Disturbing Dream, Reset everything.

As promised here is my last post of the year. I'm glad to have it behind me too. It took alot of work but I've nearly undone all the mistakes and damage I brought upon myself. This next year is bright and filled with promise. Where as this year has been filled with suffering and misery, the next shall be filled with love and happiness. I am certain of it. It is my future to hold and I look forward to unraveling it and facing it's challenges head on. Tomorrow as a symbol of that I have invited a great number of people I've fought, wronged or disagreed with in the past to a big and hopefully fun party. It could be that I am a glutton for punishment.... lol.

I'm going to touch on a few things before I head to bed. One of them is religion. (Yes I see you all groaning.) A friend of mine asked me recently why I did not attend church on sunday. He seemed prepared to wrestle me down and convert me. So I did what I always do and told him the truth. I am in always in church.
A higher power created this earth. It is filled with his creation, creativity and his life. When I walk in darkness or in shadow I can feel the Tao around me. I feel it in the cold and in the warm. In the gentle touch of a companion of in the rough brush of an enemy. Energy and life surround us and the beauty of it is staggering.

I told him this. That the world was my church and to lock myself in a wooden box one day of the week would not further my appreciation of his work. I am certain that god wants his children to live full lives. Would you want your children to waste all of their time trying to appease you? Seriously? I would get bent out of shape and tell them to use their lives productively and in search of their own happiness, creativity and ambitions.

He sat for a second thinking of the right thing to say. The scripture... he began.
I cut him off rudely. I love words and the power that they can bring. But you will not find god in that book or any other. You can memorize as many lines as you want but it will not bring you a step closer. You can push your dogma on any helpless soul who wanders across your path. But you are not doing his work. He was taken back my sudden Tirade and tried to collect himself.

He is a smart man, and a devoted one but he could not find a response to my words. He asked me if I had read the scripture. I replied that I had. And that I had read the Tao Te Ching, The hebrew bible, The teachings of Buddha and Zhuangzi, Sikh and Hindu texts, two different translations of the bible and the Apocrypha. (I was slightly upset and wanted to one-up him. I'm human get over it; Although I have read all of them.)
"Why" he asked me? (He regained his composure at this point.)
"I wanted to find the truth." was my response.
"Did you"?
"I did"
"What is the truth then?"
"I can't tell you."
"Because you don't know?"
"Because I don't know how."
"How do you know it's the truth?"
"Because I feel it."
"What if thats how I feel."
"Then I respect that. Just don't try and convert me anymore."

After that the conversation turned to NWN2 mods and new rules for prestiege classes in 3.5.
No matter how hard people try and explain to me with words I cannot listen. Every person says the exact same empty words. When I close my eyes and feel the wind I can feel god or tao in it. I feel that hand of creation in the dirt and the air. I see it in the mountains and bright eyes of children. Every time I hear those words they come across as hollow to me. As if they live half a life because they are tied to a structure of belief that precludes god as a real father. I have been told that we cannot know god directly.. that is the reason for jesus and his church. But I refute that. I believe that not only can we know god directly we should know god directly.
A father wants nothing more then for his children to be happy.

Second topic. A strange dream.
Many of my dreams have come true. This kind of thing has bothered me for a long time. I've often that it was merely me making my dreams into reality. or me finding ways to make them come true. Moreoften my dreams are so vivid and the feeling so strong that I cannot help but commit them to paper. It's been some months since I have had a nightmare of any sort. I attribute alot of this to improved mental health and meditation. But last night I had one of those dreams that I fear is a omen for the future. It had energy within it that I cannot place and it defied my attempts at lucid dreaming. I was aware that my nightmare was real but I cannot awaken from it. My attempts to control it were also very limited.

I stood atop a high mountain filled with bright yellow flowers. Something here had made me very happy. I turned around I saw a well cut and maintained pine tree. Beneath it were people from my life. Some were their dream archtypes I remember before. The conflicted Assassin (Dwight), The Dark Maiden (Holley), The Frigid Maiden (Blackham), Nick (normal but looking pre-occupied), The gambler (Todd), The Druidess (Sollah), The Ghoul (Jenni) and many others whos faces I remember but names I cannot. Todd appeared to be himself mainly and Jenni was less undead then the last dream I had. They were all sitting, laughing and apparently having alot of fun. (Except Nick and Jenni who looked... lethargic.) I ran over to see them but the closer I ran towards them the farther they moved away from me. I chased and chased but I came no closer to them. I then realized that it was getting dark. I looked around for the sun but I couldn't see it. Yet their was still light around. This really unsettled me.

I couldn't find my friends and looked around for awhile. As it got darker and colder the flowers began to freeze, crack and bleed. Crimson blossomed on the petals and ran down the stems to the ground making it sticky and staining the ground red. I reached down and plucked one. IT was brittle as ice and shattered thusly. Blood soaked my hands as I held it.
I quickly threw the flower down and looked around more. It was now clearly nighttime. I could see a faded yellow moon directly above me. The light of the moon lit up the blood soaked fields with an eerie glow. I ran in what I think was north until I reached a jagged rocky ridge. I climbed it and looked around for my friends. I saw off in the distance a forest. Although it was not dark but lit with moonlight with dancing flitting shadows.

I wandererd into it almost on instinct. Off in the distance I could hear the baying of wolves. I saw some men in the forest and ducked to avoid them. Mountain Climbers by the looks of them. Each had a pick and robe in hand. Carefully moving through the forest I came across a seared circle in the woods. Something had burned a perfect and rather large clearing. In the middle I could see some of my companions. The Frigid maiden was walking towards someone I did not recognize right away. When I stepped closer I realized it was a demon. I could sense the evil radiate off of him the closer I came. But she did not slow her pace and walked right into his arms. I can feel cold wet snow starting to fall. Behind me I see my footsteps are marked with blood from the flowers. The blood glows slightly in the moonlight just as it had in the fields.

The others do not seem concerned about the demon. They sit contently speaking to each other and looking about the eerie (but beautiful) forest. The Assassin and his swords are near me. I point to the demon and ask if we should attack it. He shoulders and goes back to his conversation. The demon looks directly at me, his wings unfurl slightly and point toward me.
If he said something I could not understand it. I tried to draw my sword from my back but it wasn't there.

The Dark Maiden walks over to me and whispers into my ear. I don't understand the words.
Demon! Beast! Take your hands off of her I scream.
Instead she clings tightly to him, I feel at once jealousy and pain which erode my spirit slightly.
A few scattered memories come back to me, I realize now that the others have gathered around me or him. All speak in whispers and hushed tones. Nick asks me a question I can't remember now. I think I told him yes.

