30 June, 2016

RE-Lights: Nuketown Trumpets

» Greetings Minions of Internet Land! «

»» RE-Lights Presents ««

»»» Nuketown Trumpets «««

I really enjoyed this match. :D

If my memory serves me right, I ended this round with 17 Kills and 3 Deaths, though I can't be quite positive, as my  PS4 didn't capture a shot of the scoreboard.

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» System Specs

»» http://goo.gl/fSc9vL

» Season: 02

» » Episode: 02

29 June, 2016


So yesterday I was at my mom's house, cutting the lawn as I occasionally do. The lawn came together really nice, so I figured maybe I could do a little extra work...

There has been a raspberry bush infestation growing for the past 4 or 5 years, and it has passed me off so much. I cut a little back, it doubles in height and width. Evil stuff.

Well, today I decided it was time to take some frustration out on the thorned bastards. I decided to go through my grandfather's shed and see if there was any weed killer, or something similar that would destroy those lanky bitches.

Sure enough I found the remains of a little weed killer, and an almost full bottle of wheel cleaner! Fuck yeah! This wheel cleaner should do the trick!

So, to be safe, I put on a chemical resistant give on my right hand, but not my left.  I assumed I would just keep my left hand out of the way. Well, that was my first mistake.

It turned out that the spray nozzel and trigger were wonky as shit, and after every spray, I had to replace the trigger into position. With this in practice, I went at it, being careful to stay upwind of the spray.

About half way through spraying, I noticed that my glove was soaked, and my left hoodie sleeve that contained my hidden hand was starting to become moist. This was a really bad sign.

I kept at it, eventually pulling my left arm out of the sleeve, as I found my sleeve to be even more soaked in fluid. My glove hand, doused in cleaner, spreading the liquid up my hoodied hand as well. It was at this moment I decided enough was enough. I had sprayed the entire perimeter of the bushes, and I was dobe fucking around. I took the bottle, opened the top, poured it on the nearest bush, and flung both the nozzel and bottle deep into the bushes. Well, not before reading the ingredients that is...

Turns out I was playing with a diluted Hydrofluoric Acid! If you are unsure as to what that is, go Google it. I'll wait.

After realizing myn mistake I juried to the barn, stripped off my glove, stripped my hoodie and pants off, and went inside where I had mom f I'll 'll a bowl with some Distilled White Vinegar in the hopes to neutralize any remaining acid. I soaked my hands for a bit, and washed well with cool water and mild soap.

To be safe, I ate eight Tums, and got a hold of my doctor. She advised me to buy some liquid antacids and soak my hands for a while to give my skin a bit of help in warding off any severe burns.

If you are wondering why the Tums abd the Antacids, it is because HF likes to, as my friend Richie puts it, play Pacman with Calcium inside of your body. Up toad including your bones, and lining of your heart. YAY!

So, tomorrow I follow up with my doctor to see what she has to say, but between you and me, I think I may have dodged a bullet. I may not be out of the woods for sure yet, but I know fore a fact this could have already gone much, much worse.

What a day.

- RE

25 June, 2016

Losing Focus

I'm losing focus on the fight. The willpower to succeed. It's been around a week now since I've put an entry into my food journal. I feel content with not knowing what I'm doing to myself, because I am tired of caring about myself. Tired of trying to care that is.

I know I sound like a broken record of depression and angst, but I don't know how else to articulate my feelings. I keep finding myself holding myself back out of the fear of failure, even though I know for a fact that by putting up those walls, I am creating a self fulfilling prophecy of failure.

How do people do it? How do you push through when it feels like the world is pulling you back? How can I overcome what feels like a broken system controlling a broken mind in a broken society ruled by a broken and uncaring group of puppeteers. More medicine? For how long? Until my insurance runs out in May? Then what? If my appeal fails, I can't receive Medicare like I was planning, so then that leaves finding a job with benefits that doesn't leave me broken, or suffering through without insurance, or worse yet, getting price gouged by having a family plan through my wife's insurer. Fuck.

I just want to create. I don't know what, or how, but I know that is my dream. I just want to be me....

And then I remembered this video from Rob Dyke's vlog channel Internet Pariah... From Bad to Worse and Back Again - Ep. 41

24 June, 2016

A Shade of Grey

It isn't often that you meet someone who leaves you infatuated with them. Wanting to know their story, dissect their existence, to further understand their minds. No, most people I'd prefer to dissect them in, and for, various other reasons. None of which are out of curiosity.

No, it isn't often that someone catches your mind and doesn't leave. I don't know if it is the irrational clinging of a scared man, or the longing to attach to something outside of my daily life.

