No Surprises - Page 3
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dragonsuper
Liechtenstein222 Posts
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nttea
Sweden4353 Posts
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ShadeR
Australia7535 Posts
On May 10 2012 18:21 nttea wrote: hey i know it's saddening but you are being ridiculous, games don't die unless you let them. Deliberately obtuse? This is about proBW. | ||
nttea
Sweden4353 Posts
considering i had to google "obtuse", no... not deliberately. | ||
endy
Switzerland8970 Posts
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Deleuze
United Kingdom2102 Posts
On May 10 2012 15:55 Iplaythings wrote: I met this guy what is soon 4 years ago. What a great friend, he is really changing, I hope I can appreciate his changes. I feel sad for those who met this very precious friend many years before me. I dont regret learning to know him late as I probally would be too young to appreciate him. But what a great friend he was If feel really happy for those that knew him before me, I barely knew him for 5 mins or knew him for longer but not really knowing him... | ||
VonDarkmore
Australia192 Posts
Ah good times, and good memories dear friend, many long nights, and early mornings, sometimes just from chatting rather then gaming, and vice versa. So much time consumed but no regrets. Reading this for some reason reminded me of Boxer's biography those of you that have read it will know which part, it has been so long.. I might read it again. | ||
Angra
United States2652 Posts
On May 10 2012 15:53 Blazinghand wrote: Don't forget the part where his little brother is also eating his corpse to make himself larger. It's actually quite morbid ;_; As a huge crowd stands around cheering on the devouring of the body rest in peace my beloved friend, ill never forget you and the good times we've shared over the past 4 1/2 years of knowing you | ||
c3rberUs
Japan11285 Posts
I remember all those afternoons when I rushed back home and the casters talked about Jaedong, the top zerg while he dueled against Bisu who before had beaten a certain Jae Yoon. It was 2008. It was a good time and I still believe he's out there, waiting to comeback. | ||
TheKefka
Croatia11752 Posts
I'm not too fond of the bw/sc2 frankenstain kespa has created,but there is still a OSL to be played and personally I'm looking forward to it rather than sobering in this bitter,long drawn out good bye that,yea,is forced by the new PL format but its still going to be BW and for what its worth I know the players will try to do their best to give it the farewell it deserves. | ||
BLinD-RawR
ALLEYCAT BLUES49486 Posts
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blubbdavid
Switzerland2412 Posts
I met him early, but for a long time I didn't know what a truly interesting person he was. | ||
vx70GTOJudgexv
United States3161 Posts
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Zergneedsfood
United States10671 Posts
Those days.... | ||
Jealous
10079 Posts
I want to avenge you, but I cannot be as strong as the mere 300 before the masses of | ||
StarStruck
25339 Posts
the truth is I never left you All through my wild days My mad existence I kept my promise Don't keep your distance And as for fortune and as for fame I never invited them in Though it seemed to the world They were all I desired They are illusions They're not the solutions They promise to be The answer was here all the time I love you and hope you love me. | ||
Kittan
Poland3999 Posts
+ Show Spoiler + I was in third year of my degree. You came by the labs, said you were visiting one of my lecturers. We dropped by that bar nearby, famous in undergrad circles for its atmosphere. Though I met you for the first time on my own, I have heard about you from somewhere and it felt like I have known you since forever. You were well established by then, even though some were badmouthing you and greed have has fueled some to come to your doorstep with a case in court. Still, you held your head high and proud, aware that what you have accomplished was unmatched in the the whole world and no enterprise could come close. We drank through the night as if the world ceased to exist outside that bar. You said that your mother was pregnant again. You said that early USG pictures were good. You were hopeful and happy. Smiling and jesting we drank and talked. Well, it was more like I listened to the chatter between you and the barkeep, who seemed to know everything about everyone everywhere (I guess it's a prerequisite for the job). But nevertheless I felt accomplished... I felt safe... I felt like I found a new home. We met more after that fateful first. I saw you at uni, you dropped by whenever you could both in my rented flat and when I flew home. You were a perfect partner in crime, even though meeting you was possible only in the dark hours of the night for the most part. But I did not care. I was stubbornly showing up to hear about your ventures. When it was impossible, I'd ask around the bar since the regulars were often as knowledgeable about you as the barkeep. I'd ask you about your little brother sometime, but I stopped after a while. When the barkeep broke the news that you had cancer I felt like my world shatered into million bits. I could not believe - you seemed strong, even stronger then ever before. Then I realised that you were already sick when I met you and I was just too naive to notice. I watched you struggle and purge the disease with horror and hope for recovery. It seemed you have stabilised after the drastic measures taken, so I was really glad. Your condition was precarious, but the vitals were there and lately you have shown signs of going back to the old form you had. Then the barkeep told me the rumours that your litle brother who was slowly growing up was going after you. And then, over a drink, you said that your parents are quarelling over the two of you. You were calm but I was not. I rooted hard against mom and little bro, and it seemed that the court ended in her favour. But you had preserved you venture and that meant we could still keep meeting. That was all I cared about. Now the mom is back. She sends her agents to the bar every now and again. She remarried lately and bought a gun. You were trying to do things the old way, but your father has been a little sick nowadays and he said he needs to pass the family business to the new blood. You knew it was not going to be you. The barkeep knew. I was hoping for a solution that would allow you to function even if not on the same terms as before. But it was not to be. At gunpoint father was forced to sign the document giving all power to you little brother. Mom has won and you are left to go to the old people's home despite your age, where you will 'exist' until you die. When you do, the good old world will go with you. Still, I will visit you so that we can talk about the 'ol days over a couple of drinks. And I will not be the only one - you have met many people similar to me, both before and after that fateful night two years ago. Like many, I love you. Like many, I am angry at myself for not looking for you earlier when I had the time. Like many, I feel angry that I was powerless to prevent the changes. Like many, I will follow you wherever you go because we know that there is no other like you. </3) BW forever </3 And though the bar has been changing its look to a modern style that I am not that fond of, I love the fact that its walls are decorated with your accomplishments right from the start till the end. It caught my eye that night and it keeps me coming back. Even though its filled mostly by half drunk first year undergrads who pass out on the floor and throw up everywhere except the toilet. <3 TL <3 | ||
