LuixM9's Xanga

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 04:21:46 GMT

I've been in a few chess tournaments over the past 30 hours. On Friday, I drove to Tyler, Texas and met up for a chess event with a friend. There ended up actually only being four participants - three entrees and a house player. I won two out of three of the games, but I was off; I realize that I didn't take it that seriously [and that I had been up all day and driven 2.5 hours to get there] but most of my moves were regrettable immediately after making them. I also played disgracefully in the larger tournament event that was hosted today in Shreveport, Louisiana. I won my first match, but it was not a convincing exhibition of skill; the gentleman I had the honor of opposing simply didn't take advantage of the frailty in my play. The second match proved to me that I could in fact perform more poorly than the first.

I played white against a player from Texas, Mr. Harris [I had previously played him in the first tournament I entered in Shreveport back in September upon my arrival to Louisiana Tech.] I had just taken two weeks off from playing consistently before attempting to 'warm up' with a few games with Robert the day yesterday - I had arrived at this relatively larger tournament event having done nothing to prepare myself for the games mentally or by practicing. I should have been punished for the play I then exhibited, but alas, I survived a lost position to quickly struggle with another. After the third instance in the game where I should have been slaughtered, it transposed to draw... then to a lost position again, and then a draw, and at last I lodged my rook between his and my sixth rank passed pawn and Sir. Harris did so resign.

I was however successful in losing my third match of the tournament. This player I have beaten many times before, though I would not claim I surpass him. T. Beckham - the 'top dog' of the usual crowd of entrants. We trade licks in casual games and blitz play, and at the last tournament we drew our match, but this was not a day to actively claim to be at my best. I know what I normally play and what it might be that he might normally respond; it was then that I played a move in my opening of this game that I had never played before at any tournament OR ever against him. 1. c4. I knew upon drawing back my shaking hand that I may just be making a mistake; I do not know any of the lines or structures well enough to play the English. In a pit of sheer self-conscious weakness, I quickly corrected with the move, 2.d4 --> as if to say, "Oh, my mistake. Please though, don't punish me." Ugh - I was tired either way and in no way did I retain the physical energy to put all that much effort into the match. Long, long story summarized, I did lose.

Game four did not matter. It did, but it did not to me. It was as if I had resigned myself to a poor game before playing. I was quickly doubling in my fatigue and after so many hours... eh. Fredrick Karlson had lost to me in the last tournament. I recreated the formations and structures I had watched on a chess video the night before against his 1. d4 last time and actually won quite convincingly. He expressed to me how he had thoroughly reviewed our last game... I only know one response to d4, and as non-existent fate would have it, I again played black, and he again played d4. In my attempt to alter the exact lines I played last time, I made a horrible blunder... he took advantage of it and I played the remainder of the opening by throwing out pawns in hopes to waste his time with taking them all. It was clear that by the middle game I was playing simply to humor my opponent with a game; I would casually attempt to align my pieces on particular squares in dire hope that if for a second he allowed it to happen, I could manage a draw. A problem with his play was the lack of development. I formulated some counter-attack options as his own forces drew closer to my king. In the end, I childishly masked a rather large attack with a smaller one; he took my 'hung' rook after a series of checks by his queen. Had he calculated more thoroughly, he might have seen the mate-in-three from my blunder of a knight move just before he took my rook, but I suppose he assumed the game won and that rather than calculate, grabbing material was more important. It was unstoppable from that point. One move after another, I had a forced mate in every combination or variation of play with my queen, knight, and two bishops. I didn't believe it before I played it out in my head. I took that win to place second with three out of four wins in the tournament.

I should be ashamed, but I realize that I was not at my usual level of play. And so, I have motivation to never allow the fortune of my opponent missing my weaknesses to decide my tournament results.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 05:49:52 GMT

Keeps those things separate.

You cannot mingle these things and thoughts of life, two worlds apart as they are. You must not diminish positive association by delusion of any sense of priority or balance. You do not know me there; I cannot exist whilst you aim to submerge yourself in the nostalgia of that once-home. Vacation as though time is no more, or rather as it once may have been - no distinction required. Nothing is required of you there. Things that should not burden you even seem to weigh on your heart, but maybe it is that you leave that here as well? Where am I even, left behind in the stillness of this place that is only to be retreated from. I too return to my nest of homelier happenings and vehemently express my sorrow that I have done the same. Such priority we have to hold these things apart; to keep such articulation about their very depiction. Such priority does not seem to exist in the analysis of more than what simply may seem to be of pertinence.

