even a little.

I'd better not wear any of you out; after all, if I make all my posts this long, no one will want to read them anymore. Which is probably for the best, but I'm going to pretend like what I'm saying is interesting, and it's probably best if you play along. Oh, by the way, this blog is going to consist of a mixture of my rants and answers to virtually any questions you might fire my way, so don't hesitate to ask if you have any question you'd like to hear me answer!
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#2
It's not too long a post. And it's quite interesting and entertaining to me, I mean, to those who've gone and done that and been through it already... a long while back.. ^^() By all means continue, Nova. We all need some sort of outlet at one point or another. ^^
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#3
So, what, you're not allowed to have an online social life or listen to music ever? The iPod thing was out of line, that thing's YOURS and YOUR interests, he has no right to sift through every last bit of it. *headdesk* I fail to see how what's on an iPod could possibly connect with the dangers of the internet. And, from what I've seen of you around, you're more than capable of looking after yourself online, so I personally see no reason why you shouldn't be allowed. Your dad's a real jerk.

I personally like walls of text and ranting, expect me to be following this.
This often catches me out, too, but Xander the Crocoal is female.
Avi by DevArt user DragonA7X, taken from here. Free to use.
'...No matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful.'--SCP-1342
'One voice is small, but the difference between zero and one is as great as one and infinity.'--SCP-1281
[Image: 76561198157421562.png]
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#4
(07-24-2014, 05:40 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote: So, what, you're not allowed to have an online social life or listen to music ever?
Well, having an online social life is pretty worthless to him; my father is the sort who could sell a ketchup popsicle to a woman in white gloves on a hot day. He thinks social interaction is extremely important, but only in the real world; he doesn't even have a Facebook or anything, really, despite the fact that it would probably be quite helpful in his line of work.
(07-24-2014, 05:40 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote: The iPod thing was out of line, that thing's YOURS and YOUR interests, he has no right to sift through every last bit of it.
Ah, well, I'm fourteen, and while I live under my father's roof, I have to live by his rules. Doesn't make it any less stupid, though.
(07-24-2014, 05:40 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote: *headdesk* I fail to see how what's on an iPod could possibly connect with the dangers of the internet. .
I seem to have failed to mention that this is an iPod Touch that I'm talking about; it has Internet browsing capabilities as well as messaging capabilities, neither of which please him very much in general.
(07-24-2014, 05:40 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote: And, from what I've seen of you around, you're more than capable of looking after yourself online, so I personally see no reason why you shouldn't be allowed. Your dad's a real jerk.
Like I said before, my dad is the type who is fairly conservative and isn't very good with technology outside of database management; he still thinks that the Internet consists largely of weird pedophiles who are waiting to snare me in their intricately-woven trap or something of the like. He's not doing it to be mean, he just doesn't know better.

At any rate, I'm getting ready to complain again, so fasten your seatbelts.
7/25/14: I was born cursed
I am a Boy Scout. As incredibly silly and stupid as that sounds, the Boy Scouts of America are not as honourable as the organisation leads you on to believe. Of course, we do good deeds and community projects, we learn about leadership, we camp out, but honestly, you can't really group a bunch of same-aged boys together and expect them all to be completely mature and respectable all the time. I think most people will find that we are quite a bit different than you would assume. Before I joined, I assumed the Boy Scouts were a bunch of brown-nosed suckers who spent all their time outdoors, but that's just not true. Some people in the organisation are like that, yes, but more often than not, you're going to find exactly what you expect to find in a teen-aged boy, dressed up in a quaint little uniform.

As a Boy Scout, you have to acquire twenty-one merit badges before you reach the rank of Eagle. If you didn't know, being an Eagle Scout entails a good amount of honour among other members of Boy Scouts, and some weird link with other Eagle Scouts you've never met before (suddenly they will like you and help you without question; it's all very confusing, really). But outside of the organisation, being an Eagle Scout grants you basically automatic acceptance into any part-time job, extra consideration into virtually any career, and just a lot of respect for anyone who knows just what hell you've been through to get to the place you are.

Of the twenty-one merit badges, eleven are "Eagle-required," meaning that everyone has to get those eleven. The other ten can be whatever you want, but those eleven are the ones that every Boy Scout has to acquire before reaching Eagle.

One of these is Personal Fitness; it's one of the two I'm missing. This isn't surprising, really; I'm of a larger physique, which is the best possible way I can think of to say I am basically permanently fat. I'm not obese by any means, but I'm certainly overweight and it makes personal fitness quite hard for me. I have a lot of muscle for some reason I don't know; probably because my body has to do something while I'm sitting around idly, so it decides to build my muscles or something. But running is a nightmare for me. Five kilometers is basically my limit; I can run a mile in about ten minutes, which is less than commendable. I'm quite fast when it comes to running short distances, but if I were on the run for my life from a bunch of blood-thirsty dogs or something, chances are my coffin would never see my flesh.

