Dying Slowly

This is the third weekend that I slept over my sister and brother-in-law's house and I must say, my hand is sore. Their black cat, Buster, is a demon. I think he seriously a demon. I go to pet him and he freaks out and starts spazzing out at me, scratching the hell out of my hand. I pick him up and he punches me in the face with his paw, hissing loudly. Although when my sister goes to pick him up, he might only do that. For my brother-on-law, he loves him so therefore, no fights. I must say though, their cat has a Hitler mustache. Right underneath his nose is a little black mark that looks like a mustache similar to Hitler. Well, I have to say, that cat is as crazy as Hitler was. Anyway, I just love being at their apartment. Just the overall atmosphere of the place, with the cat nearby always trying to pounce on you to the yells and clashes of the pizza place downstairs, it just feels like a home to me. So, we have a lyric poem to write for English class for Wednesday and I plan on writing it on their house, just because I have a strong feeling about the place and my loved ones are there, including demon cat.

Sadly enough, my own cat, the orange one Pumpkin, is dying. I always said he was dying before (or at least I think I did) but this time, it's for real. He can hardly walk, you can practically see an outline of all of his organs and skeleton, and his eyes have this look that'll kill your heart if you look into them long enough. It seems as if he's 90-years-old and was a veteran of two wars. It's just sad. I wasn't here today to see him much because I just got home at eight from my sister's but when my mother called when I was my sister's apartment, she said that Pumpkin was lying in the corner of the computer room by the old side door all day. He did just come out a little while ago from that corner and walked into the kitchen. He's been sick since June, went to the vet multiple times, and was almost put to sleep once, but wasn't because his blood test scores were perfect. The vet claimed that he couldn't even make up blood test results they were that good. It's a mystery on how he got sick. Nobody knows why, although we cannot rule out cancer.

I've been getting back into the RPG Maker scheme of things again. For some reason I was bored Friday (or somewhere around there) and booted RPG Maker XP up after looking around my computer files. I actually started a story up, built some maps, and really got into the events. Although I will never master map design, scripts, events, variables, etc. because those things are way beyond me. Even the simple database got me confused in some parts of it. I've been reading around some forums about RPG Maker XP and realized how much I suck at normally simple programs. I don't care though. I just plan on sharing my game with friends.

I'm just going to lay back now and look around the internet because I'm just in that mood. I have school tomorrow and I don't even care, which is a very weird feeling after being worried all day and, well, everyday practically. I have that damn poem to write and only two days to write it because I was stupid and spent all day yesterday playing around with RPG Maker XP besides planning it or doing other homework so I could work on the poem today. But no...I had to go make an Xeron Lamian.

Have a good one.