Sai Somsphet

I love this game, except for the stealth… And survival… And being actively hunted skynet style… Ok I would love this game more if I liked those game aspects in the first place. But I still love it for the concept, design, and the whole general vibe of the game. What a great concept and game, i’m just not the target audience.

Wait what? I lived near there. As a kid…with no idea…

Although it does explain why a lot of the kids I met were racist…

Both like a pair of mittens.

You are literally claiming someone is projecting, while you yourself have nothing to indicate such things.

Also you are just copying and pasting the same response in defense of a troll. A specific troll that everyone easily recognizes now. You. You are the troll.

Rethink your life.

And milk was literally “that baby cow looks like its really enjoying that stuff…”

Just so you are aware, there are tons of active communities actively and currently maintaining live multiplayer servers for old games that had their official servers shut down. All through pirates.

Star wars galaxies and Monster Hunter Tri are two good examples. I haven’t checked galaxies in a while, but monster hunter tri just unlocked a multiplayer server that has been shut down for a decade.

If a fan community loves a game enough it’s still got an active server somewhere. Pirates are 100% bringing online features to their communities.

Also, I guess since you didn’t know, there are hundreds of video games that currently have multiplayer enabled despite no multiplayer options when the game was originally released. You are really underestimating the amount of effort random pirates will put into making a 30 year old game playable with online multiplayer. Games like Skyrim, famous for being single player, now have multiplayer options.

My general mood and demenur thanks for asking

I’ll admit, I was hoping this was about the software, but I assumed it was spinning blades.

My dad was given two years to live.

In his third year, he made an Elkhorn cane for me.

He died after four years of fighting.

No matter what, the hospital did everything medical science could do. At the time. Even now, due to his circumstances, he wouldnt have had much more time. If he took medical marijuana, MAYBE it could have bought him another two years. Maybe it would have made his last two years pain free. But that’s it. It was too far advanced by the time they found the cancer.

Maybe if it was found sooner, but he refused the proper treatments that would have found it sooner.

Maybe if medical science was more advanced, but the hospital he went to is still active and highly regarded as one of the most effective and trusted resources for cancer treatment. He got the best medical treatment possible at the time, and the doctors already pushed the treatments to their theoretical limits.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

But he did change. I never saw him get weaker or waste away. He always seemed so strong. He became kinder and in the end left me with only happy kind memories. I know he was still abusive when I was younger. But he looked at the time he had and decided he wanted to use those two years to be a better father. To give us memories of a man who wanted to be a better person.

When he survived that second year, we all assumed he was going to win. He didn’t. He knew he was still dying and so he spent every day as if he wasn’t going to survive. Made arrangements, spent time with us. Said goodbye in his own way. Found his peace. Everyone thought the Elkhorn cane was for him. I was the only one who helped him make it. When he died, the cane was his for only about half a year. Maybe a year and a half at most. It’s been almost two decades since then.

I still see it as his cane. The oils from my hands have worn parts to a shine. My own hands have smoothed the Elkhorn down. It has been mine for decades,for years longer then it has ever been his.

But this thing? This cane? My father made it for me. He left symbols on it. Little marks that no one else would have noticed. It connects me to him, and through him, to my tribe. It’s his cane but it’s mine. It’s a show of his determination to be a better father. Running out of time, but still trying to be a better father then he was the day before. His final message to me about this cane, was “this is not a weapon.”

His final lessons, were to be better. Kinder. He didn’t have time to teach me everything. So he had to leave it to little memories, little details, little reminders. So that even in death, he could lead by example and be an example he wanted me to learn from and follow.

The cane long ago became mine by right. It’s still his by connection.

Maybe medical science could eventually have given him more life. Maybe.

I can’t live my life based off of a maybe though. It was out of our hands. He fought for every day. He died as a better person, then he was when he was first diagnosed. And that’s enough sometimes. Sometimes it’s better then a maybe.

Maybe sometimes I just miss my dad.