We are to return to our prison of self-proclamation and leave behind the venues of our adolescence.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 06:31:39 GMT

They exist awkwardly among others even of familiar roots. They are as fake as they are anything else, and they believe this is what makes them real. They are posing to be as others who pose just as they do, and know nothing of aspirations above the same plateau on which they [all] stand. This primitive world of false existence becomes reality the more they each want it to be. It is a world of unknowing external validation; of unremitting critique. They are real to one another and believe that their experience is indicative of grandeur. Because they exist in a lucid and depressed fabrication of any world outside of their own, to exploit this in altering reality by means of drugs merely reinforces the notions that make their system of logic seemingly legitimate.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 02:31:07 GMT

Toliver: 20:05:00

I suppose it was my own doing: I was aware that I was the only individual sitting at a table alone, but when he approached me, I checked again to make certain.

"How's it going, man?" He started. No real way for me to gauge how quickly this situation could have gone sower in so many ways. For some reason, my initial inclination was the presumption that he was most likely a member of some religious group fulfilling some quota or compulsion to speak to weary and unsuspecting individuals about the suspected reasoning of his internal drive to do so. I quickly looked around my table again to make sure I had nothing atop it to confirm the potential idea that I would be an ideal candidate for witnessing practice or that may have in some way provoked and/or challenged the foundation of said the/ideology. But from the way he continued to approach me, I concluded this was not the case. He continued, but his voice more quietly, "How'd you like to earn a little extra income while you're in college."

No name-tag. No marked apparel with familiar symbols or slogans. There was no way I could have known how long he might have stood across the room in search of the best target to approach. Possibly following some basis of principle such as an analysis of one's clothing, personal belongings in plain sight, or even that a lone one is statistically more susceptible to advertisement than a group; possibly some internal algorithmic logic he himself may have been unaware of. Either way, I see no realistic way for me not to have already made up my mind that I was not going to allow him to waste any more time than it would really require for me to get rid of him. I finished my chess game and logged off of ICC.

"Not interested." I said, though relatively quietly.

"What's that?" - He hadn't heard me.

"What are you representing?" I said; I had quickly reconsidered my stand. Not to mention this was actually quite a brilliant opportunity to practice my 'pretense-of-interest' facade - I could always use rehearsal.

I was seated, but from his stand to my side, 5' 10" in height is an estimation that I would consider nearly approximate. Slim waisted and veined arms; Short, spiked hair and a goatee that most likely required three weeks of his time to form. Light-toned polo with an unrecognizable logo atop his left Pectoralis major. And to note, the faint, yet recognizable tell of an amateur's insecurity mixed delicately with the masculine aroma of hollow confidence he sprays on before going out each day. But no, I had decided to give him a moment of my time - one among many which may have otherwise gone unproductively allocated.

Perhaps I was too quick to judge this individual's intentions; perhaps I am often too quick to conclude things based on limited perception. I adjusted my hat. I let free the mouse in my right hand [having selected the system clock at the bottom, right-hand corner of my laptop's display], leaned back and faced my acquaintance. I am, though, fairly accustomed to the criteria of facial expression that I may willingly indicate that one may press onward with one's presentation with my attention: I indicated this at that time. Yes, I had successfully prepared myself entirely for this venture of knowledge; yes, I had made the correct decision to hear him out. I was content with the circumstances.

"I want to tell you about this new kind of energy drink."

I felt as though my senses had betrayed me. I shan't again disregard my initial thoughts so easily. I allowed him to speak for ten seconds short of three minutes, including a request for possible brochures, information packets or business card. I humored another human being yet again with my attention. He briefly explained that there was an informational meeting in the library and that he wanted to extend his personal invitation to me for this event [which was open to all students.] This person never asked my name; he never introduced himself prior to representing his material or offered the traditional, cultural or formal courtesy of extending his hand as he first approached my table. The meeting began at 20:30.

I write this now: Tuesday, the third of November, 2009 Anno Domini; 20:31.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 02:30:21 GMT

One seems to wear hats frequently as of late; more often recently than any given particular period of time previously. It is more specifically in fact the same hat under usual circumstances, though it is not unheard of that one may occasionally partake in the whimsical selection of the alternative. What is this seemingly developed enjoyment of said article of apparel? What is this new and captivating addiction to informality and conformity to ostensibly adolescent displays of fashionable taste or adornments? Can the sun simply be in one's eyes more often lately than in years of prior exposure? No.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 00:22:20 GMT

I had decided to dismiss you; the thought of you. But here I am and you are, and I stare across at you; to you. It seems that I have not dismissed my thought. My thought is deniable. I am weak in days when I may be stronger. I have longed in days when I could have less. I do so long, but in what desire do I wish for desire, and in what place do I dismiss my desire to long no longer for your desires to be mine also? Deceive me. By what merit I do owe and what place am I yet that outside of time thought alone would remain with me. You are, to me, desirous. Life cannot be but a desire to be desired.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 03:43:26 GMT