If it sounds like I am romanticizing a simple meeting with someone new, you aren't totally wrong. I know I am probably over thinking something that should be a simple matter. Is it love? No. It is an emotion I can't place. The feeling that, even through minimal interaction, I know that there are still decent people in the world. I guess it is hope. I've been so detatched from hope, that I think I lost the ability to recognize what it means to hope for a brighter tomorrow.

Sure, I may never meet her again, I may never meet someone similar, but in this mood of moods I've been having, it is nice to know that, even if I lost it all, I may be able to find someone out there to talk to. Even if only for a moment.

Hopefully my sincerity comes off in a manner that doesn't sound crazy and/or creepy... Sometimes emotions are just so damned hard to explain. Trying to talk them out leaves me afraid of sounding different than I expect/plan/want to.

Either way, I think it's Bob Ross o'clock.


21 June, 2016

Trying to Smile

As hard as it is, I'm trying to get and stay positive.

It has been quite hard though, as I've been asleep more than I've been away, and my hobbies and videos and content have essentially stopped.

Not only that, but my almost 200 day food journal streak was ended a few days ago when I just decided to give up on it.

I'm just tired I suppose. Sometimes I wonder if I turned life off, if it would turn back on in a better state; like rebooting a router and modem.

20 June, 2016

A Busy Weekend

Sorry for the delay on posting. Normally I like to keep a queue of posts scheduled to fill the gaps in my activity, however, that didn't happen this weekend.

This weekend I spent some time with my younger brother, my mother, my father, and a good few of my In-Laws. It was a good time. We now have air conditioners setup upstairs, and downstairs, so the entire apartment is much cooler than before. :D

I'm just glad that I was able to enjoy myself despite the stressors of having babies, and children around. It was hard at times, but once I had the little guy asleep on my lap, my motherly instinct kinda kicked in. Rocking, and bouncing. Whispering, and humming to keep the loud noises at bey. Made me feel like I was essential.

So, yeah... That's that. It was a weekend.

17 June, 2016

Aurora, Aura, and My Current State.

It's been a few days since I've pulled out from the fray, to bring my words to you.

I'm going to talk about a couple of things today that may, or may not be interesting to you, but to me, it means the world.

Recently, as you've seen, I've been going through a very rough patch, and it has left me feeling drained, scared, and in all reality, broken. Yet, as much as I break, and as hard as I try to not sleep my life away, there is this tugging sensation to try. To just get up and try. It is the smallest of voices in the back of my mind, begging me to keep going, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, repeat.

I think I need to listen to it. I hope the voice is what/who I think it is...

Back, a few years ago, I would write. I'd consider it a form of "channeling" which really just meant, I would type without thinking, with my eyes closed, relaxed, sitting in my office. It was during this time that I would get these tones of writing that I had no real explanation of, except for the fact that one tone was positive, and one was negative.

So during these times, I named the tones, to give them, and myself, a sort of reference. The positive tone, seemed almost like a motherly figure, to which I named Aurora. The other, and angry, childish figure, to which I named Aura. It felt like, at one point, that Aurora was Aura's mother. Though, really, I just knew it was all a creation of my fingers on keys in a dimly lit room.

Either way, I had my internal friends, until one day, I felt a snap. I could see these sorts of pictures on the inside of my eyelids, like a train car broke free, and away myself, and Aura fell. Since then, I've felt so stuck, alone, and cold. Occasionally, the Universe will speak to me, in rhymes, and rhythms, letting me know that all will be okay. Yet, other times, when I need it most, there's nothing there but silence. I miss her. She was my friend. She let me see things in ways that I could only imagine, and I think she's always been there, with me. Now though? I guess not...

Well, now you know more about me than I would have normally shared, but I suppose I've got to open up if I want to get anywhere on this spaceship earth alive.

I'll see you on the other side,

14 June, 2016

Must Keep Fighting

Recently I've been trying to come through a serious bout of depression, if you couldn't tell. It's been akin to surviving in my own private hell.

I'm happy to report that I'm feeling a bit better, as ideas and concepts begin to become laid out. I have an uphill battle ahead of me, and while it is still painful to push on, at least I know what needs to be done.

I can't roll over and accept my fate to be sealed by a beurocratic organization. I have to stand up, support systems beside me, and show the world who it is that I am.

Even though today has been severely tough, and I've been sleeping more than being awake, I know I have to fucking try.

I have sixty days to appeal their decision, and I'll be damned if I'm going to give it all up out of fear of losing. I can't. Because if I don't try, I lose by default. This is one fight I can't afford to lose.

