Has it ever occurred to you that the word antonym, is in itself, and antonym? The same goes for the word word.

...:|

For the sake of writing something more substantial, here's a poem on how much I hate fish:

Death to Fish

Oh fish, how do you disgust me so?
Do I want to eat you? The answer's no!

I hate your texture, I hate your flavour,
You're something I have no wish to savour.

That's why I eat you with maximum haste,
I wish to cut short your hideous taste.

Because it's a heinous, repugnant dish,
I vehemently proclaim: DEATH TO FISH!

Well, here I am again. I hope you all remember me. If not, I'd appreciate it if you smiled and nodded; I won't notice you're lying, and it'll do wonders for my self-esteem.

As you probably know, providing this isn't the first time you've visited my blog (if it is your first time, welcome by the way), things have been a little bit...well...bad for me, but thankfully - and finally - it's all starting to settle down.

So, you'll be pleased to know I'll be around a lot more soon. If you're not so pleased, remember to smile and nod anyway.

Oh, and while I've been away, I've written a story I've grown very proud of, and I'm sure you'll love it.

See you soon!

Things are getting worse for me I'm afraid, and I'm still unavailable. I wrote this poem though, and although it's terrible, I'll post it anyway.

Questionable Toast 

Questionable Toast, Questionable Toast,
You're the toast I question the most.
You're a dubious piece of bread,
If I eat you, will I end up dead?

Tell me toast, what's your starsign,
Could it be the same as mine?
What are your interests, what are your hobbies,
Do you like to sit in hotel lobbies?

And your favourite colour, is it brown?
Do you someday hope to be a clown?
Do you  enjoy  playing sport?
Is it to you of great import?

You may be rotting, you may have mould,
But you truly shine, like shimmering gold.
You're setting are rather questionable trend,
But you'll forever be my friend.

Crying For Spinach

You reach for the carrot, it slips through your fingers - the light-bulb screams obscenities at your incompetence.
In the distance, you hear a baby crying - he is crying for spinach.
But that mysterious carrot knows the truth -spinach is no more.

I'm afraid to say I'm still unable to spend any time here, so if I'm a member of any of your unions, I apologize. Just so everyone knows, I am fine, things are just a little tough right now. I'll get through it, don't you worry. I couldn't resist posting this poem though. Don't even try to search for any hidden messages; it's too deep for you feeble earth-dwellers to understand. :P

I'm sorry to say that I'm not going to be on Gamespot for a little while. I've got too much on at the moment, and have no time to commit to Gamespot. I have other, serious commitments at the moment. Unfortunately, this means so much more than study and whatnot, but I'd rather not go into the details of why I am in this situation.

You'll see more of me in a little while, but for the foreseeable future I'm not going to be around.

Stay Happy - true bliss lies within.

This is a story of loss and sentiment.

I never cared much for my original DS. It was too chunky for me, and while we can't all be chiseled studs, my first DS just didn't make the cut. Our relationship wasn't to be. And so, I sold it. However, I felt confident that my ex-handheld would find new love, in the hands of someone who truly cared for it. Then began a new chapter in my lofe-life, a chapter that was in every way lighter and brighter. When I bought my DS lite, it was love at first sight (no rhyme intended). We had many beautiful times together, and formed an unbreakable bond that I was sure nothing could break. But then once day, tragedy struck. While I was playing New Super Mario Bros. something on my love's top-screen caught my attention. It was a line that went from the top of the screen all the way to the bottom. Granted, it wasn't in the center of the screen, and if you didn't focus on it, the line causes no trouble. But I did focus. I tried and I tried, but always the line was a scar on the visage of the one I loved - a scar that I simply couldn't ignore. We couldn't go on. I desperately wanted to care for my DS lite - and I did, but the line had thrown a spanner in our glorious works of love. I'm ashamed to say, I took it down to the store I bought it from, and sent it away to be repaired. I waited two weeks for news of its condition, but no news came. I couldn't sleep; all I thought about was my beautiful companion, lost and far away from home. I returned to the store, and to be shock, they seemed to have forgotten about the one that had given me so much gaming pleasure. To make a long story shorter, the eventually found out that the DS had been lost, and I would be given a suitable replacement. Finally, I was given the replacement today. It's a nice, new, shiny black DS lite, and in its own way, it's far sexier than my white DS lite ever was, yet it is no DS of mine. In time, I will grown to love this new friend, but now, all I can feel is guilt and sorrow - the pain of losing someone who gave me so much, and the sad, bitter knowledge that if I hadn't been so shallow, my lover would still be home - where it belongs.

You may cry now.

It's Mr. Ice cream!

I hope you like cherry! :D 

How can we see evil in the corner of out eyes?
How can we sense malice in those innocent sighs?
How can we know truth amongst thousands of lies?
All that is certain is I would like to eat a million pies.

I have called this humble blog of mine "Thoughts of a happy cloud", though it has recently occurred to me that I never post any actual thoughts here. Sure, I make rants, stories, pictures (well, masterpieces actually) and editorials, but never just the plain and simple thoughts going through my marvelous - albeit undeniably strange - mind.

Let's fix that, shall we?

Make yourself comfortable, because a tidal wave of thought is about to come rushing up to meet you...to say hello!

1. I think pizza is man's greatest achievement. I can never get enough of pizza, though I always eat to much. It's gotten to the stage where I have to force myself to eat something different, for variety's sake, but when pizza itself has so much variety, why bother? 

