This has to be frustrating. After spending an average of about 12 hours brainstorming, throwing ideas, OR modeling in Gloria Jeans Eastwood and the C5 branch of McDonald's, the solution remains beyond our reach. I sure hope we don't have to scrap the thing completely, otherwise that would supremely suck. In any case though, we have a second all nighter coming and the thought of it alone does wonders in sapping the lights out of my already fragile state of mind.
If only programs could write themselves.
If only the blank sheet didn't seem so daunting.
If only the ideas would start coming already.
The pressure is on, no doubt. Nearly all the other groups we asked are either done, or at some vestige of completion. I just hope this doesn't drag on til the wee hours of the morning again.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Nobody Said It Was Easy
Enter hell week. You're pressed for time. You're juggling deadlines by the tips of your nails. And you wonder about the seemingly terse monotony of it all. Wonder if somehow, by some brilliant stroke of fortuity you would find and trace the yarn out of the labyrinth that is your hell hole.
Yet in the paleness of this sordid milieu even the act of finding color is an uphill battle. Notice the grayscaled Hues of the world as they hurl their a posteriori's, their it-will-have-some-use-eventually crap like a broken record spitting diatribes in a parlor.
But still it remains elusive.
Like the solitude of your dreams.
Like sand, bereft of water, as it slips through your fingers and into itself once more.
Like the traces of our past and the meaning of its lore.
Yet in the paleness of this sordid milieu even the act of finding color is an uphill battle. Notice the grayscaled Hues of the world as they hurl their a posteriori's, their it-will-have-some-use-eventually crap like a broken record spitting diatribes in a parlor.
But still it remains elusive.
Like the solitude of your dreams.
Like sand, bereft of water, as it slips through your fingers and into itself once more.
Like the traces of our past and the meaning of its lore.
It's Gonna Be Quite a Long Day
Things to do:
1. Attend POM and OR Classes
2. Cram Bam's Hype Poster
3. Adman Photoshoot
4. Postprocess and Photoshop
5. All Nighter for the Superproject at Gloria Jeans Eastwood
6. Finish Philo Reading
1. Attend POM and OR Classes
2. Cram Bam's Hype Poster
3. Adman Photoshoot
4. Postprocess and Photoshop
5. All Nighter for the Superproject at Gloria Jeans Eastwood
6. Finish Philo Reading
Rebirth
I have come to the point where once again I find myself in the gutters, having to claw my way back up inch by inch. Perhaps the only thing different this time around is that it's not the grades that I have to fetch out of these maddening depths. No. It can't be that, of course. Those days were supposedly done, buried six feet under like many a faded memory. In any case though, it's more of a crevice now. A benign crack on the wall, if you will.
To fall into the well. To bid the bedazzled, a fleeting adieu. To seek, and in my blindness find inaccessible light.
To fall into the well. To bid the bedazzled, a fleeting adieu. To seek, and in my blindness find inaccessible light.
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