Time hung for a moment, like we lived inside a picture for a hundred years waiting for the ink to fade and our movement become free. The snow burns as it hits my skin.
In the distance I hear a river unthawing and remember my blades.

Ragining River is the name of my sword, in my mind it is an azure Katana. Balanced for my weight and height it fits into my hands perfectly becoming like another arm to me.
I flick my arms (as I trained myself) and draw the katana with a single smooth flowing motion. Beside me the conflicted assassin draws both his swords. However instead of a sword of dark and a sword of light he has two swords of light. The demon and I circle for a moment. The Icy maiden thrown aside and crying.

The Assassin moves around the demon trying to flank it. I step backwards trying to lure him into a tactical trap. The demon reads my eyes and soul. Instead he steps backwards and slashes on of the people huddled to him apart. I hear a cry of anguish but I dare not look down to see whom he cut. He starts to pan right towards more idle victims. Thinking of protecting them I charge forward and slash wildly. Without so much as blinking the demon parries with his arm and throws me backwards. I narrowly avoid stabbing myself as I land.

The assassin took advantage of this lapse and charged forward slashing over and over into the demons back. If it hurt the demon showed no sign. It merely turned and with a sudden sweep of his arm broke both swords. Stunned the assassin stepped backwards and tried regain his momentum. I felt terror from this being and started to run away. I ran past the trees soaked in moonlight. Past the clinging hands of my comrades and strait into that blood soaked field. The flowers were huge now and bleeding freely like foundations. The grass was slick with blood and I struggled to stand at first. Behind me the demon and assassin were fighting. I heard the shrill cry of pain as he was wounded over and over again. Staggering towards me I saw twisted black scars across his face and body. He fell without ceremoney face first into the slick of blood. Behind him the demon was walking towards me at a modest clip.

I ran farther and farther into the fields occasionally slipping on the blood and covering myself further. After a few moments I felt something reach around my legs and hold me fast. The trees roots had ensnared me. I hacked at it and blood began to spray out of it. Soon another and another grasped at me. I cut them all down and pushed myself up. The dark maiden was in front of me fighting the demon evenly. She held a jagged shard of nothing. It cut the demons skin like a hot knife cuts butter. The demon was apparently taken back and fought more aggresively throwing itself at her shadowy form over and over again.

I felt a fear that crippled me in my heart. The blood now covered me and I sought to stand despite it. I could barely hold onto Raging River and the Dark Maiden started to falter in her defense. Finally I found a foothold and launched myself toward the demon. With all my might I put my sword before me and flew strait into him. I missed somehow and ended up sprawled on the slope of the field. The dark maiden disappeared somehow and the demon turned back towards me. Leaving behind the heavy and slippery sword I run back into the forest.
I see everyone there wounded or crying. Jenni appears sick (however the undead look sick) and Nick seems out of it.

The demon is gone and the Icy Maiden is alive but injured. In defending her I put myself at risk and did nothing to actually aid her. Somewhere in the forest I could sense it was still awake, alive and searching.

Odd dream? yes I think so too. It's very rare that anything demonic appears in my dreams. Generally I am producted from their visit and feel only powers I allow in. This had the feel of a real and dangerous being somewhere close to my spiritual center. When I awake I checked myself over but found no obvious signs of taint or manifestation. I felt far off that something dark was watching me and waiting for me to move. Needless to say it's bothered me all day.

Despite the disturbing contents of this dream (I like the happy ones more) I am still prepared to make this year count for something. To find my strength and push my limits farther then I ever have before. Goodnight and happy new years.

Fear, Hope and a year bygone..

2006 was a fantastically shitty year for me. No really. That bad. Maybe the worst in my life.
All pretense stripped away I can look at it from a new perspective. It can't get worse.
People have told me that with the state of the world the way it is they aren't sure they can ever be happy. They resist having children or making plans. Fear of the future motivates them.
Everyone I know has suffered in this last year, some have even died. And they speak more and more of the pain and uncertainty of the future. They live each year exactly as they did the last and repeat each of the mistakes. That is the very ideal of crazy to do the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. They lock themselves into a cycle of work and broken relationships.

I do not fear the uncertainty of the future anymore. I know that simple statement sounds full of bluster and unrealistic, and perhaps it is unrealistic but hear me out.
We are afraid because we cannot control the future, the future does not exist yet. I can still change it, the past is the past forever and there is nothing I can do about it. But the future I can master... I can conquer it still.
The world is filled with chaos, death and pain. I will not lie. I have faced insanity and death and they have taught me to have a new and more full understand of sanity and life. Too many good people have resigned themselves to "stay the course" with their lives. Fear once more has won.
Without ever trying to change the world so many have given up completely on it. They lament about the status of their lives and yet do nothing to change. The cycle repeats until by chance or design it is broken. I do not live by fear or guilt or pity. I reject those phantoms without substance. I accept instead hope, determination and respect. Either side can effect change and move the world... but which would you rather have?

I speak of a single life and the status of the world as if they are one thing. Really I think that is true. From a distance mankind is a human entity and the health of that entity would be much greater if everyone cared about those around them. Technology has brought us closer together then ever before; yet it can be used as a weapon, a tool of deception or means to a darker end.
A single life has an incredible effect on the entire world, if raised with love a child can move on to do anything. The world lives or dies by each new generation... and a generation raised in fear will balk at the tasks before us.

I'm leaving this year behind. All the baggage, fear, unhappiness, anger, pain and everything else.
I want to feel hope and I just don't think that I can feel both fear and hope at once. Whatever it takes to change this world I am ready to do it whatever the personal cost; even my life is a cheap price to change the world. I imagine however that I am not the first to think that, I should instead live for my ideal. Live for that hope in our future and in the future of our children.

When this year ends I will raise a class of Sake to my closest friends and toast this year goodbye. I will remember the lessons I have learned, lick the wounds I have suffered and move on. Like the Tao I hold so dearly I must be prepared to change and move on. I have alot of friendships still left to fix and that will be at the top of my agenda before (if) I go to Ohio.
Goodnight everyone. I'll post once more before new years eve a list of reflections and other misc things that didn't fit the tone of this post.

Vikings, Archtypes and Influences.

Been awhile since I've put anything up. I'd like to say I've been busy with my varying projects but thats just not true. Most of my time lately has been directed toward my family or recovering from one of the nasty bugs floating around. Car is still broken but I now know what's wrong with it(Finally). The compiling of my sourcebook has barely moved, my second blog is barren, I have taken opportunities to practice my writing but none of those experiments merit any space here and lastly I've played a fair amount of Stronghold 2/Tactics Ogre.