2. I have a love/hate relationship with the semicolon. There can be extended periods of time where I refuse to let the punctuation mark grace any of my writing, and I insist that it's a completely unnecessary invention that adds nothing to our language. I mean, who needs to connect independent clauses not joined by a coordinating conjunction anyway? I'd much rather use a dash thanks. And yet, there are times where I adore the semicolon, and find myself constantly making excuses to use it. A semicolon fetish if you will.

3 . At all times, I am in love with the comma. I admit, I use the device far more than necessary, and I doubt that half of the commas I use actually need to be there. Despite the knowledge of this, the comma will always be my best friend.

4. It seems I am going through a distressing phase where I always seem to have something to do. Oh wow, that looks pathetic in writing, but my point is, nothing seems to stop. I can't remember the last time where I was just sitting down doing nothing, with nothing planned for the foreseeable future. Work and study eat up the majority of my time, with Little Miss High-Maintenance and friends taking what little of it is left. From the scraps remaining, I post a little in certain forums, and maybe make a nice blog post. Apart from those things, it's just eating (which never seems to be its own activity) and sleeping. Oh yeah, sometimes I play video games - usually Lumines or more recently, my Wii.

5. I think that if I ever met Shigeru Miyamoto, I'd gouge my unworthy eyes out.  

6. Reading has always been a favourite of mine; Stephen King's creations are usually my poison.

7. As you might have guessed by now, I love writing, though as #4 has told us, I have very little time to do so. However, even when I do have the time, the actual act of writing in itself is painfully tedious. It's not so bad when I can type a story, but even then, I'd still prefer to just say the story out loud. Plus, spelling is a *****.

8. Swearing is hideously overused. Did you know that a single swear word can be used for any part of speech?I hate it when people use swearing in their everyday conversation to sound "cool" sometimes even saying a swear word before they figure out what they're going to say. :roll:

9. When I stub my toe, I say ****!

10. I can drive. Once, when I was driving in the suburbs, a little kid fell of his bike while riding on the sidewalk. I stopped the car and laughed, not to be mean, I just couldn't help it. He cried. To this day, his tears still haunt my dreams. 

11. I'm obsessive about spelling and grammatical errors. I always use the spellcheck button before posting, even if no "hard words" have been used. It's ironic, because I so often misuse punctuation marks, it's just that I can't stand displaying blatant errors for all to see.

12. Likewise, I hate bad grammar on the Internet. It's inconvenient, because there's so much of it. 

13. I sleep very little. I have coffee for that.

14. I love the name "Happy_Cloud" though I often feel as though people disrespect me because of it. As if I guy names "Happy_Cloud" could actually have a valid opinion, or say something that isn't sweet and innocent. Right? 

15. My favourite word is bosom, for many reasons. 

16. I will be New Zealand's ambassador for China. It's a scientific fact. 

17. Me and me girlfriend get along famously, though once we had a huge argument. In retrospect, having a shouting match over a slice of pie was slightly unnecessary. 

Well, that's enough thought to feed a small country. Hope I didn't hit you with too much of it. :P 

Golden sunlight streamed into Jessica's bedroom through gaps in her curtains, gently caressing her face with its tender warmth. Jessica's eyes slowly flickered open, and she smiled at the prospect of the new day. She leapt out of bed and thrust open the curtains. She was wearing pajamas which she soon replaced with a vibrant dress, emblazoned with sunflowers.

No sooner than she had slipped the dress over her petite figure, her mother burst in through the door, screaming in a petrified frenzy. Jessica's blood ran cold as her mother exclaimed, "he's dead, he's dead, the beast killed him!" Jessica knew the beast her mother was referring to all too well. It was the same beast that had haunted her dreams for the past 15 years, ever since that fateful night where blood spilled onto the street in front of her eyes. Suddenly, the aforementioned creature tore into the room, its chilling roar echoing within Jessica's heart. It flexed its enormous muscles and in one clean swipe, it tore its razor sharp claws through Jessica's mother's neck, slicing her head clean off. Blood splattered over Jessica's dress, suffocating the sunflowers in a crimson sea of torment. The beast sneered at Jessica, the moment hanging in the air as she stood paralyzed with fear. Then as fast as it had appeared, the beast vanished, leaving only its putrid scent, a broken door, and a bloody corpse as evidence of its visit. Jessica flirted for a moment with the idea of breakfast, but her mother's decapitated head, locked in a now awkward smile soon rid her mind of such trivial thoughts. Jessica stood for exactly 12 minutes, deep in thought and shock. She knew what she must do. Jessica decided to hunt down the beast and exact her violent revenge.

The next day, Jessica's bitter plan for vengeance began to take its ghastly shape. She wolfed down a breakfast of 2 raw eggs, and looked at herself in the mirror, perfecting her best determined expression.

She was ready.

Later, after vigorous training, a series of trials, gory encounters, disembowelments and a light lunch, Jessica was ready (to take on the beast). She arrived at the beast's cavernous lair in a pent up state of rage that she was inclined to unleash against her adversary.

After traversing a plethora of pitfalls and ravines obscured in complete darkness, she found herself standing face to face with the embodiment of pure evil, with a dash of fear (the beast from earlier in the story). Her hands found the legendary blade (she had acquired earlier that day) strapped to her waist and as she unsheathed it from its shaft of truth angels sang their celestial ballad of faith from the heavens. Jessica knew in her heart in that moment, she would finally have her vengeance that she had so vehemently sought since the morning before. In a breath-taking moment of truth, she raised her blade above her head and spoke the sacred words of power, causing the sword to surge with an incandescent aurora of justice. For a brief second, the beast was blinded, but in the next its eyes adjusted, and it ripped out Jessica's throat in one fluid motion.

That night, the beast went to sleep with a full stomach.

THE END