[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Cameron Croft's LiveJournal:
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|Wednesday, February 9th, 2005|
Well, I have decided to leave live journal. Nobody cares about a stranger bitching about how he has no friends. I certainly don't. So long. Don't bother posting, whoever may come here in the far future. I won't be checking it. I would like to thank the folks at livejournal. It was nice to post some of my feelings I guess.
|Monday, February 7th, 2005|
I am thoroughly done with my sketchy doodle comic phase. I will never again make another. Not that anybody cares or anything. There is a possibility I will get my own computer this very day. Joy!
|Saturday, February 5th, 2005|
I need friends. So now I will join some groups nad meet people with similar interests. on this site, that is.
One of my greatest fears is suddenly not being able to draw any better...never advancing in skill, then never being able to make a living off of it. I constantly strive to be excellent at what I do. Despite how much I believe myself to be a pleasant and modest individual, every time I see some one do something better than me I get jealous. I'm only 15 yeats of age, lots of time to catch up and get better, right? Who knows. Maybe some people never advance in skill after a certain point. Maybe I am one of them.
When it comes time to get a job, I hope I can get something that makes use of my artistic talents...I just couldn't stand to do any other job...my math skills are questionable, I can't deal with people, I am unorganised, don't work well with others, lack common sense...I guess I could work at a factory. My brother is an excellent artist, but he works with mentally retarded criminal offenders at these special appartments. It really doesn't sound too bad, though; Keep an eye on the 'tards and mostly do whatever you like. He plays videogames.
Another thing...I am not modest. When I do something better than someone else, or at least think I do, I gloat secretly to myself. I am incredibly vain, even if I don't say anything aloud. Also, I say I too much. Hope I can learn to fix that, it is a bad habit.
It is a fact that I have no friends, and perhaps it is the fact that I am vain. It doesn't directly affect anything, but I don't consider a lot of people good enough...which is why I don't start conversation with people...also I hate to be the friendless person who is talked to once, then comes back like an abandoned puppy and constantly expects attention...those are the only people who talk to me...people who I share no interests with, but come back because a long time ago I made one remark about something, not even implying I wished to be friends or even aquaintances. For example, I overheard this guy talking about how he got Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, so I asked him if it was good as I was going to get it. He and I exchanged a few words and then he constantly stopped me in the halls to talk about anything he felt like. I wouldn't mind to talking to the guy if he were not some one who fights with teachers, makes rude comments, tries to be clever and is not, says "It's sorcery!" all the time and thinks it is quite funny, etc... Am I just so vain that I think everybody isn't good enough for me, or is it my school, I wonder? Maybe I am looking at the wrong age group. My sister's friends are all older then her, by 3 or more years. I should probably stop being so full of myself and just get some friends. Someone to talk to is better than no one. Ack. I typed too much.
Here is the first sketchy doodle comic ever. I wish I got my scanner to work so I could stop assing around on MSpaint and draw them by hand. Enjoy...or not.
In case you are wondering, he is in a padded room on the last box. Hence why he is comfortable...
|Thursday, February 3rd, 2005|
|Third ever SD comic
To celebrate the filling of my first page, 20 entries, I present to you, a comic!
Other than that nothing really is very interesting. Comic inspired by the cooler, but I finally just now made it. Oh yeah. School. Second semester. Web design class...am planning to make a sketchy doodle website. Perhaps I will tell you of it when I am done.
|Wednesday, February 2nd, 2005|
Yeah...I'll do a comic some day. My friend noratheunicorn was talking about "googlism.com" in her livejournal. Thought I would investigate:
cameron is a real blonde, cameron is sexy, cameron is the love coach, cameron is famous, cameron is master of hearts, cameron is the hottest piece of ass on the web, cameron is hot, cameron is scheduled for one more surgery, cameron is the largest, cameron is doing what all epic artists do, cameron is approximately 5580, cameron is now... I don't get it. No mood today, fellows. I am too lazy.
|Tuesday, February 1st, 2005|
|Mullet boy is a-ok
Today in art class I talked to a student with a mullet. He likes loud music. But he is a-ok, because he is an artist like myself. We briefly talked about how we hated it when people asked what our drawing were, what they did, what their names were, and especially when they up and grabbed your picture without your consent. Unfortunately, mullet boy just doesn't cut it as a friend. You may have noticed lately I am adding my own mood expressions. I plan to have a huge library of them eventually. Currently working on Badass, curious, and Lucky moods.
|Monday, January 31st, 2005|
I'll post twice in one day, goddamnit, because I can! Changed back to the grey theme, the blue was too dark. Grey also looks good with Sketchy Doodle crap. I wish I had some human contact...but my standards for friends do not sway...better no friends than crappy friends who steal shit from you and are immature. And lie constantly. You can feed me the "Oh, anybody can be your friend, you just have to try!", but NO! I have standards! The same goes for girlfriends, I will never have a girl friend unless she is great, not just anyone. BAH! Who needs friends or girlfriends? Humbug! On a lighter note, the semester is almost over, so I will be getting new classes and improving the chances of meeting someone cool at my shitty school.