Norse mythology has long been used as a basis for fantasy. Long standing rumor is Tolkien borrowed heavily from it; even the one ring is said to be borrowed from the legendary Andvarinaut. Ever since playing Valkyrie Profile I've paid more attention to nordic trends in fantasy and I saw plenty in both games I've been playing recently. I've been thinking about how mythology (Most notable being Norse) should fit into it, I'm not a big fan of using names directly from mythology... I prefer making my characters from scratch using an archtype or perhaps even inverting an archtype that exists in history. Creating new archtypes is ideal but requires a tremendous amount of work and creative insight... not to mention a deep understand of the cultural framework you are working inside. I could make a new thor but that doesn't mean that he would fit the culture of thor perfectly. In fact it might seem clumsy and amateur if I were to create a new Thor.

A few months ago during the rewrite of the gods I came up with Sorrent the Ice Lord.
Not particularly nordic sounding but I had some good concepts to play with. In also covered some needed holes in the origins of certain races in my setting. (Dwarves mostly...) It also gave me a cultural framework for northern barbarians; who until this point had been severely lacking in culture. Sorrent himself was a pretty basic Ice Giant warlord god. Everything about his personality can be found in that sentence. A good lesser deity perhaps but not something worthy of what I need. No I need a rival to Thor and Odin. I need a deity that has ballads sung in his honor... something that invokes the heroic norse ideal.

Playing off established archtypes is good move for alot of reasons. A. It's easier to visualize for both reader and writer. B. It requires less backstory/explanining when you take an ancient culture and reuse it. I already have to describe and explain new cultures and races and taking some off the reader/players plate is alot of help. D. The Nordic mythology fits perfectly into a setting based on the conflict between creation and destruction. So perfectly in fact that when I toyed with the idea of making a new culture for the northern tribes it ended up like a bastard child of the eskimos and the norse. It's hard to improve on something that fits so well.

Originally when I started this setting (14 years ago give or take) I had a very limited scope of both imagination and knowledge. I was creative but because the intake of ideas was so limited (Mostly by poverty and social isolation) that the output of ideas was equally narrow. The result was a basic D&D knockoff setting (Which is ironic because I hadn't yet played D&D). I was however a prolific reader of poorly written TSR/Wizards fantasy series (Mostly famously dragonlance which actually got better.) and much better fiction (Terry Brooks novels). By reading them I devloped a strong sense of the fantasy "archtypes". The Noble Warrior (Sturm Brightblade/Caramon), The Token Dwarf (Flint... poor Flint), The mascot/comic relief (Tas), The tormented soul (Raistlin/Tanis/Wil Ohmsford) and even the Naive female royalty (Laurana, Amberle). I didn't however identify with them much. I understood them but found them to be extremely patronizing and overly simplified. (Except Raistlin... but thats a different bag all together)
I vowed to avoid using such simple and uninteresting archtypes in my own writing/design.

Instead my archtypes are rooted in psychology and history. Occasionally I play off a traditional fantasy archtype. For example: Springer the Kobold isn't a great fighter. He's small and aside from being a genius with mechanical devices (Mainly traps) he's not very smart or charismatic. He is however funny, honest, loyal and serious often. In some ways you can compare him to Tasslehoff Burrfoot. But Springer doesn't have the (Obnoxious) kender immunity to fear. Springer goes to fight alongside his friends because he loves them and wants to protect them. Tas feels no fear it's not hard for him to risk his life. The archtypes are not copies but rather guidelines (Which I frequently break anyway), all writers use them rather they do so intentionally or not. It plays off our natural instinct to judge and to catagorize things.
This itself could be a lengthy topic of discussion but I need to return back to the problem of Nordic archtypes.

In creating a Norse sub-setting without using the pre-existing gods I am taking a number of risks and doing something that quite honestly could be out of my reach as a writer/designer right now. Yet it is what the setting calls for. I could leave this entire corner of my world alone and nobody would notice (Thats what I've doing for 14 years anyway); But that would be denying an important (and interesting) new viewpoint and set of ideals to my world.
My conclusion?

Cheap knockoff gods (Like a ripoff Thor/Odin) are no good, Cheap original gods (Like Sorrent) are ok for lesser deities (Who nobody cares about)... I can use an existing archtype or one of my own (Crafted from my knowledge of psychology, a secret weapon in the world of stale-generic fantasy) but it has to fit into both the original nordic culture and my settings unusual history and power structure. Ultimately I think that it is the last and perhaps best option I will take: To merge the nordic culture with something else. A fusion of idealology.
The Vikings invaded England and their culture changed drastically. If the vikings invade another Drakkorian society what would happen? If they invade a society that relies on machines you could have technology wielding barbarians(Or technology fearing). Or if they invade an oriental society. The concept of honor and discipline from the subjegated would change the direction of their culture dramatically. What about a viking culture that is exagerated in some area? More tribal and more pagen then before... a viking society that rejects gods and focuses on spirits or totems.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't a diehard perfectionist.
Goodnight everyone.

Lies, damn lies and statistics

Before I get on to my musing I'm going to say a few words.

Anyone who knows me also knows that I take my beliefs seriously. I examine them constantly and fight for them even more fiercely. I've come to believe that the war being waged against freedom of personal expression, privacy and civil liberties is more dire then I thought before.
When the announcement is made this next year I'm going to move back east and work for Barack Obama for president. I've thought and considered it for a long time and I feel that in a state as red as Utah I can't change a single mind. But in a place like Ohio or Florida I could change the entire election (in theory)by changing a few minds. I'll be alone and chances are I won't know many people but I feel it's the right thing to do. If Barack doesn't win the nomination I don't know if I'll go help anyone else or not. Obama is the man to fix the direction in our country and if pounding in a few lawn signs or answering a few phones will help put him there it's a small price to pay. Details are forthcoming as plans and information is confirmed.

Todays musing is brought to you by the band VAST and Mark Twain. The product of his unholy union is... well read and find out.

Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.
-Mark Twain

Conventional wisdom is honesty is the best policy, but I'm finding in modern society the truth is more elusive then ever before. Oftentimes even the speaker does not know the truth. The listener does not know the truth and each who speak after them are just as confused as to the truth.
"spin" has been around for thousands of years. Kings and warlords weren't squishmish about putting the right spin on a story to bring themselves glory or capital. The famous Jedi Obi Wan said that the truth is a matter of point of view. He spun the death of Anakin Skywalker as murder by Darth Vadar and this tempered Luke's resolve to defeat Vadar and restore the Jedi.

