Ironic.

So in an attempt to kill some boredom brought upon by this most irritatingly inauspicious of days (ie: Sunday), I have engaged in a couple hours of extremely retro gaming. Yes, I’ve taken to playing KoF again as an occasional distraction. Or to be entirely precise, the most recent version I’ve downloaded that works on my emulator.

Four things to note:

1. I still suck at it.
2. SNK bosses are still absurdly cheap and overpowered.
3. Somehow I’ve lost the ability to execute any move involving a half-circle.
4. Terry Bogard is still GOD.

Strangely enough, I’m in an odd little funk after I stopped playing, which I may attribute to:

1. Not having actually written anything for my thesis yet

(although people who have seen my notes for it claim that I’ve practically written the paper anyway)

2. Activated nostalgia associated with KoF

(the last time I was seriously playing 2D fighting games was back in poly and we all know the emotional shit that happened there; although I must say that it was a pretty damn good opiate for the time, or maybe it was Ang, Satan and Auntie. Hmmm.)

Anyway, stirred the bug again. Here goes.

Ironic.

Have you seen the dandelion gentle,
Buffeted gently by the wind?
Seen the weeds as they cover the earth,
Sprung forth after rain?

Have you talked the talk and drank the drink,
To which each man resigns?
Have you tasted the fruit of circumstance,
And on confusion nightly dine?

Have you veiled what little truth you have,
For a little more comfort and change?
Have you broken what little promises made,
And got thirty pieces in exchange?

Did you fight in the wars of our fathers,
Have you taken more than just a life?
Have you seen the sunrise from the edge of time,
And decided to close your eyes?

Have you seen the birds of the air,
Sad songs make to traverse the skies?
Have you held always in your hand,
And with gentle speech spoken naught but lies?

Are you tired of the life you’re not leading,
Does that weariness give you strength?
Have you drank the draught of tomorrow-may-bring,
And countenanced not the aftermath?

Are you holding on for someone else,
Have you taken naught for fear of fear?
Have you sailed upon the vagaries of chance,
Will you find some solace there?