Why do people make out on the bus? Bleh. I felt like puking. But I don't feel like harping on others so I'll talk about this: On my way home from school the usual dog in a fence barked at me, then another dog started barking at me; a big k-9. I fantasized about savagely beating it as I walked onwards. While it would be impossible to hurt the dog in the fence as it's house was right next to it, the K-9 seemed to be wandering. But, I am no animal abuser, even if dogs barking at me every single day after school does wear on my patience. I think I would be an angry drunk, if I were ever to get drunk. Also, I think I am turning into my brother...temperment wise, although I have made improvements over the years. He isn't a drunk or an angry drunk, just angry. Cats are good for stress. Except my grey one, he stinks like ass.
|Saturday, January 29th, 2005|
I just watched The Cooler on tv. It rocks. I love you HBO. Except Sex And The City...and Entourage...and Family Bonds...and...ok...nevermind. I mostly like you, HBO...but I love Carnivale, Deadwood, Six Feet Under, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and some others I don't feel like remembering. Or is that it?
I am going to get my own photobucket account so I don't crowd my sister's account with dumb crap. Made a new icon. That is all.
|Wednesday, January 26th, 2005|
I feel like Milo from the Phantom Tollbooth. Nothing interesting ever happens to me, and I am neither happy nor depressed. Which makes me stoop low enough to gossip about people. Here you go.
Bus Talk: I overheard this utter a**hole talking about how he wanted to kick this guy's a** for looking tough but couldn't do it because the cop and security guard that patrol our school were always too close. Also, he didn't want to make a bad impression in front of a group of girls. Douche.
The security guard is pretty cool. He acts like a promotional speaker at assemblies....strange.
Anywho that is all. I also made this comic.
|Tuesday, January 25th, 2005|
I hate my school. Apparently there was yet another fight, a police man even had to handcuff one of the guys(according to rumors). People who fight are retarded. Seriously, what a fucking stupid thing to do. It isn't even just the guys either, girls do it almost as much for no better a reason. I got my fill of gossip on my ever so crappy bus and last period. Must have happened later in the day. That is all. Current Mood: amazed
|Sunday, January 23rd, 2005|
|Popping Caps in Carnies
Well, I haven't posted in a while, truth is, I probably will abandon this website sooner or later. Been playing Red-Dead Revolder lately, as well as windaker and resident evil 4. My brain is cloudy with many story lines and I have been playing all weekend. Resident evil 4 makes me paranoid, so I haven't played it too much. Windwaker is amazing, as always, and Red-Dead is a really awsome third person shooter. I thought it was neat how you could mount a buffalo and trample baddies. Not so big on the fighting carnies though, got me out of the western mood. The game is very well made but not many polygons were put into the hands or hair, so people looked slightly blocky close up. No problem, as the awsomeness of the combat more than makes up for it. I am now developing a headache, but soon I will feel like playing more RDR. Good night! Current Mood: Brain cloud
|Wednesday, January 19th, 2005|
|A story of the depressing sort.
Ok, so I felt crappy today so I wrote this depressing short story whilst listening to sad music. It's kind of like a twisted fairy tale. Here you go, have fun.
Oakfellow the Giant, And The Origins of Jack
Inspired by BFG by Ronald Dahl, and the Jack And the Beanstalk folk tale.
Once upon a time, there was a giant named Oakfellow. He did not live with the other giants, for they were loud, raucous, and mean. You see, Oakfellow was no ordinary giant. He was much bigger, about the size of an oak tree, if you can imagine, and stronger as well. But the most definitive feature of Oakfellow was his oversized ears. He was a sensitive giant, and he found no sympathy among his brethren. The slightest noise would send Oakfellow into a frenzy, and it took hours to calm him. The giants banded together and exiled Oakfellow to an obscure mountain range when he was a child, which proved to be a difficult task even then because of his size and power.
So there he grew up in peace and solitude for many years, so many in fact, that he lost count. Oakfellow enjoyed the solitude, especially the silence, for no sounds were to be heard except the soft babbling of a brook and the distant chirp of blue birds.
One fateful day, Oakfellow noticed a large billow of smoke coming out from deep within a nearby forest. Suspecting a fire, Oakfellow hobbled over to see what was happening, and he was very much surprised. As neared the cause of a smoke he saw people, happy people. A Farmer, as well as their wives and four children, three happily playing and one, the smallest, sitting on a haystack . The children’s little voices boomed in his ears as they play. Memories of anger and exile arisen, a hot rage overtook him. Oakfellow burst through the trees, took the children, and flung them far, far, far over the mountains until they could not be heard, then quickly retreated through the woods. The other humans hadn’t enough time for the events to go to their head, and Oakfellow was allowed an expeditious retreat without further noise.