Is that use of spin justified? Is a subtle manipulation of the facts justified if it leads to good? The truth is rarely well received. I've told people how I felt and had them attack and revile me. Yet a simple lie turns them into a staunch ally. If you tell people what they want to hear they will accept it rather it is the truth or not. If the truth is feared or unwelcome you will be met with anger and found suspect. Of all moral problems this one is most severe to me. To deceive for personal gain is wrong... but what about to deceive for the gain or benefit of others?

I lie in battle or contest often, it's called misdirection or feinting. I have no qualms with it because it's part of how things are done. It's a tactical manuver and not a moral dilemma. Treating life as a game and making tactical choices would make me vastly more successful in every area... but is that the kind of person I want to be? Could I handle how people would come to treat and feel about me? and more importantly could I feel good about myself treating and thinking of people in such a way? I don't think that I could and moreover I think my actions would change who I am until I did not care any longer.

I've come to believe that in order to effect real change you have to be honest with yourself. If you lie to yourself then you should be prepared to the consquences of that. You will grow twisted and your growth different from intended. In love I would prefer the brutal honesty to the spin and lies. In dealing with my rivals or enemies I don't see a problem with spin. Perhaps a boundry between my social and professional life is what I need. For my friends the honest truth and for my enemies a maze of lies and illusions. Then again I've long maintained that an open book with no secrets is harder to attack then one that is hidden from sight.

Spin and white lies will not slide my soul into a path of evil... but it doesn't seem like the right choice still. I think like all others I am forced to battle with question eternally and case by case. If my answers were uniform then I would be predictable and inhuman. I am not special or evolved beyond other humans. Occasionally I will deceive for my own personal gain or for the gain of others. That omission alone is an action of honesty to be met with scruitiny. Why would I tell the truth about my willingness to lie unless I wanted people to know I was capable of it?

However the end all of this arguement is simple to anyone who knows me. I am a terrible liar.
If the world counted on my ability to deceive I would advise hasty goodbyes to your loved ones.

Goodnight, truth be with you.

Syndrome and Isolation

Aspergers Syndrome occupies a spot among the most undiagnosed and socially pervasive disorders in psychology. The news it's received recently had me thinking about it today. But before I share any commentary on it I should shed some light on the basics. If my details are a bit off I am sorry as this is coming from my rather poor memory.

Aspergers is a highly functional form of autism that effects the patients abilities to interact socially. It's most commonly found in males but recent studies show it may be more common in females then first thought; females who are naturally shy tend to be harder to diagnose. Aside from the social awkwardness it has few other side effects. The patients are more often then not fully functional in terms of logic and problem solving and other areas that autistic people suffer from. Aspergers patients have trouble reading the body and voice signals of others, they are socially and emotionally detached from others and have a difficult time forming lasting relationships. It's also commonly noted that Aspergers patients have a lack of "spiritual" feeling as well. Social problems are not always apparent and often mis-diagnosed leading to a host of other problems such as depression (even to the point of cutting or self-mutilation), extreme isolation (which leads to making the situation worse), or anti-social (perhaps even criminal) behavior.

I was thinking about it today and my own isolation lately. I've never had problems reading the emotional or physical cues of others... In fact it's something I've become very skilled in. As common as it's projected (in new theoretical research... Take it with a grain of salt) I could know someone with this disease and not even realize it. I can't imagine being born without the ability to read others feelings. So much of our life is interconnected and it would be like making the web of life one way; taking away that connectivity doesn't make a person any less human. But I have to wonder what kind of effect it would have on the psyche. Humans are social creatures and removing or mitigating that social aspect is like losing a vital emotional limb.

My own anti-social tendencies are defensive in nature. When I'm hurt or confused I isolate myself... In a way I am giving away the advantages of a social networtk. Not all defensive reactions are good and I think in this case it could be extremely bad for me. It's a common enough defense mechanism but how effective is isolation compared to community? It helps in avoiding hurt but would the healing effect of friends and family outweigh that? I have to wonder if those Aspergers patients would hold me in contempt for intentionally/reflexively isolating myself when I am (in theory) fully capable of being a social person.

All these things put my own problems in a different light. It reminds me of a saying: Ships in a harbor are safe... But that's not what ships are made for.
My goals sit unaccomplished because the social aspect of my life is in extreme atrophy. I am sick because of my own choices. The isolation was helpful (and one could argue essential) to my repairing myself but now the need has passed it's holding me down.
This reminds me of another quote. I think to do this one justice I will have to copy and paste it.

Man never reasons so much and becomes so introspective as when he suffers, since he is anxious to get at the cause of his sufferings.
-Luigi Pirandello

There you have it. Wise words from a truly gifted Italian writer. (Albeit quite an emo one)
Consider everything, reject the impossible and embrace the choices that lead you to happiness. (not a quote from anyone, just a random thought of mine) Even if those considerations require me to open up to new (and old) people. This is a theme I need to consider more in the future.

Upgrade

Following the tragic death of my computer I found myself upgrading for the first time in years. The process of shifting and sorting my varied files into order is bringing up alot of buried feelings. I honestly thought alot of this stuff was lost. Old Dos games, pictures I thought destroyed/lost, music I haven't listened to since highschool, AIM logs, half-written stories, old Dungeons and Dragons adventures and absolutely ancient diary entries.

I wish I could upgrade as easily as my computer, pop in some ram and Shaaazam! Faster.
It isn't like that however, humans upgrade emotionally, physically and even spiritually over time and in increments. Trying to force it all at once is a foolish hope. I know I'm contridicting myself right now but I was wrong earlier. Sudden change is less sudden then it appears. (Which I have covered before) I could certainly use an emotional firewall or memory upgrade but even if such things were possible they would come with time and effort. My mantra used to be investment in self is the only thing you can count on. I was alot tougher and smarter back then. But knowing that I had that shows me that I can have it again, it can be recovered, re-examined and reinstalled.

The hardest part of unearthing 5 years of memories is the temptation to delve into them. To live in the fantasy of the past. Well; thats just what the past is: Fantasy. It doesn't exist anymore and whats more human memory is extremely mutable. It changes over time (Well documented by the psychologist Piaget and others) and adjusts itself to emotional conditions. A distant & failed love seems brighter when your lonely or unhappy for example. Without some kind of external memory such as a diary or log your likely to have incorrect memories of the past. Then again I peddle in fiction so I shouldn't be concerned with keeping perfect logs of my life, if the details are fudged it only proves I'm still human.

