The second official college exposure game of Betrayal at House on the Hill went surprisingly well. I think I played with the right assortment of D&D veterans and Bang enthusiasts. We were so into the gameplay that all six of us were standing up around the table, surveying the situation. But it was my magnifiscent power-play in the end using my Speed stats to attack the Zombie Lord with the Revolver and win the game for the good guys! Too bad we lost two allies already to the Zombies... If that made no sense to you, I apologize.
Also, on top of the sudden enthusiasm toward my 'tweaked' version of the game, I took out my package of Chrononauts and explained the premise to my fellow gamers. They were quite excited, but vociferously tired, so we turned in for the night. However, my gaming group may at last be making the transition from one-game group to a versatile, fun venue for new, old, and interesting games. Huzzah!
Over and Out,
Adam
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Loneliness
What is the definition of human attraction? Why do we gravitate and swell toward each other, just so we can know that another person holds us in their hearts, if only for a brief glimpse of tomorrow?
As I take another gulp of cereal in Buckley Dining Hall at 7:30 in the morning, I notice things. I notice people consciously deny the company of others, but still hope, like a revenant traveler returning home, that someone will notice them and sit down beside them. I notice this, because I notice it within myself.
We are such a lonely race. The way we sway, meandering along a broken path as we walk, careful not to bump into each other. But still we bump. We look for excuses to just touch each other; to simply graze a sweater’s shoulder for the acumen sensation human contact. Has anyone wordlessly grasped your shoulder, especially someone of the opposite sex, and then quickly retreated their hand to their hooded pockets? That is only a shadow of what I am talking about.
Maybe we’ve analyzed it too much. Maybe we just want to be touched.
I’ve been compulsively searching, sifting through the hordes of people on the Facebook to discover, or rediscover rather, all of the people I knew in Middle School, or maybe even earlier than that. However, these new entities are no longer the people I knew; no longer the ones I traded words and laughs and songs with. The only resemblance they bear, like snide epitaph on the tomb of their past, is the echo of childish looks etched into their faces. Their smiles, their glares, their faces, and stares; all of it…is the same. These are the people of my past, and I of theirs, simply passing through time as we age…but we are still connected, no matter how thin the string wears or how far it stretches. It is still there. And my memories have never been clearer.
People say to stop and smell the roses. Rather, why not stop and just look at each other. Then we’ll see what it’s all about. Why we must be together. We are connected by our race, by our spirits, by our very existence. Our coexistence with each other.
So maybe, in our own instinct, we have seen the future. We must stick together. In order to survive, we cannot stand alone…as I have done.
I am rediscovering a family; a very large family. And just like any family, sometimes we lose track of each other, of our spitlines, of our bloodlines, and of our friends. The point is that we never forget the glimpses. We never forget the glares. We are still here.
We are all. Still. Here.
Well, I’m feeling sentimental and tired. I think I need a girlfriend. Goodnight. Thank you for reading.
Over and Out,
Adam
As I take another gulp of cereal in Buckley Dining Hall at 7:30 in the morning, I notice things. I notice people consciously deny the company of others, but still hope, like a revenant traveler returning home, that someone will notice them and sit down beside them. I notice this, because I notice it within myself.
We are such a lonely race. The way we sway, meandering along a broken path as we walk, careful not to bump into each other. But still we bump. We look for excuses to just touch each other; to simply graze a sweater’s shoulder for the acumen sensation human contact. Has anyone wordlessly grasped your shoulder, especially someone of the opposite sex, and then quickly retreated their hand to their hooded pockets? That is only a shadow of what I am talking about.
Maybe we’ve analyzed it too much. Maybe we just want to be touched.
I’ve been compulsively searching, sifting through the hordes of people on the Facebook to discover, or rediscover rather, all of the people I knew in Middle School, or maybe even earlier than that. However, these new entities are no longer the people I knew; no longer the ones I traded words and laughs and songs with. The only resemblance they bear, like snide epitaph on the tomb of their past, is the echo of childish looks etched into their faces. Their smiles, their glares, their faces, and stares; all of it…is the same. These are the people of my past, and I of theirs, simply passing through time as we age…but we are still connected, no matter how thin the string wears or how far it stretches. It is still there. And my memories have never been clearer.
People say to stop and smell the roses. Rather, why not stop and just look at each other. Then we’ll see what it’s all about. Why we must be together. We are connected by our race, by our spirits, by our very existence. Our coexistence with each other.
So maybe, in our own instinct, we have seen the future. We must stick together. In order to survive, we cannot stand alone…as I have done.
I am rediscovering a family; a very large family. And just like any family, sometimes we lose track of each other, of our spitlines, of our bloodlines, and of our friends. The point is that we never forget the glimpses. We never forget the glares. We are still here.
We are all. Still. Here.
Well, I’m feeling sentimental and tired. I think I need a girlfriend. Goodnight. Thank you for reading.
Over and Out,
Adam
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
World Solution #1
In our world today, there are many conflicts. Also in our world today, there are many solutions to these problems. It is too bad NONE of them are being implemented. So I will start a revolution...one solution at a time.
Here at college, people have many arguments. Some arguments are good, they have a purpose; a goal, if you will. Other arguments are, well, asinine. Pointless. And these are the ones that can often flare up into altercations so massive one forgets what they were arguing about in the first place. So, before reaching that point, just remember a very simple solution to an argument:
A chipper game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Simple. Best 2 out of 3. No exceptions. No immature "bulldozer" or "pacman" crap. Just Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot. Then, the argument is done, resolved; you can move on with your life.
Anywho, I have three interviews tomorrow and a full day of band. Goodnight. Thanks for reading.
Over and Out,
Adam
Here at college, people have many arguments. Some arguments are good, they have a purpose; a goal, if you will. Other arguments are, well, asinine. Pointless. And these are the ones that can often flare up into altercations so massive one forgets what they were arguing about in the first place. So, before reaching that point, just remember a very simple solution to an argument:
A chipper game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Simple. Best 2 out of 3. No exceptions. No immature "bulldozer" or "pacman" crap. Just Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot. Then, the argument is done, resolved; you can move on with your life.
Anywho, I have three interviews tomorrow and a full day of band. Goodnight. Thanks for reading.
Over and Out,
Adam
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