Oakfellow was crushed when his rage wore off; for he had murdered three children and caused the farmer and his wife much sorrow. He wanted terribly to make it up to them, but what could one do to compensate for a loss such as three children? And how could he approach them? The gentle giant crawled into a dark cave and sobbed quietly to himself for three days, one for each of the children. He did not eat and only drank occasionally from small waterfall outside his refuge.
Meanwhile the family was struggling. The mother was so stricken with grief she became bedridden and the little boy could no longer spoke. The father decided to hunt down the giant lest they fall victim to poverty. The only ones capable of working in the fields were the father, and the son, weak of frame. It was a known fact them giants hoarded wealth, and it was the family’s only option. The father set off into the mountains with only food for two days and a rusted sword from his days of knighthood, telling his son to stay and watch after his mother.
The father climbed to the top of the mountain, reaching it after four days of climbing. Silently, ever so silently, he crept into the cave, and stopped at a large lump of a silhouette; The giant. Oakfellow was awake and heard him sneaking in, but did not move, just glanced over his shoulders sorrowfully, oh so sorrowfully. He knew anger would overtake him. And hunger. “End it…please,” the giant lamented, a near whisper. The father, surprised at the giant’s remark and awareness of the situation, jumped back, his rusted sword hitting the ground with a dull clank, which was like blaring thunder to Oakfellow. Cringing, the giant stood up, resisting the burning desire to let loose his wrath. His hunger became like a knife in his gut and he could no longer stand it. He lunged, gripping the man’s neck with his tree trunks of hands, little noise could be heard but a muffled snap and the dying breathe of the man who oppose him. Oakfellow dropped to his knees and sobbed, a rasping whisper. Without thought, he consumed the corpse of the father, bones and all.
Weeks passed and the little boy became desperate. His mother was unconscious a great deal of time and they no longer had any food. He ventured out into the mountains to fight the giant, scrounging for berries when he was hungry. He soon came to the cave, it’s entrance ominous. Silently, ever, ever, so silently he crept inside, finding the rusty blade before him, he slowly picked it up. In the distance he saw the silhouette of the creature, and crept even more carefully forward. Surprise took the boy when the shadow’s eyes opened, two gleaming orbs, but the boy did not stray from his mission, he quickly thrust the heavy sword forward with all his strength. Deeper the sword dug into the flesh of the giant, ever so deeper. A dry gasp, then all was silent.
Yeh, It's not perfect, I just spontaniously felt like writing some sad shit, so I did it. Thank you dictionary.com for providing me with a larger range of vocabulary. Don't expect to see another masterpiece any time soon.
|Tuesday, January 18th, 2005|
|Antlions and tigers and bears, oh my!
Yeh, my last picture may seem a little dark on some of your monitors. But here's what I gots to say to that: Maybe he's not too dark. Maybe everyone else is just too bright. Anywho, maybe I fix that later. Her's an antlion from finall fantasy games! I didn't want to look it up so it is only roughly an antlion, drawn from memory.
Notice the sideburns and goatee.
|Monday, January 17th, 2005|
WOW! I can make awsome non-NES spritey pixel art and I didn't even know it 'til yesterday! I drew that badass dude:
...and joined a pixel art group, not neccesarily in that order. Backwards, in fact (:]. All the people there are good and cool, but I gets jealous so I wants to work hard and beat them all...current other sprites I'm working on is a totem pole monster and an ant-lion-ish looking thing. As in antlions from final fatasy games. They're neat. Yeh, Later- I'm going to enjoy my day off school. Current Mood: Creative
|Sunday, January 16th, 2005|
I'm noticing that lately I am conducting a lot of electricity...my hair always sticks to my face and I keep shocking my cats when I pet them. It doesn't even matter where I am. I wonder what the crap is causing it? Anywho, I've begun a project I am calling 8-bit Realms. It will be sort of a paper and pencil mmorpg...but I have no idea how one could play something like that online without it being incredibly tedious...for it has a complex grid battle system! Anywho, for now I'm just building it for my own amusement. Here's a screenshot of what I'd expect it to look like: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v33/noratheunicorn/example.png
PS: Magnetic Fields are great, you should listen to them! Current Mood: indescribable
|Saturday, January 15th, 2005|
|Yet another day...
Well, I inked a few cool drawings just for my sketchy_doodle group but I cannot scan them, for my scanner is being lame! Curses! Oh well, It seems I'll have to stick to my MSpaint shannanagans. Schenanegans? Shennanagens? Uh, whatever. I also feel gross because I ate a big thing of KFC popcorn chicken....very little chicken, very much grease and batter. Chewy bits...
Can YOU find Waldo?http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v33/noratheunicorn/WheeeeresWaldo.png
|Wednesday, January 12th, 2005|