My memories of highschool are universally happy while my memories of Jr High are universally unhappy. I was a happier person in highschool but I don't think the actual difference was as pronounced as I feel it now. The best part of all is false and modified memories are eternal until disproven. I think people with happy dispositions tend to paint their memories alittle brighter whereas "McEmopants" might paint everything as darker and more depressing then it really should be. I tend to review things that have happened to me and that I've done frequently. I think this gives me a more logical view of myself; but by no means more accurate.

"The unexamined life is not worth much" -Socrates

So very cold inside.

I look back at the last two years and I'm just struck with amazement over how different I've become. I feel like this trial has increased my potential while at the same time dragging me down into the sewers and beating the shit out of me.
I'm tired. It's not the cold thats been passing around (Which doesn't help). It's that I am tired of fighting inside myself. I'm tired of being all torn up inside.
I went from being the person who helped others to the person who needed help most of all; I have come to appreciate the shift in perspective... but what I really want is to be me again. I want to reach out and fullfill my potential again and look to the future instead of wallowing in my past.

I've been running and running afraid to face anything.
That changes now. Right as I type these words to you.
Change that I have fostered in myself is too slow. I do in increments what I should do with a force of will.

I have felt trapped in this last year. Trapped in a life not of my creation. In a world that I stumbled along, that instead of embracing me kept me around for pity and memory. I wanted to get angry, it's been built up inside me for so long and now it's finally come to forefront. Burning anger. Boiling emotion.
If your sick of my exposition let me switch gears for you.

Cold does not foster the change I am looking for. Emotions obey the same universal laws as everything else. Anger, passion and fire. It goes beyond simple metaphor and becomes something primal about creation itself. Love is capable of changing someone, passion is capable of changing someone and so is cold.
But cold doesn't make you into a passionate person, it doesn't burn away the impure and leave the pure and the most desired. Cold locks things in place and keeps them from being natural. It kills the lively and preserves that which is already dead. In people the cold makes for isolation, ignorance, bigotry and close mindedness. It's no wonder that such people are called "frigid" or "cold hearted".

Yes I hurt people with my words and my thoughts earlier, but I hurt myself saying them. I hurt after I wrote them and as I write this I hurt with the memory of it. Yet I do not regret it. I had to torch the ice around my heart and if the only fuel I had was anger then so be it. It does not burn as clean or long as a heart filled with the passion of love, or the warmth of friendship. But it does burn brightly and intensely. No more running and certainly no more wasting time when I should moving ahead with all speed.

I burn away the shackles to my past, the grudges so ill-conceived and the pain of memory. I may writhe in fire but I will finally be free.
Enough metaphors. I'm going to bed.

Nobody likes tortured artists

Many writers were highly productive in times of great pain or strife. The japanese writer Dazai Osamu or his american peer Hemmingway come to mind. Of course both of them gave up and killed themselves which makes them poor role models overall. The tortured, exiled, outcasted and forsaken are known for creating a large body of work; most of that work is hollow. It lacks the vitality of life that so many other authors can capture. For every pain in my heart I feel as those lonely dejected men did: That life is cruel and unfair, that I am destined never to improve or be acknowledged. All this does is disconnect me from the flow of life.

It's easy to remove yourself from society. To rail against it from afar. This is a gross misuse of words. We should not be sheep, nor should we be fools. Railing from afar rarely if ever brings about change. Nor does it improve our situation. It may or may not produce a work of genius... but more then likely it will be as pitiful as the author is. The writer feels better, perhaps he changes a few minds and attracts other tortured souls; but in the long run nobody remembers a generation for it's tortured souls.

I hurt for more reasons then I can count. The temptation to fall into this pattern of writing and feeling is immense. It's benefits immediate and appealing. It's another struggle in a soul that is torn in many directions already.
Already I have slid into it partly and I can see myself in the future falling deeper and deeper into it. Every new cut opens my older wounds which bleed anew.
When I was faced with death I felt nothing but regret. Regret for love... regret for my writing, regret for those I would leave behind. Fear was secondary to that feeling that I failed at life. Here I am now with a bleeding heart that won't be staunched and a tormented soul. I try to connect to that flow of life and I can't. An empty and tortured being is counter to that great tao or energy.

For a long time I felt I had something to prove to the world. I had to excel where others had declared I would fail. I had to validate my existance because so many around me denied it's worth. I believed them in my heart and tried so hard to do it. Sometimes I would not and broke down and gave up. You cannot impress others intentionally even if it's your sole wish and desire. Moreover in recent time I have tried to prove to myself that my existance is justified, I have forced my own growth when it should be natural... I am not free to love with an open heart because I am not who I am suppose to be. Everything causes something else; as time goes on the messes get larger and larger until I cannot know where to begin to fix them. Everything I am now is a mess and counter-to what I am inside, the true me. I know that so many things in this world are short lived, there are people I love that I cannot tell I love because the pain to me is so great. I cannot release my pain or anger... anger which feels cold and hollow. Because I cannot let go of that pain I can't and shouldn't love anyone or anything.

Yes. I have chosen to change who I am. But really all I am doing is unmasking who I am. Every new nick and cut stings me, for this process is open and peels away the thick skin I have devloped. Some of my plans for the future have to be abandoned. Some of my dreams can never be reality. There are people I care for that I cannot never express my love for, I will never see them again and if that wasn't enough I am certain that the frustration will only grow worse as the obstacles rise behind what I can accomplish myself. Help is not in god or the tao. Help is in the laugher of a friend, in their embrace and companionship. It's in the acceptance of life and all that stands for.
I have always known the answer to my problems, and even now I would rather suffer and struggle then accept and follow it. Maybe when I've run out of walls to scale I'll turn around and face why I am really truly hurting.

Goodnight.

Untitled.

I've spent quite a bit of time talking about my past and present. Most recently about my inability to muster any real anger. Some of the people I talked about were angry and that anger was justified. They are part of my life and regardless of what they think I have every right to share my feelings. However I am choosing to waive that right and I will not publish names or details of other people I know without permission from now on. (Unless I don't like you, then grease up because I'm coming for you.)

If I've talked about this before I am deeply sorry. But this topic has to be disscussed before I complete my thoughts for this entry. One of my primary fears is of failure and it's no secret. I've long been torn by the part of me that is daring and outgoing and the part that is careful and shy. Failure is one of the worsr feelings in the world... disappointment... shame... etc. You feel them all when you fail and more importantly you are denied those basic human desires for acknowledgement and accomplishment. I have always been afraid of failure and therefore I have been unwilling to try... if I do not try then I cannot fail.