Yet I've been forced to run a mile every other day for the past week or so, and some how... I've managed. It hurts quite a bit; I have very flat feet, so I have to pause every two minutes or so to let them rest a moment. They get these awful cramps, and I really can't run that long without them twisting up on me. I have a feeling that if I did not have flat feet, I would have much less difficulty running, but that's not the case and never will be, if I have any say in it. The only fix to that is to wear inserts in my shoes, and those are just horrible. My feet cramp up 100% of the time, which is worse than just having them cramp up when I run.

I've also been doing press-ups and the like and have found myself remarkably weak. My father can do a hundred pushups in probably three minutes: in five minutes, I can do maybe sixty, in the most optimal conditions. Sit-ups are not as bad for me, although they're probably not as bad for anyone; I can do roughly forty in a minute, which isn't too terrible, but after the one minute mark I'm basically ready to just sit in my chair all day and play Spore.

My main issue is that I'm really just not built for exercise; if I were a caveman, chances are I'd be the guy tending the fire while everyone else went out to hunt. I'm tall, but I'm also quite large, as I mentioned before; my feet are flat; and I have some other mental issues that I do not care to disclose that also effect my health in such a way that I never really have the energy to do anything especially exerting.

My father is in the military, and he does all the exercise I do each week in one morning. He can probably do chin-ups without pause until his body is too weak from lack of food to carry on any more; he makes first place in virtually every race he enters; he is the master of press-up posture, pretty much, and is sure to remind me every time I get on my stomach and try a few. He's a strong believer that nothing I do is healthy and that I'm going to get fat and die (all my hobbies are sitting hobbies, so he's probably right; I indulge in art, writing, programming, music and the like, which require next to no movement). I feel constantly pressured to do exercise, and it doesn't help that my self-image issues are already terrible; basically, it's bad enough without my father figure reminding me how fat I am.

For that matter, I have a lot of issues my father doesn't really know about. He tells me constantly that if I have any problems, I should tell him about them. He has probably forgotten about this, but I tried that once, and he got mad at me for having problems, so I've pretty much permanently resolved not to really share with him anything any more. Anyone who reads this post knows more about me than he does, probably.

I've noted that I complain a lot about my father, so it might be easy to assume that I dislike him; I do dislike my father, but he is not a bad person. I love him, I just... you know, don't care for him much.

I am going to stop now, so that I have something to write about later, because I've almost said everything there is to say about me. Don't forget that you can still ask questions about anything, and I will answer them in the next post!
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#5
(07-25-2014, 11:51 AM)Sardonic Nova Wrote: My father is in the military
Ah. And suddenly all is explained. If only because I have a very low opinion of militaries in general. What exactly does he do for them?
This often catches me out, too, but Xander the Crocoal is female.
Avi by DevArt user DragonA7X, taken from here. Free to use.
'...No matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful.'--SCP-1342
'One voice is small, but the difference between zero and one is as great as one and infinity.'--SCP-1281
[Image: 76561198157421562.png]
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#6
(07-25-2014, 11:51 AM)Sardonic Nova Wrote: but after the one minute mark I'm basically ready to just sit in my chair all day and play Spore.

Spore? ...other people play the game that aren't incapable of making something decent?! I need to reload it, I had a nice space empire going on in one of my saves.
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#7
I've also got a rather... testy relationship with physical exercise, and my psychologist has given me some interesting advice about that recently.

See, she used to treat this patient. There were two things this patient hated above all else: being told what to do, and physical exercise. So naturally, whenever she inevitably reached the part when yet another healthcare professional tells her to do more physical exercise, a door would slam shut. But later down the years, she found some sort of physiotherapy thing that solved the problem -- she found a way to do exercise that didn't bother the holy high hell out of her.

When it comes down to it, most established forms of exercise have some details which aren't essential but end up everywhere anyway and these things can be what turn people off. My psychologist, for one, says she can't stand gym music. You'd be damned to accidentally find a conventional place where you can do gym things without gym music, but it's pretty easy if you identify the problem and figure out a way around it.

So the point here is, maybe what you need isn't to adapt yourself better to the exercise you do now, but rather, that you need exercise that adapts itself better to you. ... And I'm not exactly a P.E. teacher, so I guess that's about as much as I can recommend.

