Standstill

Yes, that's what happened to my farming. After getting it to 80, which has taken me quite some time, i have decided to take a break from farming. Still, i am proud to say that i had been rather motivated and focused on this skill all the way till lv 80, but now i need to take a little time off and concentrate on other skills. Anyway, i have been keeping myself rather busy with slayer lately, pushing it from 55 to 63, and i am now only a few thousand exp away from 64. I am intending to get that new combined slayer mask and getting myself some combat experience while completing the tasks. while typing this post, i am already on my way to 99 f2p combat, with roughly 20k defence exp to go. Getting to 100 f2p would probably require me 2 more strength levels, and 85 strength is sounding very appealing at this moment.

My results for my term 3 exams are out, and the signs aren't good. I am afraid i had been spending too much time on Runescape, and had been negligent about my studies. Maybe I'll be cutting down the time i am spending on Runescape. Just maybe, or I'll probably get my arse up from the chair and do some work while playing Runescape next time.

Sidetracking a bit, a have recently met a British player in Runescape, xx m3rk3d xx, who insulted me after finding out i was an Asian, and eventually dragged my country, Singapore into his onslaught of insulting remarks. He started asking me how it felt like being an Asian, and then moved on to question if Singapore had appropriate toilet systems, and if we had proper education. The most laughable fact is that he thinks that Singapore is an undeveloped, poor country, and kept insisting on that. Well, he can say what he wants, but his ignorance will be shown in every word he utters.

That night, i happened to see a poem about Racism on Sean Covey's " 7 Habits for Highly Effective Teens", and would like to share it with everyone reading this.

The Cold Within
James Patrick Kinney

Six humans trapped by happenstance
in black and bitter cold
Each possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
the first woman held hers back
For on the faces around the fire
She noticed one was black.

The next man looking 'cross the way
Saw one not of his church
And couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.

The logs held tight in death's stilled hands
Was proof of human sin,
They didn't die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.

Hmm found this poem quite meaningful. The last stanza especially push forwards the point that nothing good will come out of prejudice and discrimination.

Stuff achieved today : 77 defence, 99 f2p combat.