One of the upsides to a period of reflection and personal growth is problems like these get some attention. Slowly I am unearthing that sense of self that I lost. I am digging up that pride and honor that were buried and tarnished. I think of all things a sense of who I am is more important then anything else. The word I have used before is a "sense of my own destiny" which I am certain I stole from somewhere. But alas since I cannot remember I cannot attribute. I know what I want and what I have to do... slowly I am becoming a person of actions and not merely of thoughts. I have changed the very basis of my weaknesses and shortcomings and turn them into strengths. Fear of failure? Determination not to fail.

My destiny is not one of blood or violence. Nor is it a path of peace. But my path is in the hearts of those who read my words. Every person who reads my words will know my feelings and find in themselves their own destiny. My struggle is not unique... all people struggle and changing the situation doesn't change the determination they all feel. I struggle with illness... there are others more ill then I. I struggle with loss? Others have lost more. If the only thing I am remembered for is putting words to that determination... that struggle then I count my life as well spent.

But that won't be all. I have too much to accomplish. Overcoming is not the end. It is the beginning. I will use my words to reach the hearts of people and do good. Every heart I reach out to feels like mine, feels heartbreak, rejection, loss, determination, joy, sadness and hope. They are not alone and neither am I.

Good Night everyone.

In Loving Memory

Goodbye Jade. I'll miss you. Until I see you on the other side stay out of trouble.

Fire and Ice

I've been a broken record for quite some time. Going over the myrid side effects of my illness... the pain and problems of my childhood. But I have skirted something else that I have been afraid to talk about. Yes it deals with my being sick... but it's different then you imagine. As one friend put it "Isn't it a good thing kind of?".

I haven't felt angry... really angry in a long time. I act angry but inside I feel cold and empty. Like an ice that burns. Anger should feel hot and fill your belly with fire... not feel cold and hollow. In truth I have felt this way in more then just my anger... I avoid making choices or commitments because I have most my desire, passion and drive. Like A robot I've moved and acted without feeling...

Tonight I put my favorite song on and listened. For those not in the know it's "The Warmth" by Incubus. I thought about how medicore I've become. Not just as a writer but as a human being. I've failed as everything I've wanted to become and I've done nothing of what I wanted to do. I have no edge or skill anymore... I second guess when I should know for certain; I hesitate when I should act. I act when the best course of action is to stay. My internal compass is massively off.

I haven't faced my pain, my hurt and my anger. I advise others to face their problems but I myself do nothing. I'm still frozen up in my pain and hurt. I've dealt with the problems of my mind... and of the ailing spirit. But my emotional health is still dangerously poor. I'm strong now. Strong enough to do this. These are all people who have hurt me and I still carry that hurt.

James Rands. You were a terrible father and the childhood I lost because of you is something I can never get back. Love does not excuse hurting someone. I never hated you but I would've been within bounds if I had. You could not control me or break me, I am what I am and I will not be ashamed of it.

Jenni. I gave you my heart and you smahed it without a second thought. Whatever ill will I have given you is well deserved. When I needed you most you found the arms of another. Your terrible crimes didn't stop with me and sadden and hurt me deeply to think about even now. What you are now is not something I can never love: a selfish creature. You don't merit my hate. Your future is one I should pity.

Holly Blackham. You hurt me out of ignorance, not out of malice or spite. To protect yourself and I can't find qualm with that. Had you known how much a word from a friend would've lit up my life I think you would've talked to me more.

Xerath. Your an ass and a tyrant. I didn't stab you in the back; I came right for your throat. And I told you I was coming you son of a bitch. I only regret that I couldn't have been the one to push you off your throne you pompus bully.

My 5th grade teacher. Most teachers encourage their students hobbies and interests. When you told me my writing sucked and I had no hope of publishing it... I tore all 340 pages of that novel to pieces and didn't pick up a pen for years after that. Had I not been a child I would've understood the envy and frustration you felt and let it slide. But I was a child and your words cut me deeply. Even now I am secretive about anything I have written... paranoid even.

Holley Gulso. Perhaps the person who knows me best. The person who knows my mind and heart, every weakness and certainly every secret. My anger at you has an unfathomable quality: No direction. For years I have felt oppressed by my feelings for you.. both as friend and more. You did nothing wrong yet the endless frustration I feel comes from something. Your evasive about your feelings. Emotionally you are like a proverbial black hole eating away at all the matter in my life. Yet I could never hate you, I could never be angry at you for long, I could never attack you or confront you. It angers me that something like this floats in the air. That you hide everything in your air of normality.

Thats the top of a pretty short list. The people I have been closest to have been the ones to hurt and anger me most.
Even as I type this. And remember this pain. It still doesn't burn hot in my belly. It feels unnatural and wrong. I want to be angry. When I was angry I could say I felt alive and filled with passion... filled with something that isn't cold and lonely. My mind is healing, my body is healing and my spirit is healing.
So why does this one aspect of my life defy healing? Perhaps the isolation and reflection that brought the repair of my mind has damaged my emotional health further... perhaps it is because I haven't told people how I feel. I haven't talked to them honestly and I haven't faced my emotional pain in a serious matter.

The next step is to free myself of all that binds me. I have to be free to find the truth and ultimately so that I can be happy and angry again. Because without that anger I don't ever feel calm or relaxed. It has to be released.

The Will to Power

Nietzche was a complicated man. He was a christian that deeply hated the large body of christianity. He was in constant emotional and physical pain from illness and isolation. Most of his latter work is incoherent and compares to high school trite and ranting. But one idea that he had always seems to stick out to me. The will to power.

In simple terms it means that the meaning of life is to gain power.
Indeed there is a basic instinct towards power. People flock to it, they idolize it and worship it. They pay everything they have for the smallest piece of it.
Power is something that defies explanation. You can get power with respect, money, love, leadership, unique skills, deception, chance, planning and a host of other ways. Yet the methods to attaining power tell us nothing of the primal nature of power itself. Some people just seem to radiate power. They have charisma, intelligence and something more. An X factor that cannot be defined. A sense of self? Ego? Maybe in part.

They dominate parties, they are the center of social circles, they win elections, gather followers, convert the wayward and a host of other things. Democracy has not changed the nature of power in the slightest. These people who wield "power" are the center of our human experiences. They are our kennedys and our rockfellers and they are the height of our human experience. They experience the greatest joys and the deepest sorrows. For a person who wields power there is inside the burning quest for more power. Power to control an idea or a thought or a belief. Fear and intimidation are power and so are hope and courage. Power is behind all things. All actions and thoughts... every emotion.