(Also, as a nitpick, I should mention that ye olde caveman hunting didn't involve nearly as much physical strength as most people picture. It wasn't about wrestling mammoths and racing saberteeth, so much as it was about laying traps and following fast running prey at regular walking speed because we can keep that up for hours and they can't. Also, we can easily withstand injuries that most animals die from, eg broken bones.)

While I'm at it, I should mention that there are certain limits to "my roof my rules", specially being that you don't have much of a choice and, albeit less so, neither does him. For one thing, your privacy doesn't have anything to do with who owns the place.
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#8
(07-25-2014, 03:17 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote:
(07-25-2014, 11:51 AM)Sardonic Nova Wrote: My father is in the military
Ah. And suddenly all is explained. If only because I have a very low opinion of militaries in general. What exactly does he do for them?

Hey hey hey, now, Kath. You can't take one man, who, by the way, has probably been in too long and is stuck in the old way they used to run the military (it changed quite recently in the last 10 or 15 years I believe; don't quite know when, so I'm giving a wide berth) and think that all military is like that. I agree with some points and with some I don't.

Such as the flat-footed-ness. Nova shouldn't be running with flat feet at all, and I think the cramping when he is wearing the inserts, is because they are forcing the arch to go back up (Don't quote me on this, but it's logical from my standpoint).

Also, are "press-ups" regular push-ups and you're just calling them something else? Or are they actually something else? If you have a lot of muscle, then you are muscular, not fat. Given more details, I'd probably say you should train to tone those muscles up, if they aren't already. Doing that will make large muscles a little bit smaller, as the muscle fibers themselves are smaller, but they are tighter. A small, toned muscle is stronger than a large, un-toned muscle. Also, muscle isn't built while you are sitting and not using it; it will atrophy after a certain time of not having any use. I'm sure you know this, Nova.

A Mile every other day isn't too bad, but the no arch definitely presents a problem and a hazard. Your dad's PT regime sounds like he gets an extremely high score for his pt test. You never said, though may I ask which Branch he's in? It would be easier to. . . . picture things how they are. Though, his capabilities sound normal to me. ^^()

It also sounds like you and your father are at an impasse, with neither one (especially on his side) willing to learn and compromise. You may just be doing exercises that are not built for you, like what MF is kind of saying. You have physical strong suits; you just need to find them.

Again, you are not fat. Just so you know. And have you talked to your mom about these problems that you are unable to bring up with your dad? Females are usually more. . . willing to listen to people than males are. I've been wrong before, of course, but I believe it may be worth a shot if you haven't tried already.

One more thing. I don't know how many people here know, but I am, also, military. So, I know what you're talking about Nova, and if I had more information, I may be able to help more.

Hope I didn't ramble too much. ^^()
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#9
(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote:
(07-25-2014, 03:17 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote:
(07-25-2014, 11:51 AM)Sardonic Nova Wrote: My father is in the military
Ah. And suddenly all is explained. If only because I have a very low opinion of militaries in general. What exactly does he do for them?

Hey hey hey, now, Kath. You can't take one man, who, by the way, has probably been in too long and is stuck in the old way they used to run the military (it changed quite recently in the last 10 or 15 years I believe; don't quite know when, so I'm giving a wide berth) and think that all military is like that. I agree with some points and with some I don't.
Aha, you seem to have misunderstood me a little. I generally have a low opinion of militaries in general and have done for the past several years. So, naturally, hearing that someone who's a jerk is apparently a military man explains why he's a jerk, to me. That said, I am aware that plenty of military people are actually okay, hence asking what the guy does. I know my Grandpa was in the Royal Navy, but later had the bulk of work in being behind the front lines in a warzone helping civilians rebuild. That was in Bosnia.
This often catches me out, too, but Xander the Crocoal is female.
Avi by DevArt user DragonA7X, taken from here. Free to use.
'...No matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful.'--SCP-1342
'One voice is small, but the difference between zero and one is as great as one and infinity.'--SCP-1281
[Image: 76561198157421562.png]
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#10
(07-25-2014, 03:17 PM)KathiraNarae Wrote: Ah. And suddenly all is explained. If only because I have a very low opinion of militaries in general. What exactly does he do for them?
(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote: You never said, though may I ask which Branch he's in? It would be easier to. . . . picture things how they are.
My father is in the US Army, he is a CW3 and currently works as a teacher in the SSI. He's quite good at it, if I recall.

(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote: Hey hey hey, now, Kath. You can't take one man, who, by the way, has probably been in too long and is stuck in the old way they used to run the military
My father has only been in the military fourteen years. He is thirty-six.

(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote: I think the cramping when he is wearing the inserts, is because they are forcing the arch to go back up (Don't quote me on this, but it's logical from my standpoint).
This is correct. I still hate it, though.

