00:00
00:00
View Profile Cyberdevil
Bamboo Shoots!

OPEN FOR COMMISSIONS!


30, Male

Poet/Designer/Etc

ACCOMPLISHED

Sweden

Joined on 1/17/04

Level:
60
Exp Points:
42,148 / 100,000
Exp Rank:
112
Vote Power:
10.01 votes
Rank:
Sup. Commander
Global Rank:
15
Blams:
20,899
Saves:
104,735
B/P Bonus:
60%
Whistle:
Deity
Trophies:
12
Medals:
8,559
Supporter:
6y 6m 29d
Gear:
11

Happy Pixel Day!

Posted by Cyberdevil - January 23rd, 2019


PLAY THA GAME

I made a little game this year. Code by @Leon-ex. And here's some art. From the game. By me.

Title is pretty much self-explenatory huh? Have a good one y'all! Happy Pixel Day!


Tags:

20

Comments (13)

Happy Pixel Day to you as well!

Happy Pixel Day SJ!

happy pixel day, mate!

Happy Pixel Day to you too good dude!

YO MAN. CHEER UP. GAMES OVER, WERE STILL BEST FRIENDS. OK? ITS DONE... THANKS MAN MY FRIEND.

sry for caps ;)

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON BUT IT'S ALL GOOD! THANK YOU!

Gone but not for Dorothy, Doris or Daisy. Nie is crazy enough to morris dance with Boris Johnson... even though he isn't even a lady. Maybe we've lost the plot... or not. Sad loss. Like Sala and his pilot crashing in the Channel as they were trying to cross. What the hell is this?! An episode of LOST?? "We have to go back!" To Losman's Lair, for an hair loss cure. Which is horror in itself as something this rare is impossible to discover its true whereabouts. Time travelling to a former period in order to find a miracle remedy. Not just to get back hair. Fuck that, time to play backgammon and eat a fat salmon sandwich... it's scant consolation, like being blind and trying to look at a whole constellation of stars, unable to participate in or start a conversation. That's Astronomy without the Autonomy, and one way to bottom out. Like me scraping barrels... you never know what will come out of my rotten mouth... fuck, I've forgotten now. My Mem is Sketch at best, as even at a stretch, I forgets what I says. Think too quick to stop in mid-thought and quit what I've ghost wrote, even if morally I have slit my own throat. ... this is what my ghost, wrote! But don't get distraught. This is nothing personal. As even cursing has a purpose. Explicit content guarantees a purchase... fuck being a wordsmith! Who cares if they feel offended or hurt? I was bullied relentlessly and was incredibly introverted. You do the best with what you work with. Now these fools sweat, as I open up my tool set and pop out these cruel letters. So if they can't get over it, they better sue. Nothing I say is spoonfed, but it's still medi-soup. So snowflakes, go take, two breaths and fuck off. There's no way that ol' Nietz will go woke. Except to provoke these soft cucks that won't know what hit 'em. No no... I'm kidding! I'm a kitten! There's no way I intend to give you all a damn good kicking. Too busy giving these chicken wings a damn good picking. Too distracted to be attracted, when I have already retracted my foreskin and busted in the back seat of a taxi. Risky, but I thought I'd chance it. Yeah...

Hey he could even Morrison dance like Swayze, while Jay Z plays beats with Chief Keith on bass, that'd be amazing. I don't know how to say what I say in such a cray stream though, where both wordplay and intention deserves venerable mention emotes. Brainstorming but my pain takes warming, preparing, not daring enough to let words storm into my letter box. Keeping thoughts in with these heavy locks. Clutter in my mind that I don't ready for any petty box. Fear saying things that give impressions when imp bastions are king vessels in hell, I've been hella thin dwelled, on ink and gobbling all in my way: like gollum goblins. Gall in my sloppy blockage. Soups with poop and rockets. Stoop and view some sockets contemplating shocking options. Do not seek the prophet but seek to be into first, something religious, like my mind if I am an introvert.

And I lost it at the Lost ending. Gotta stop spending time watching plots that flip flop like long walks. Kill it and don chalk. Skillets and bone matter while Foamy hones banter, and tells us truths in rants surprisingly astute and gathered. He used to be an idol but I think I won't stoop to Mathers, don't like what he blabbers about MGK and I, wonder what happened to Die Antwoord. Yeah...

Hooray! Happy Belated Pixel Day!

