BAH! BAH! I say...

*sigh*
LJ is under a DDoS attack. According to the Status page, they're 'filtering around 1/4 of the IPs on the net'. According to the page, this will only inconvenience 'some' users. But everyone I talk to is barricaded out. I got lucky; this machine, on this range of IPs, has -never- visited LJ before... so apparently it's not part of the big filter. So I'm using Lynx, and updating via an extremely ugly text only page.

As I commented to wibbble a bit ago, these idiots (the ones behind the DDoS attack) need to take up a NONdestructive hobby. Like self lobotomizing! Or spontaneous combustion. Harsh? Well, I think I'm being gentle. My preference would be the one-by-one removal of each finger and toe without anaesthesia, followed by burning hot pokers in the eyes.

Sorry. I just don't find this at -all- amusing.

*hugs and cuddles*
~Ellie-chan

(no subject)

"Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do; Devise reason later. Born from Oblivion, bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into Oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random; has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it too long; no meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not Fate that butchers them or Destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us."

-"Watchmen," Alan Moore

It's been that kind of day. A fragment of this quote has played in my mind for a good long while; all that remains of a former Mistress on Tapestries MUCK. She departed without warning, without provocation... leaving behind a coded 'doll' that offered quote snippets from 'The Watchmen'. It remains all I have left of her, and I suspect it too will be gone when the next idlepurge is run.

Disconnected, disjointed thoughts plague me; I'm unable to get my mind completely together today, and it's ... distressing. In place of coherent thought I have pain, loneliness, and the whacked out singing horses that lys1022 sent me earlier. At least the horsies are amusing, in a warped way. Thank you, love.

Chatted briefly with R... again the disconnectedness came into play, and I never properly synched into the conversation. It faltered. Attempted conversations with Sapphi and Tigger fared the same. Geeked intermittently with wibbble; that fared better, proving I can geek even when unconscious.

I'm going to go back to trying not to burn dinner. Maybe thing's'll be better tomorrow...
*hugs*
~Ellie-chan