(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote: Also, are "press-ups" regular push-ups and you're just calling them something else? Or are they actually something else?
They're push-ups.

(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote: Also, muscle isn't built while you are sitting and not using it; it will atrophy after a certain time of not having any use. I'm sure you know this, Nova.
I was joking, of course. I just can't think of any other reason I would have muscle.

(07-25-2014, 04:54 PM)Kaelyn Wrote: And have you talked to your mom about these problems that you are unable to bring up with your dad? Females are usually more. . . willing to listen to people than males are. I've been wrong before, of course, but I believe it may be worth a shot if you haven't tried already.
Yes, on occasion. My mum's issue is that she thinks she has all the answers all the time, and never just listens. I guess in theory that would be helpful, but everything she tells me is painfully cliché and obsolete, and usually ties back into how I'm a failure and need more friends, et cetera.
(07-25-2014, 03:48 PM)MrKyurem Wrote: Spore? ...other people play the game that aren't incapable of making something decent?! I need to reload it, I had a nice space empire going on in one of my saves.
You can make decent things? I thought I was the only one! I am pretty tired of seeing random crap with stupid names in my games all the time, I turned it onto Buddy-only. But yeah, I play Spore quite a bit! My more recent stuff is here, my older stuff (from when I was little and stupid), is here.

(07-25-2014, 03:54 PM)Metallica Fanboy Wrote: ...long post about physical things...
Well, I'd like to think I'm good at something physical, but I've not found anything so far that I am okay at. I don't know if there's anything that particularly bothers me, but I certainly haven't noticed anything that does. I'll keep that in mind though, thanks!

(07-25-2014, 03:54 PM)Metallica Fanboy Wrote: (Also, as a nitpick, I should mention that ye olde caveman hunting didn't involve nearly as much physical strength as most people picture. It wasn't about wrestling mammoths and racing saberteeth, so much as it was about laying traps and following fast running prey at regular walking speed because we can keep that up for hours and they can't. Also, we can easily withstand injuries that most animals die from, eg broken bones.)
The analogy was more along the lines of "I don't like getting up and doing things."


(07-25-2014, 03:54 PM)Metallica Fanboy Wrote: While I'm at it, I should mention that there are certain limits to "my roof my rules", specially being that you don't have much of a choice and, albeit less so, neither does him. For one thing, your privacy doesn't have anything to do with who owns the place.
I have mentioned this to my father, but he disagrees. Why should I have any privacy? As long as I live here, everything I do is at his discretion. Privacy means I could be getting away with things.
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#11
7/26/14: I am a madman, your honour, a desperate fool at the end of his pitiful rope

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
Yes, that was a movie quote, and no, it doesn't really describe me that well. I'm quite glad it doesn't.

I'm going to take the time to actually describe myself in this entry, since I failed to do so in the very first one, and in the little snippet above. There's really not much to me, but there's certainly enough to me to create a wall of text that will sate your weird interests in my personal life that each of you so clearly sport. I am a human being, after all, and if you can't write at least a reasonable bit of text about a person of my age, I don't know quite what to tell you.

It is with a heavy heart and utmost displeasure that I tell you I am an American citizen and probably always will be. I was born in North Carolina in 2000 (if you didn't know yet, I'm fourteen years old, so I'm basically a baby compared to the rest of you), and moved away shortly thereafter to Kansas. Then to Belgium, Germany, North Carolina, and finally South Carolina, where we are now (we're getting ready to move back to Germany). What happened in the first few years of my life are not that important; as an oversized pink fetus cat once said, "The circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." And this is true in this case, although not really in general life. The circumstances of one's birth are more relevant than we might like to believe, and if you'd like to argue with me, you can just talk to these kind folks.

Regardless of what got me here, I ended up being a relatively temperate fourteen-year-old genderfluid idiot who says an awful lot for someone who doesn't know an awful lot. I suppose I'm considered relatively intelligent; for those of you who are familiar with the monstrosity that is the United States education system, I'll be entering ninth grade this coming year, and Algebra II is going to be my math. Of course, that's not an especial achievement, and I'm not that great for accomplishing it. Most of you were probably wrapping up calculus by the time you entered high school, but my feat is still considered slightly above average for some reason.

However, even though I'm the sort of smart that people are supposed to respect, I'm really not the sort of smart that people actually respect. If I lost everything I owned, chances are I would keel over and die because I have literally no idea with myself, and I am pretty much the dictionary definition of dependent. Granted, I'm fourteen, and my parents aren't exactly helpful in the field of helping me get ready for life, but I'm four years away from being a legal adult and I should damn well feel like it.