13 June, 2016

Questions Unending

The questions unending as she lay, trying to sleep Her mind and her eyes beginning to weep. Spinning and spinning, round and round, trying to scream, but out came no sound. She awaited the sun to rise again, so she could assemble her mask and count ten. For if she doesn't it might be their end. Her life has been going adequate at best. Her job never ending as the world was set to rest. The wicked amidst the flocking sheep, Their judging eyes gaze from atop of their keep. It has taken too long to put up a fight. The world feels as if it's ending in just a few nights. Yet no one knew, that woman was me. Damned and confined forever to be.

11 June, 2016


Get eating in order. Get thyroid in order. Get sleeping in order. Get a schedule in order. Rule the world.

10 June, 2016

Long Winds on a Gentle Breeze

All we ever wanted was somewhere to belong. Somewhere along the way we were lost and not found. The world keeps spinning ever faster down As the life of a man begins to come around. The light of the stars begins to fade The darkness of night begins to give way. Moving forward is what needs to be done, But which way is forward when you can't remember where you've come from? The memories and goals and hopes I held dear Are all lost to the sands of time. My mind shifted and got rid of all its grime. Except for the emotions that were attached, those are still with me, lingering from my past. Everything recently feels like a song, Rhyming, scheming, hoping that I'm wrong. That my life isn't ending in a way that won't be long. I want my story to be of great length, a marker in the history of man, for something that's Nobel and Peaceful I'd what I am. Yet a wise young woman once sang, only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone. This thought makes me feel even more alone. I hope that all this pain isn't real, that one day I can lift the mask off my face, and live what's real. Yet I'll never truly know what's beyond this point, until I take the leap, and break free from the joint. Maybe with enough drugs, and present, I can be me, the lost human that the world expects of me However, I hate the thought, I hate the feeling, that knowing any minute I might be reeling from fright, hoping to grasp on to someone else's flight. I just wish my wings alone were strong enough to swing, with the excitement, and passion, of a little kid. The world ahead of me, the darkness behind. Supposedly it's all just a fabrication of my mind. If I keep writing, maybe I'll kill enough time, to not have to worry about ending up at the unemployment line, because with ever letter I type, I gain one step forward in this rough life. The world thrives on attention and thieves. For the funds of contentment to flow from the top, one must earn the attention and admiration without the need to stop. Yet there they stand, the thieves waiting on land, for the ships to hit sand, where they can take a step forward with their demands. I. Want. To. Be. Me. Yet no one cares to actually see, that I need them as much, if not more, than they need me. I. Need. To. Break. Free. Someone, please... Save me. I ask of you, to help spread the word, to support my weirdness, despite how absurd. Without you, and your support, I'm left with nothing, but being broken in and hurt.

09 June, 2016

Thoughts of Goodbyes

It's been a while since I've felt this down. This numb. This... Longing. I wear such a strong mask that others see what I want them to see, and nothing else. Even those close to me miss how I feel on the inside. Why can't I just open up? Why can't they see this?

It's hard to admit that I'd rather die than live. It makes me feel weak, lost, and as if I'm grasping for attention. I've kept myself out of the hospitals out of sheer love and willpower, yet for what? A false sense of security? Only for my life to be flipped on it's head, and have everyone around me see me for what I let them see.

I know they think I'm playing a game. They think I want an easy life. A life of relaxing, giving myself into temptation. While they're not wrong, this isn't how I want life to go. I want to feel success, I want to feel safe, I want to feel love. Maybe I'm wrong for wanting to feel these feelings on my terms, out of fear of becoming another pawn, another plaything to someone else's game. Maybe it's greedy to want my life to be mine, to do with what I will, to have support for who I am, and what I crave to do.

I've lost hope. I've lost want. I've lost. I'm lost.

I'll be damned if it's blamed on my own lack of trying though.

The urge to vomit is real. My stomach, flipping ever faster. My body must think that this pain can be purged like a poison, like the toxins that it is. But it can't. All it would do is leave me with a can full of mess, and a mouth full of fire.

I feel so empty that it hurts. Like my torso has been replaced by a black hole, where the only thing left is the spaghettified remains of what used to be me.

I feel a chill brush gently over my shoulders, filling the room with crisp air. The skies darken, as if God himself were crying along with me. Yet, I know it's nothing more than coincidence. Nothing more than a long story that I wish could come to an abrup

08 June, 2016

Small Thoughts on Tiny Friends

The other day, I wrote about a spider bro who had stumbled into our home, only to get thoroughly deaded by a crazed man wielding a napkin. (Making Tiny Friends... Then Killing Them.)