Chef
10810 Posts
It's about 70/30 | ||
OpticalShot
Canada6330 Posts
This post turned out wayyy too dramatic, apologies if anyone finds it depressing. T_T;; +edit: this is about a friend. CHEF WHAT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A GIRL BLOG? I first met him more than a decade ago, when he had this crazy idea of becoming famous and being accepted as mainstream culture. I laughed; what a ridiculous fellow! He was quite the exact definition of a friend that every parent would pull their kids away from! Nevertheless, he was clearly talented and passionate. Beyond the negative rumours about addiction and others, I saw strategic brilliance and mechanical perfection that I didn't find in any other friend. Despite the opposition from my parents, we soon became inseparable buddies. I would spend many days and evenings with him, sharing tales of epic victories and heartbreaking losses. Much to my surprise and delight, he achieved what he set out to become - a part of mainstream culture. Thousands joined us in celebrating the culmination of talent, creativity, and passion. He even got corporate sponsors, and a cable channel dedicated to broadcasting his ever-evolving spectrum of entertainment. He was always generous - in the hundreds and maybe thousands of hours spent together, he wouldn't take a penny from me. Perhaps it was all too good to be true. Maybe I put too much trust in him, unconditionally. I wasn't the only one, thousands of others trusted him the same way. Some could argue that he was too careless in his own glorious life, that he wasn't ready to protect himself against the malicious forces in the world. Did a wise man say that all good things must come to an end? Isn't that really obvious, as all mortals are destined to meet an end, one way or another? Well then, how did we get caught in the illusion that our friend would defy the flow of time and live in eternal glory? One day, he was stabbed viciously by one of the very prodigies he raised himself. We don't know who to blame, really - the prodigy helped raise the popularity of the scene, and revolutionized many aspects that would further help our friend reach new heights. There was widespread disbelief, as we learned that the prodigy was one of the leaders in the shadow movement that critically wounded our friend. With the help of good friends, he was immediately hospitalized and given the best treatment possible - but the poisons didn't leave his body. The bruises didn't fade, and the wounds didn't fully heal. He was visibly battered, his flair was reduced, and his confidence never recovered. Knowing of the evil forces that wanted his head, sponsors saw too much risk and left him, and hundreds of friends did the same. I didn't, because I believed he would overcome all obstacles, just like he did in the past. It turns out that he had a young brother. I first welcomed the news, expecting him to be the rightful heir of the scene that his older brother cultivated. I think I speak for the entire community when I say that he was expected to follow the greatness of his older brother, and take it to another level. Turns out I was wrong. His younger brother, eager to take the throne before proving himself worthy, took a gavel and delivered a smashing blow to the head of my dear friend. I thought that would be the end. My friend proved me wrong. He was old, and nowhere as strong and vibrant as he was in his youth, but he held on like a champion. He was a fallen champion perhaps, an ageing war hero slowly dying from his battle wounds. He hung on for another year before he was deemed too fragile to continue on his own. So we decided to put him on life support with the help of his younger brother. We would prolong his crumbling life, just for a little bit, so that at least his younger brother can have a better start when he fully inherits the throne. Many opposed this idea, preferring to see our friend meet a heroic end rather than a pathetic decline into oblivion. Perhaps he is already dead, in practical terms. His younger brother will lead the very same scene with different styles and features. He may as well be dead, really - it pains me to see faint glimpses of his prime years in the last moments of his life. But I will watch him. I will watch him until his eyes shut for the last time. I will follow him to the last stroke of his movement. I will catch his breath until his last breath. And when he does finally breathe his last - I will be here, along with thousands of his loyal friends, in celebrating his achievements and immortalizing his legacy. We will celebrate, because he achieved things that people thought was utterly impossible. It's just a game, they said. In fact, they say the same now. It's just a game. Yes, it's just a game - that touched the lives of many. It's just a game that made people laugh, cry, and jump out of their seats with genuine emotions. I hold his fragile hands. "It's almost over. Thanks for everything, buddy." - "If I ever made you smile, then you owe me nothing. Nobody owes me anything. I am happy, and I'm glad that I met you, and all the others around the world." "I've got to go... and I'm not sure if I'll see you again." He doesn't reply. He doesn't wave goodbye either. His hands quietly slip away from mine, and he rests them peacefully on top of his chest. A deep breath, and a faint smile. I naturally jerk at the monitor to check his pulse, and it seems fine. Whew... maybe he just needed some rest. Seeing that it's probably time for me to go, I grab my coat and head for the door. His younger brother, at his bedside, seems to understand something that I don't. He gets up, shakes my hand, thanks me for being here, and goes back to the stool beside the bed. Perhaps I've misjudged, or perhaps he's changed... but maybe he's not such a bad guy, after all. I take one last look before closing the door behind me. Brothers: an aged hero barely living the last minutes of his celebrated life, and a young champion, blessed and doomed to follow the great footsteps of his elder. For some reason, I find it... assuring. | ||
BLinD-RawR
ALLEYCAT BLUES49486 Posts
On May 10 2012 23:21 Chef wrote: What if I told you all this is actually a girl blog and not about Brood War at all? + Show Spoiler + It's about 70/30 + Show Spoiler + what if I told you, broodwar is a girl. | ||
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