Everything is motivated by power. Rather that power be used for good, evil or both. My hat is off to Nietzche. The will to power is the start of a deeper question. Why is that the meaning of life? If we were beings of pure kindness without the desire to compete against each other then we would be little more then animals. No drive or ambition to accomplish anything.
If our world was not harsh but instead peaceful. If we had a perfect harmony with the world and adapted to it... we would not improve either. Without our desire for power we would do nothing and become nothing.

In that regard the only logical answer is that evil and power are needed for the ultimate good. That in order to ascend to the level we have to reach: god is pushing us to learn what is needed. Does god feel it to? Did he attain his power and wisdom as we do: By trial and error? Evil and good are flip sides of the same coin. But that coin is power.

Bleh Cable

The worst part about getting cable TV is catching a show you like in a marathon. Take for example Angel on TNT.
I've seen just enough scattered Buffy episodes to follow the plot, but I certainly haven't seen enough angel episodes to jump into a marathon. This illuminates my dark burning desire to watch things beginning to end all at once. Kenshin? The West Wing? Ghost in the shell? I always want/have to watch a series all at once or it erodes my sanity. I cannot count how many nights I've spent watching and re-watching a series; watch each twist in the plot and every action with an exacting gaze.

It's a problem certainly. I'm going to have to go buy some DVDs before too long...

Sudden Transformations

I thought perhaps with the backdrop of massive national change going on; This would be a good time to talk about my own personal changes. I'm sorry for beating a dead horse but I haven't gotten this all out of my system yet... and being mostly a blog about me it's not out of place. Although it may in fact be boring.

Most of what I'm talking about is in context to how I view the world. I came to realize early in my life that I was pretty damn unusual. Here is some observations of my life to prove this point. Sort of a history of me in brief. I was raised to be morman but rejected by the time I was 10 for brain washing me. I'm not sure how many 10 years decide actively that they are being brain washed and walk away from their families religion. But there I was. On the opposite side of the field I had the bad influence that was my father. He consistantly offered me beer, birth control and even ciggarettes. I looked down on this nearly as much as the church. I literally felt like I had to choose between religion or a life of hedonistic bohemia, yet neither felt right for me.

When I was very very young I was tormented by other children. I had no strong parental influences, mentors or friends. My father spent most of my childhood either drunk, on his way to getting drunk, working or in jail. Sometimes when he was drunk he would beat me for something. Then the next memory forget it had ever happened. He would verbally abuse me far more often. Occasionally he would decide to buddy up to me. Instead of doing what I liked we went on fishing trips and monster truck rallies. In the almost 23 years of my life thus far my father has yet to sit down and actually learn about me.
Instead of being like him I became the image of my mother. Perhaps it haunted him in a way; it would explain in large part the rift that exists between us. He never recovered from my mothers death. To tried to fill his life with all kinds of things.. most of which I disapprove of. Looking back at it I understand how he came to his conclusion in life. But that doesn't mean I agree with it.

I never picked a side in the religion vs pleasure debate. The pressures from my friends and family urged me toward the church. The pressure from my father urged me to a darker path. Instead I felt both were wrong and rejected them harder and harder. I was naturally very passive as a child. But as my torment grew and grew I become more overtly controlling, more angry and occasionally more violent. I became more assured of myself and started to collect actual friends. I threw myself into a variety of studies and by the time I finished Jr High I had a college level knowledge of a variety of topics.

It was that summer between 9th and 10th grade that my life shifted. I had a falling out with my friends and the community of misfits and gamers I belonged to. Among them I had been one of the best. A power broker of sorts and known for my ruthless playing style. These friends pressured me into drugs, acts of violence, sexuality and even the occult. I rejected and struggled with it for a long time before I finally fell out with them. I spent the last two months of the summer in my own self-imposed exile. It was during this time that I became even more reflective. I spent days in the library reading about religion, psychology, philosophy. I read Kant, Lao Tzu, Nietzche, Bacon, Mill and a host of great minds and spiritualists. I found for the first that men other then myself that felt as I did. It was very liberating for me. I grew more in those two months then I did the two years before it. I realized fairly quickly that I was a taoist.

It was not a choice that I made. But instead I realized that it was what I truly believed in. I had known it all my life but never had a name for it. I took great pains to cut the evil and the anger from my heart. When I reached highschool I was a new person. I had a job, took AP classes and wrote with great intensity.
I moved from the dirty, crime ridden ghetto back to my grandparents house.
I even made friends, the majority of them were morman but I no longer rejected it as strongly as I did before. I tolerated their beliefs and even came to agree with them in certain areas. It would take a severe and nearly fatal infection to undo all the accomplishments of this era of my life.

That transformation was incredible, it occured almost instantly and had profound long term effects for me. It was there and then that I learned the power of... well power.
I guess Willpower is the more precise term. I did everything I wanted to do. I merely willed myself into doing it. Even if something meant emotional pain or public embarassment I did it anyway. I pushed myself far harder then I had the means to sustain and burned myself out. A lesson well learned.


Now. I am on the horns of another transformation. People have foisted religion in my face again. (Yes... that means you Dwight) and I know in my heart that it isn't right. Churches are prisons for the soul, they do not build you up or treat your soul as something unique.. but rather a generic soul. Everything is right or wrong. It's us or them. But as someone who studies psychology I can tell you that is just a ploy. If you set your organization against everything else... then it strengthens your position. When people come along and attack your church or religion you feel your leaders words and actions were justified. Not every person of faith falls into this pit... but enough do that it frightens me. Cults, Churches, Con-artists and dictators have used this trick forever. Look at North Korea. The people are starving to death but they still support their leader because "he" is leading them against the world which seeks to undermine them. I could list examples both in history and modern all day. But I feel it's a waste of good words. I can distill my beliefs into words. Here is a tip of the iceberg.

I believe in Life, Freedom, Happiness, Hope, Karma, A higher power, Big Foot, Love, Destiny, Passion, Evil likes to disguise itself as good, Ego is more dangerous then WMD's, Pride is a double edged sword, No matter what happens people are going to get hurt, Some people cannot be redeemed or saved, Everything has an opposite.. be it an idea or something else, Moderation in all things... even moderation itself, something is worth as much as someone else is willing to pay for it, there are no stupid ideas, you shouldn't break the law unless the law is wrong.. then you should break it often and loudly, being different isn't a crime... being ashamed of being different is a crime, thou shalt not kill, boredom might not be fatal... but never take the chance, no person has more rights then another... they might be superior/inferior in some fashion but it does not afford them better or worse rights, I will never master basic math, only steal if you have no choice.. then don't get caught, hiding things makes them into a weakness... an open book is far harder to attack, you can grant forgiveness but it will not restore trust, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, don't fight on your enemies terms, don't lie to someone smarter then you, there is no such thing as defeat unless you are dead, he who learns to run away is he runs another day, if your enemy does not reveal a weakness use one of yours, love is not blind but it is deaf, if you read this your a better person then I would be, don't let yourself run out of enemies, conflict is better then comfort, an easy victory is less satisfying then a well fought defeat, trust is more valuable then diamonds or gold, you never really know a person, everyone thinks their religion is right... guess what your all wrong, sex is not evil unless it's with Hitler or an animal, courage is more powerful then charisma, there is no greater struggle in this world then between reality and fantasy, aliens exist but think we are too stupid to merit conversation, the goverment is out to get you but doesn't know how yet, kindness should be practiced with all people even your enemies and being a good person is not a requirement for a good life... but it helps.