I tend to have a great memory in the places where it doesn't really count. For example, there's very little I don't know about Pokémon, but there's also very little I do know about Geometry, a course that I just finished last year. It's all great and amazing that I can recite all the Pokémon in the Johto Regional Pokédex, but that's not really as important as being able to recite Fermat's Last Theorem, is it? I also tend to actively watch television as opposed to the American norm of completely turning into a vegetable anytime a device with a screen is put in front of them. I remember movie quotes remarkably well (and that's a "talent" that seems to run in the family), to the point where I can literally recite the entire Bee Movie start to finish with very few errs.

My family is a film family; we all love movies and watch them quite a bit more often than most families. We are fans of comedies especially; my personal favourites are Jim Carrey and Mike Myers, though most of my family have taken a shining to Will Ferrel, who I absolutely despise, and Jack Black, who I enjoy more for his personality than his cinematography.

I am also somewhat artistic, I'd like to think. I've composed quite a bit of art, although not all of it is decent. I am also an artist in most other forms of the word. I write quite a bit and am working on a story that is currently about twenty-thousand words (and just hit its first rising action, ugh). I also play the guitar decently (although not as decently as I'd like) and sing. I'm not sure how well I sing, really. I'm terrified of hearing my own voice and refuse to do it, though I'm told I'm good. That's not a great indicator, however; if I was really, ear-bleed-status terrible, people would say the same exact thing.

I'm a real softie at heart, even though most people are afraid I'm going to beat them up or something. I'm extremely liberal, as most of you have probably concluded, and couldn't hurt a fly (well, that's an exaggeration; I just killed a fly with my bare hands about ten seconds ago) if I was forced. My parents are not a fan of that; I'm too "feminine," apparently, and I need to "man up." Most things they say I take with a grain of salt but take nonetheless: this is one of the few things they say that I flush out entirely. When they begin talking to me about my character in this respect, I sort of tune them out entirely and say "yes" or "no" when it seems appropriate, and then go about my regular business.

I absolutely love computers. Computer logic is completely sound, which satisfies me for some reason I can't articulate. It makes me feel good to know that there is at least one thing in the world that will always work, and if it doesn't, it's entirely at my fault. Computers don't fail on their own; perhaps they fail on occasion, but it's always the fault of someone, not the computer. They're surefooted and absolute and things like that make me quite happy.

I have some self-image problems, I've been told; really, to me, it just seems like a verbal expression of how absolutely awful I really am, but some people like to aggressively disagree with me and insist that I'm "great" and "wonderful" and "hilarious" and "their very best friend," which are all a great lot of lies that I refuse to partake in. My self-image problems result in several other problems that I do not have the heart to mention on a Pokémon forum, but most people can tell pretty readily that this guy doesn't really care that much about himself. I seem to exude an aura of unhappiness, and people that stay close to me inevitably end up unhappy too. It's for that reason that I don't care much for relationships of any kind and tend to stray away from people quite a bit.

I'm very music-oriented. There are people in the world that live without music as a real part of their lives and I wonder how in holy hell they get on. I'm not the sort that is utterly obsessed with music and bands to the point where I claim that either one saved my life, but I do enjoy listening to and making music quite a bit. My tastes are mostly old, with my very favourite being Queen, but I've also taken a shining to fun., OneRepublic, Green Day, Paramore, Arctic Monkeys, Imagine Dragons, and a handful of other groups I don't feel like remembering.

I am complimented frequently on my impeccable grammar and spelling. I've found that it's fairly common not to type like a bloody idiot while on a forum or something of the like, but finding people that don't type like a bloody idiot are quite rare in supply and precious indeed. I have a real issue with people that don't speak their own language correctly; I have met lots of different people in my time around the world, and most of them have a more thorough understanding of the English language than most of those who are raised in it.

Speaking of the English language, I love reading. That sounds like a cliché and generally stupid thing to say, but it's true. I like a different sort of reading; I enjoy books by Piers Anthony, mostly. Even though his writing upsets me, since he's pretty much a horny ten-year-old trapped in the body of an old man, it's usually also quite thought-provoking and relatable (aside from there being way too much sex in it).

I have a passion for creating things; that's part of the reason I like Spore so much, why I like creating Fakémon so much, why I like writing, drawing, and related arts so much. I like making things and being creative, and it's probably the strongest part of my personality. If people know me for anything, it's either for my overall worthlessness or my creativity.

The final thing I should note is that this rant wound up far too long, so I'm going to wrap it up now. As usual, direct any questions you have at me and I will answer the as soon as I can.
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#12
(07-26-2014, 04:26 PM)Sardonic Nova Wrote: Granted, I'm fourteen, and my parents aren't exactly helpful in the field of helping me get ready for life, but I'm four years away from being a legal adult and I should damn well feel like it.