Is it enough to just be more accurate? Is there a requirement of personal satisfaction dependent on an outcome or result of situational pressure? I'd suppose there is no requirement. The idea of [or limit to] personal satisfaction is possibly one of the more [or only] potentially controlled variables in a stress-level equation; an otherwise disagreeable analysis. How much satisfaction one undertakes, or for what reason, can be solely dependent on the individual more so than the specific occasion or environment. Two can oppose and feel equally [or falsely] satisfied.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 05:25:15 GMT

To what judge am I to appeal? Of passionless profession and may one aim to plea for strength but to imagine effortless breath in one's presence. Might one resist a longing for any sort of breath for life alone in short of one's dire and deserving grace alike? - magnificent life fills one's lung if only to cheapen it by thoughts of you. One's hand heeds no warning if only to carry the dragging rest of sanity alike along a road to be neither traveled nor wept for in such longing. Of adequate conclusion to one's own thought's worth, or by lack of the sort, any resolute, definite shape in darkness belonging to the mistress is her's to own. If by any deception one may consider, that in regards to one's soul, another might weep for something more earning for one's belief? And caution to be noted with or without consent of one's owner may question one's imagination, if comparable to that of the breath to be taken in one's lone presence; to be stolen when not. For my breath is stolen by your beauty and when not, I will not take it back.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Sat, 15 Aug 2009 04:58:55 GMT

I've been looking over a number of hardware combination, but all of my conclusions lead me to believe the i7 build isn't worth my money just yet. I don't have the same leisure of a budget in this build as I did in 2007 for my previous box, but I could just as easily recreate it for a fraction of the price now [obviously]. Looking at the lower i7, it seems that for the money, the performance is comparable; the bottom two models are just about worth the price tag. Once you hit the 3.33ghz, it spikes in cost, and I cannot find any particular reason for the additional $400+ that would make it worth it for me to budget that chip in my newegg shopping cart.

But alas, () the bottom of the i7 food chain itself is affordable, but the truth would be that the required accessories too are more costly. Newer chipset = newer board [costs] = higher ram requirements [ddr3] and that just isn't where I need it to be on the budget-scale at the moment. With the Wolfdale 8500 I'll still go ddr2, i'll probably still go something along the lines of the ASUS P45 line mb, and I'll have money that I don't need to spend... not getting spent. It's so difficult at times to do the right thing when the wrong thing is ostensibly the more temporarily gratifying decision.

I need to pick up a new TV tuner; during the hardware swap/sale of my last box, it was misplaced. I am not simply averting blame for this incident; I was not at fault. I enjoyed my previous model, but I believe that may be because I did not know all of my options. Since I'm wrapped up in getting an entirely new one, I'm going with a dual tuner: it can record one channel while watching another, or record two simultaneously. I don't like the remote that is packaged with it and I do have another one already, so if anyone would like a new media center remote when it comes in, let me know. Onward.

I've got to select the mother board. I have one in mind, but even in on paper there are complications. As I said, I'll run with the P45 line again, but an upgrade from the last one. Okay, so my sights are set on a P5Q "PREMIUM" [http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16813131326] but I'm reading these reviews and noticing a recurring difficulty. Users are having issues with limited hardware compatibility - I don't like the idea of running my choices by an ASUS produced list of approved hardware vendors, even though the vendors I normally purchase from are undoubtedly on it. Its just one more factor in purchasing a new item and it seems like we shouldn't have to deal with that restriction. Though, I'm going to look it over and see if I can do it without a lot of trouble and effort - I do so dislike trouble and effort.

Either way I go, I'm still looking at some ddr2 1066 or 1200. I'll go by a few of the normal vendors for my options, but that won't matter until the motherboard is taken care of; the speeds won't matter I guess due to the restriction of surpassing the CPU in the first place and that I won't stretch their limits in casual usage. It feels odd, though, speaking of such things when I know of greater components 'out there' - right next to them on the proverbial shelves of glory and slight and gradual price increments all the same, the greater hardware exists only to be dreamt of by those unworthy of their material costs. And, I suppose, things come and go on such shelves as they mean nothing truly.

Drive space. Depending on how I can cut the budget in other areas, I will invest some portion of this build fund to disk space. RAID most certainly, almost regardless of volume or speed, but this all remains to be seen.

It is late; I will resume this discussion with myself later.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Wed, 29 Jul 2009 04:13:51 GMT

One could wish to have only dreamt you, and what good would come of such things? I have no spirit apart from any game that might give me meaning, but while I cannot know any different, it would be most certainly saddening to live on thoughts of such hopefulness; of such sorrow. Might I never truly know pain, but only that such things long to meet me in my dreams. I wait for daylight alone; I lay awake.