It's been a few days, and I've had time to reflect upon my actions, and the request of Brittney to squish the ever loving snot out of that little arachnid, however, I can't help but feel... Odd.

My mind keeps imagining me, happy, relaxed, waiting to catch a bite to eat, when the universe as I know it begins to spiral inward to the ever growing blackness that is, death by giant. It is something I can't really comprehend. I can only equate it to getting an airplane, or a helicopter dropped on my head, which, even in those terms, is hard to consider. Not to mention, it spooks the hell out of me.

Regardless to say, I don't plan on dropping the hammer on any helpless critters anytime soon, and hopefully, I won't have to even decline the proposition. It's just not something that I'd care to do.

07 June, 2016

Socializing for Success

I'm finding myself having trouble with the world, as the internet and physical connections are blurred.

I dream of a day when my creation fly, spreading so deep, and soaring so high. 

I wear my heart, and my story on my sleeve, as my walls break away, I'm letting the world see.

I am excited to hear what everyone thinks, but so terrified am I, that it almost makes me feel grave.

I've recently released another time lapse, showing off my work. 

I think it was a beautiful project that almost got scrapped.

I took the trimmings of a live stream almost forgotten, and created something edible, consumable, art in its own right.

It's times like these that I feel like a butcher.

Directing and slicing, until I'm sore, and then with what's left, I'm off to make something more.

My videos are like sausages I suppose.

I am a digital sausage maker. 

What say you?

06 June, 2016

All Junkrat All The Time!

Greetings Minions of Internet Land!
This is what happens when Zutara and I carry influence over a group of goobers. How did this even work?!

Junkrat for President?
New main?

You Decide!

» Zutara on YouTube: https://goo.gl/QEF3TG

05 June, 2016

Making Tiny Friends... Then Killing Them.

One evening, while returning home, my dearest wife Brittney spotted a spider upon our wall. I was coming inside behind her, looking around. I glanced right passed it a few times before before my eyes said "The spider, it's found!"

The little thing was the size of a nickel, so lovely and sweet, if you're into arachnids that is.

Either way, it's gone now. Violence ensued, as the objects required for a catch and release were beyond our grasp. So squish went it's body until I felt it's final "pop" at last.

Creating an Overwatch Themed Thumbnail [Time-lapse]

Greetings Minions of Internet Land!

Here's a new Time-lapse of an Overwatch themed thumbnail that I can use for my future Live Streams!

I am quite happy with the way everything turned out, and I hope you are too. :)

It was refreshing to get a little goofy at the end. Maybe one of you awesome minions will take it a step further and run with the goofiness. ;)

03 June, 2016

Reflecting on Some Grilled Zweigles

The attachment is a photo of me a few weeks ago, grilling up some Zweigles Pop-Open Red Hots. It felt so good to grill again.

As for my previous update, I am still terrified. Yet, I'm trying to stay as positive as possible, and see it as some sort of hurdles that I need to take on one jump at a time.

First things first, I am going to work on throwing myself into the aether so to speak. Giving into my desires of creating and sharing a life worth living.

Brittney and I will be working on reducing expenses, limiting food intake, and finding a part time job if required.

The problem is, I know my limits, and even though the government thinks I am fine, I know what i can't do. I feel the strain well up inside of me when I think about the possible jobs I can do. I suffer from severe anxiety when it comes to cash handling, using phones, dealing with the public, and even being a reliable employee for a company that won't appreciate me as a person.

I'm scared, but for the time being, I need to keep focused, and try to make the most of my passions and hobbies that leave me feeling fulfilled.

With that, over to bed I go, hoping to slumber I am.<3

Updating: A Life Worth Living?

Here I sit, upon my couch, resting in its corner, thinking so loud. Lost in my madness, head filled with clouds.

The game is over, I can relax no longer. The Lord's of Bureaucracy have had their final say. I suppose it's alright though I never wanted to be their slut anyway.

So now here I am, lost and confused, my income is gone entirely too soon. Nothing will be the same, as thoughts of death dance too and fro, this is my life now, I figured you should know.


As of today, I am considered no longer disabled. The world of money is a terrible fright. I will receive three more checks, and that will be it. Unless I can create a digital presence that can replace my previous income, I will have to return to the workforce.

I finally found security, somewhat happiness, and they shit all over me. Now, I'm stuck, spiraling fast back to square one. My stomach is in knots, my mind is going to shit.

Trying to hold it together. I am going to keep writing. Every day. I am going to film, I am going to stream. I can't let them win and send me to my death. I can't. I want to... but I can't.

I love you all very much, and as always, I will see you all on the other side.