Four years is a lot of time. I'm turning 21 this year, and I still don't feel like I'm ready for life yet.
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#13
(07-26-2014, 10:50 PM)Lezoux Wrote:
(07-26-2014, 04:26 PM)Sardonic Nova Wrote: Granted, I'm fourteen, and my parents aren't exactly helpful in the field of helping me get ready for life, but I'm four years away from being a legal adult and I should damn well feel like it.

Four years is a lot of time. I'm turning 21 this year, and I still don't feel like I'm ready for life yet.
I guess we think differently. Four years is not a lot of time. I'm 19 and I don't feel I'm ready for life yet, for the simple reason that I've been too lazy to get off my butt and make myself ready. Which, unfortunately, applies extensively to Nova. His parents aren't helping him get ready, so he's forced to do it himself. Not the best of situations, but maybe it'll help Nova be better in the real world than I ever will be.
This often catches me out, too, but Xander the Crocoal is female.
Avi by DevArt user DragonA7X, taken from here. Free to use.
'...No matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful.'--SCP-1342
'One voice is small, but the difference between zero and one is as great as one and infinity.'--SCP-1281
[Image: 76561198157421562.png]
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#14
8/21/14: Virtual education makes Hell a walk in the park

I usually forget how amazing art is until I pick it back up; how delicious Domino's pizza is until I taste it again; how much I hate people until I have to face them again. School is not exempt from this frustrating pattern of life. After it has ended and I'm taking my holiday over the summer, I look back on the school year with a strange sort of fondness. It wasn't so bad, I think. I'm so dreadfully bored, I can't wait for school to start again.

These are the words of a true idiot, as I had forgotten that school is just as boring if not more so than the summer... the only difference is that it's mandatory.

Now, I've only started one class, but I can tell I'm going to have a real field day/year with my teachers. I may have mentioned that I'm homeschooled, but this is only half true. I am schooled from home, but I attend a virtual charter school; basically, I do all my school online, and I have teachers and everything. Technically, it's public, but I'm at home, so that's basically invalid to me.

My Algebra II teacher was good fun. She's probably sixty years old and thinks we are all complete and total idiots. In fact, she told us that she takes attendance with Google, and was sure to say the word "Google" very slowly, to be sure we understood it. Not only that, but she also took the liberty of explaining what Google was to us, and I just don't even know how to handle myself in situations like that. I doubt she even knows Google has a search function, the way she explained it.

School has gotten off on a more decent foot than usual. I managed to create a bunch of new stylesheets on my website while I was supposed to be paying attention, which isn't all bad. Some of my teachers are nice.

But by god, I do not want to do school again. I don't. And to think I have four damn years of this nightmare left. The worst part about my current set-up is that, while I do have teachers, we only meet daily. So for the most part, I'm left to my own devices, as my mother has forgotten most of what she learned in school. I am given a vague, non-descriptive lesson and have to figure everything out on my own, and it's really difficult. I'm considered intelligent, but I'm not that intelligent. Of course, everyone has questions; if we didn't, we would have no base knowledge at all. Everyone would be stupid, because they never questioned things and never deepened their understanding of anything. But I have nowhere to bring my questions to, and consequentially, cannot deepen my understanding. Will I pass? It is highly unlikely that I will not. Will I pass with flying colours? It is highly unlikely that I will.

I just don't like school, okay?
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#15
9/21/14: Let's rant about parents

It's been exactly a month since I've had anything to complain about, and I'm going to talk about why for a minute.

Basically, I've been happy. It's a funny thing, really, how it comes and goes for me. It mostly has to do with the lenience of my parents at a given time. Prior to the writing of this post, I had been doing school in my room to prevent distractions. My schedule was very loose; I did school, and then the day was mine. I could program, ride my bike, read a book, draw... basically, I could do whatever I wanted, within obvious restrictions. Of course I still had to pitch in occasionally, as is to be expected, but things were nicer than they had really ever been before. I felt like I was actually learning things, and enjoying myself. For the first time in several years, I was actually happy. It was strange.

Of course, I knew that my parents enjoyed telling me how worthless I am, and it seemed really strange that they weren't. I began to think perhaps I wasn't-- that perhaps, I had shed all of my misgivings and bitterness and actually became a good person. I thought for a moment that they had forgiven me and that I could be accepted, and that added to the bliss. Naturally, I'm not quite so lucky.

