On a calculated whim, I bought Crimson Skies yesterday at Best Buy. I'd played a little of it with Gnfnrf, but I can state, unqualifiedly, that it is my favorite flight simulation game involving pirates in the south seas, EVER!
It's like Tailspin, without the annoying Jungle Book characters for no reason, and there are planes with missiles and electric shock devices - the missions mostly involve "these people are a government-sponsored militia, we should destroy them", or "these pirates suck, we should destroy them." Oh, yeah!
In other news, Pirates of the Caribbean comes out on DVD December 2.
I should not get angry when other people fail to hold themselves to my own standards, since I rarely hold myself to my own.
I should not get angry when other people blithely ignore how easy their life is, because it was my habit, once.
I should get angry when my friends treat each other like untrustworthy strangers, because they're being selfish.
I should not get angry when my friends insist that they miss me, but never call, since I rarely call other people, since I figure "why bother? They don't care".
I should not get angry when my friends trample all over my generosity and goodwill like wild animals, because my personality encourages it.
When I'm in a bad mood, I should stop keeping it to myself, since everybody else I know certainly doesn't.
A certain person (who will remain nameless) has lent me a great deal of insight on a number of things - one of which I want to clear up right now.
I'm not angry. I'm frustrated with the hand that life has dealt me, but I'm not angry. I have a tendency to write things down when I'm in an emotional way - and something I read earlier today (coupled with some events this weekend) tripped the self-loathing circuit in my brain. The "why the fuck can't people own up to their own problems?" relay also seems to be a bit twitchy lately.
This is how I get sometimes - I spend a lot of my waking mind thinking about anything and everything. I have quite a few things careening around like drunken circus animals in my brain at any given time - give me a reason to look at it long enough, and I'll latch on to it.
I know I'm not the only person who gets like this - who over-analyzes and plans out a combinatorial explosion of scenario after scenario, and then tries to step back and see the big picture. I've seen the big picture a few times - and it's very, very sad. It's hard to go back to just living, when you've seen as much as that. Sometimes I wish I never had.
Sometimes it's happier - or at least more balanced than "very sad." Sadness comes naturally with certain speciifc triggers - I have maybe a half-dozen of them.