Thank you! :) You too!

Yaooooo

Plug-out, mend this fractured woe... don't let the anger grow. I declare the hamper open, another rampant, lambently woven, ocean of elaborate hokum. A labyrinth in the water. Drink in these happy moments. Coz when this is over... It's over for good. Lights out, like Daniel Williams at Whiteknights Lake. I wonder if one day, it will be my night to be taken? Or am I the chosen writer to summarise the Mason's mind games? Their ace in the hole? Or just an a. sole? Am I rebellious? Or do I play ball? Or am I a poster child for the mentally unstable? Maybe this was meant to be, my road. My sentence. A semblance of fraud. Endless it goes. The self-centredness grows and resentfulness shows through. From it, I present to you... Shows. From the dead I rose, like a red-eyed devil, venting in prose... expending my thoughts. At a time when I thought I was toast. Not coasting through life, just barely coping. Those hairy moments were scary, but you shouldn't bemoan them, as it's better to be open, than to stow those emotions and let nobody know when you feel down and broken. Tell some jokes, man. Get your ass on Joe Rogan. Smoke some weed. Stay asleep, don't get woke, man. DON'T get with the program! Go rogue, man! Fuck the political road and get back to being raw. Instead of being told what to do, like before. Be you. Be true to your roots, coz you know they'll lead to shoots. This is like a reboot of sorts. A reroute, to free truth, we need a movement between humans to see the improvement we need. Soon, man. Don't rue the opportunity to prove them all wrong, by doing what you knew you could do all along. Yeah...

That's some solid wisdom Nietz I'd better listen! I keep having these dreams and visions... then I go feed some pigeons. I do normal things when I really feel like being different. I feed my routines, like I'm just a machine of system prison. But what do you mean Joe Rogan? You better go like Hulk Hogan, man! Stand up and show those moles a slam, chop their toes so they can't stand, you, make them pop out of their holes and scram! Elbows, tendons, nose? No chance. Push to shove these crooked thugs to cricket games and book a rug and fly away cause norms don't apply when: reformed and alive. I think that's the idea. They don't want you to use your MIND. But you can't blind this one down I got the shine.

So woe the Earth, go pack Jody's purse with jodhburs and don the blinds, go and roam and ride and own the road like Bon and Clyde. Or whatever, like, sit up late and write? Whatever makes you smile a while and take your life... with a greater stride. My back acres miles. Yeah...

Happie Pixel Day, m8

You too good dude! :)

Sup

Heeey Seven! Still dealing with those fevers? Do you remember writing this? :P Hope you're doing alright though, all circumstances considered. Hope your niece starts seeing things in a different light too. Hope karma's a thing, that these trials make you stronger and good things come again. Gotta stay hopeful. Hope fuels. No gruels. Whole foods.

@SevenSeize @Cyberdevil I'm mostly just exhausted today, no fever
What's for breakfast?

Lunch, over 'ere. ;) Buckwheat porridge today though so it might as well be the former. Bout to follow up with some fried egg and a few sticks of celery. How bout you? At home today btw? Oh and good to hear all's clear.

Here Cyberdevil, I want you to see this. https://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/728774

Thanks, checking now!

Obviously, I have little to no courage about sending links here especially considering I got banned from reviewing for doing so in reviews, hehe.

Ah from ones you posted on my stuff earlier? That is kind of against review guidelines you know. :) On the point about how reviews need to be related to the submission. Otherwise it's not really a review.

No limits regarding what you can comment on here though!

The weigh to go. But how can you go if you're way too slow? Mistaken for a waiting sloth with debilitating growth, and nowhere to facilitate some hope. May as well make a loop in the rope, so it looks like a nought, then tie it to the roof from your throat, then jump a couple of steps till you croak. And that's all she wrote. Yeah...

The weight to go. Can't let go of that weight if you take it slow, better wait till lunch break then stake out something you can't even eat like unbaked cow take-out or: wait till cold. Cake out now.

Brexit's here though so we can just wait until those pounds drop. And concert season's coming, with hope and tropes and teapots! Just wait until the beat drops! I hope your tie's a thief knot! Though if you can't afford to spend, the knot might well be Gordion, but who are men to say we can't perform for friends? No need to pay for normal sense. Store some cents. Hoard your rent. Live out on the floor with tent, with starlight skies and storms that cleanse. Yeah...