Now, no matter which way I may come off as here, I'm not a very mellow person. My former username, Sardonic Nova, was created because I found it to be the truest combination of words to myself that I could think of. The sardonic part was the half of my username that you rarely see here. I'm comfortable here, but in the real world I'm very cold. I don't have any friends, and I don't really want any. The nova end accounts for my being bright; I consider myself a relatively intelligent and perceptive person, though that opinion can sway from time to time. Bright, however, wasn't meant to entail happiness; that's why I was a nova, not a star or something. I was bright but I was not warm. I was only a brief flash of colour in the ever-reaching darkness of freezing space.

Recently, I was reminded of who I really am. My parents are not, as you may have gathered, the most supportive people. I was reminded that I have no friends, that I have no passion, that I'm bossy, that I'm closed-minded, that I have no talent, and that I'm wasting my life. And quite frankly, all it took was a little nudge to remind me how foolish my previous opinion had been. My parents succeeded in that respect; I believe them, again, now.

If you've been following this blog at all, you may have found that I try to avoid posts that are created solely for the sake of self-pity, and that remains true here. Don't worry, I'm not going to complain about how awful I am the whole time. Then you might start doing that, too, and I don't need that.

Yesterday, we left the house to attend an Italian festival of sorts. Ideally, it was going to be a small little fair with Italian foods and cutlures throughout; just a cute little gettogether. Of course, no-one knew that the Italian festival advertisement was an accident, and that it was shortly replaced with the real festival that was to occur: the gay pride festival.

Oh, what a good lot of fun that was.

In case any of you didn't know, I'm panromantic. If you don't know what that means, I'll explain it to you: romantically, I don't really have a preference. I think people are people, and I hate them all equally. Occasionally I hate certain people less, and that's what accounts for my romantic orientation. (For those of you who care, I'm also asexual, and non-binary.)

Well, as is my luck, my parents are strict religious conservatives. Nothing queer is okay. I can't even count how many timse my mother has told me she hates rainbows, and I'm fairly certain a good deal of them were at that festival. I tried to enjoy myself regardless. It was a pretty fun time; there were lots of queers, and I even found a few business cards for a Columbia Trans society (it's called Tabby Cats, how cute is that). I saw lots of gays with kids, which was adorable. There were also lots of bratwurst vendors, and I'm not entirely sure whether that was coincidental or ironic.

My parents took the oppurtunity to remind me how awful gay people are, and how much they hate anyone that's queer.

Uh, mum. Dad. That's me.

Of course they made the entire thing miserable. There were a lot of shots at gays, of course, and they wouldn't stop chattering about how awful they all were and how much they hated them all. They also kept saying how unbiblical it was, and how they'll all go to hell. They hate all of them, and I feel relatively certain that if I told them that it applied to me, they'd hate me too.

I suppose the focus of this post was mainly to alleviate some of the stress I've had bottled up. It may have ended up becoming a huge pity-party, but maybe that's okay. I feel kind of better now that I've complained, as is typical for me. Uh, I guess that's the end of this post. Thanks for reading it, or something.
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#16
Well, that sounds kinda awful, Dazel. The way your parents were acting, I mean. I guess it's too bad a higher-ranking military person wasn't there to remind your dad that he's supposed to be professional at all times whether he is on-duty or off.... >.>"

Anyway, I think you have lots of talents. You have a natural good memory, and you are artistic. You can do lots of stuff with that. Plus, your interest in computers. That field is growing jobs (I've heard) quite quickly, and you may be able to major in something computer related when you are in college/university and get in on that. You certainly aren't useless (here or in real life). Also, how can you be wasting your life when you don't even know what you are supposed to be doing? You're still trying to find that. (Right?)

And I'm glad that you feel better after posting this. ^^
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#17
I, for one, think you're not worthless. And, by your description, you're not exactly queer, really, just not interested. If they know you're asexual, but don't like that, remind them that it's probably the holiest and purest way of being, since you're extremely unlikely to 'defile' yourself.

Mind if you try a little experiment for me? Next time they rag on about how homosexuality is against God or whatever, remind them that the Bible also says that a woman menstruating is 'unclean' and that everything she touches during that period is also unclean and should not be touched by anyone else. I believe the Bible also says that, for best results, a woman on her period should cast herself into the desert until several days after it's over before coming back. I can rifle through my own KJV and find the exact passage, if you'd like.

It's these sorts of people who really get on my nerves, who pick and choose at their religion and clearly don't actually care about their God(s) or whatever, merely use it as a shield to 'justify' their own bigoted and irrational hatred. And, as far as Christianity/Judaism is concerned, it's exactly this sort of thing that is taking God's name in vain, to my knowledge (interpretations notwithstanding). I think you'd like this comic, as well.
This often catches me out, too, but Xander the Crocoal is female.
Avi by DevArt user DragonA7X, taken from here. Free to use.
'...No matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful.'--SCP-1342
'One voice is small, but the difference between zero and one is as great as one and infinity.'--SCP-1281
[Image: 76561198157421562.png]
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#18
25/6/15: Stop; Annie Time
Right. So. It's been awhile, hasn't it? Well, hello, Pokémon Turquoise. For those of you who forgot, I'm Skylar, I'm an RPG and Community Mod, and I like to complain.

I have something new to complain about, though. For most of this blog, I've been on about parents, but I figured it's high time I tell you all about the romantic portion of my life! Because really, who isn't super interested in Dazel romance. It's riveting. There isn't a person alive that doesn't want to hear about my flushed endeavours, right? Good. Buckle up.

To maintain a certain level of privacy, I'm going to change some names! The only person who knows real names is MrKyurem, I think, so he'd better not blab. If I'm lucky, he doesn't remember. (Maybe Taav will catch my naming scheme here.)

Annie entered my life almost a year ago now, last August. She was introduced to me by my ex-girlfriend Christa that I'm never telling you about, because Annie was sad so Christa sent her a really… unappealing picture she got of me to cheer her up. I was pissed, but it worked. I asked that she introduce her to me so I could formally apologise for her having to see… whatever that was. So she gave me her snapchat, which was kind of weird, but I figured it worked. And damn. One picture was all it took.

That sounds pretty cheesy, but listen. She's super pretty, but aside from that, she's playing the violin with a bird on her shoulder. That's like four good things or something. For the record, her bird told me she loves me. How great is that.

I thought it would be kind of a passing fancy with her, but I'm writing about it now, so apparently not.

We got romantically involved right away. I'd rather not divulge any specifics. It was pretty embarrassing. There was one person who she talked to as much as me, or maybe more, and that was Connie. Man, I was so jealous of him. I thought he was stupid and hard-headed and didn't deserve her attention.

On October first of 2014, two days before Annie's fourteenth birthday, Connie was accidentally shot in the head. That really, really sucked for her. She basically fell onto me, as I was her only uninvolved friend. I think she thought that if she could feel loved then maybe that would make some of the pain go away, so on December twenty-ninth of that same year, just three months later, we made it official.

Uh, that lasted three days. Apparently her mom really didn't approve, but she did it anyway. I had no way of knowing that, of course, and once I found out it became really obvious how guilty she'd been feeling about it. So I cut it off and told her to forget about me and about everything romantic, and just for a little while to focus on herself and on feeling better.

I think that was the only advice of mine she ever took.

We still liked each other but we were really careful not to do anything even remotely amorous. It was pretty weird. Gradually things got more and more natural and I started to realise that though our little thing hadn't been a bad thing, I'd hardly known her at that point. I know her almost as well as I know myself at this point, which I think is good. But that's not what I'm here to complain about.

As most of you probably know, I'm currently in the process of moving. To another continent. Annie is going to public school next year, and so am I. We'll be six hours apart.

So okay, who up in the sky did I piss off. Why do you hate us.

I've told her about my fear, which is that she's going to find other friends and gradually replace me, or that even worse she'll find someone else that she likes. Like, a real person nearby that can take her on dates and that she can see and touch. It's going to happen, I know it. She tells me that, "I can't replace my Berty-senpai, we aren't supposed to be apart so I won't let us be," and I guess that's fair enough from her point of view. But it seems inevitable to me that something is going to give. It's way too much for me to ask for her to wait five years until I get back, and to stay uninvolved with anyone until I can see her again. I don't know if she could do that if she wanted to, and I don't think she does.

It just makes me feel kind of sick to think about. I finally had something here that I've been wanting for awhile: an actual friend that understands me on every level, and doesn't ever argue with me; and someone that I love and loves me back just as much. And now she's going to be taken away from me, and even worse she'll probably end up with someone else.

Kinda blows.
? // ?[url=http://weeb.space][/url]
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#19
Well... that is unfortunate. I suggest you try to make the long-distance work. It'd be stupid to throw away something great just because it might break in the future.

In the event it does, though, let me tell you something. I know what it's like to have a good friend become a romantic partner, and I know what it's like to love them and be loved by them and have everything be wonderful. But more importantly, I know what it's like to lose that. It hurts more than anything, but believe me it will pass with time. The time after my relationship ended was undoubtedly the worst time of my life. But where am I now? I'm having a great time on exchange in Japan, that's where I am. You're only 15, Dazel. You're super young and you have things ahead of you that you can't even begin to imagine yet. It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to be angry. What's not okay is to wallow in the past, because the future is where everything is.

I'm sorry if nothing I've said here helps. I'm not accustomed to giving advice, let alone relationship advice. Nonetheless I hope that something I've said has made you feel at least a little bit better.
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