I believe in more then just that. But I wanted to make a point. Transformations are not sudden but happen behind the scenes where they cannot be seen. Do you believe that all of the things I've listed could arise at once? A swift transformation is either fake or an supressed and coming forward. Take born-again christians. The idea of being a christian isn't new to them... they are aware of the those ideas and teachings... but something occurs which causes those beliefs to come to the forefront or to reorganize. It's not sudden, it's water backed up behind the dam. For me the water has backed up for quite some time, pain has created a fear of change and healing it in isolation is very hard. Now that I am of sound mind and spirit I wait for the dam to break and wave of change to transform me. Only unlike the hapless who is overwhelmed by the flood. I am prepared because I am the one who filled the lake behind the dam.

Goodnight everyone.

Choices, and the hungry wolf.

While reflection on ideas of universal truth is interesting; most of my thoughts as of late have been focused on the nature of life itself.
I had a realization many days ago. The world was exactly as I saw it. It was exactly as I felt it. Illusion and deception can be pierced and the truth seen.
I found that thinking in dozens of myrid options was actually hurting me. I would not see something as a few simple choices, but a dozen possible choices with variations on each. In this case less is more.

Instead of a dozen options I need only look at the best. When I pit myself against an enemy of skill every moment is important. I can learn the best options for every situation and use them accordingly. What a difference it makes in life to remove the indescion! To cut the mental waste away like so much fat has been immensely helpful. It allows me to concentrate more effort on the other issue I'll address tonight.

Whoever you are reading this. Have you ever cared about someone secretly? Perhaps a close friend? a married woman? Your lovers best friend? Someone much younger or older then you?
I have once or twice; and they are symptom of a much larger problem for me.
For a number of years I devoted myself to helping others, then helping myself, then hurting or exploiting people. The skills needed apply to all three and in some areas I've honed them to a terrifying degree. Yet for all that I have my own unrepairable emotional wounds. A need to be loved and given attention. A need to give someone else unconditional love. It need not be sexual for it's deeply emotional... a void inside that I cannot control. It hungers for love and attention creating for me terrible situations and pain. Feeding it sates it for a time but like a lone wolf it is never truly fed.

Perhaps it's something everyone feels. But in me it is abnormal. It's a weakness in an otherwise impressive amount of self-control and awareness. It is one reason that I seek those who give love unconditionally and those who hunger for love as I do. I feel drawn to those kindred souls... souls which always manage to hurt me in the end. If it were merely a need to take love I would consider it evil. But how do you define a feeling to give love to many people? Attraction is something to be expected from time to time. But what about a primal force that urges you toward those of similar emotional makeup? It's a terrible destructive force for an existing relationship and eventually I'll need to deal with that. I can master and control it like so many other primal forces I've encountered within myself... but I wonder if that is the right choice. Love need not always be long term or even sexual/romantic. It is within me to love people deeply when I sense part of me within them, that isn't something I can just throw away carelessly.

I reflect that a void does not always drag things away. But sometimes towards.
In this case it could be mutually productive... love without obligations. Love without limits or conditions. Like the cherry blossom it's beauty is enhanced by the knowledge that it is short lived. Perhaps even a deeply rooted friendship, that too is a form of fullfilling love. Eventual escape from this void brings pain, relief and eventually freedom to repeat again. A cycle of pleasure and pain that will remain unbroken until I find a perfect person who can fill that void in my heart forever. Perhaps such a person is already in my life waiting for the chance. More likely it could be any person who had the desire to become that.
My own personal emotional pariah. Perfection is impossible even when your blinded by love; I don't think thats what I want. But then again all I really want right now is to ease that hungry void for awhile longer.

Questions about a universal truth

The worst part of deciding who you are is counting the ripples each choice has in your life. I didn't go on some grand adventure to find myself. I created who I am with careful thought and spiritual reflection. If it had been handed to me what kind of person could I lay claim to being? I can assure you that I wouldn't think highly of myself had my answers come easily. Many nights of doubt and torture came with every answer. Doubt that never really goes away. Even when you know something is true you still doubt it. I used to run from that doubt and hide from it. As if it were an enemy that dogged my mind. I've come to the conclusion that doubt is not the destroyer but rather doubt is the creator. Without doubt I would not perfect my answers. I would not push myself harder but I would fold or give in to the ideals that are passed to me by others. That terrible sin of accepting something because another subscribes to it. Little more then a mob mentality when another decides for you. When his thoughts carry more weight then your own.

Perhaps everything I believe in is wrong. I admit that I don't know better then anyone else about god or other long held universal truths.
Wiccans believe in a goddess, Christians believe in a god and his son. Taoists believe in many gods with a great universal source of creation beyond them, Buddhists believe that kindness will result in enlightenment and Atheists believe that no power drives their lives but their own raw will and emotion.
I believe that kindess is powerful and right. But I am not a Buddhist. I believe in God but I am not a Christian. I believe in a goddess yet I am not a Wiccan.
I believe that I determine my own destiny by the power of my own will. Yet I am not an atheist. The open honesty of Taoism is the only belief I can ever believe in if I want to be honest with myself. When I lie to myself about who or what I am... that only creates suffering. The suffering of searching is nothing to the suffering of one who is afraid to search... to question and to explore.

The truths of this world are perhaps more then I can understand. Likely it will not be until my death that I truly understand. But until that day comes I will fullfil my own destiny. Using that willpower and determination I will forge myself into the tool that is needed. I do not question the idea of a universal truth. A god, buddha or tao. I question who I am to such a power. A child? a student? A peer? Will I grow to the power of my unfathomable source? Will I forever remain a child to it? Good questions to reflect on. Simply knowing that a universal truth exists does not lay out a clear plan of action. That depends on the conclusions I choose to draw in my life. Perhaps god is offended that I question him. Maybe he is pleased that I seek answers honestly. My observations are pale to his eternal truths, truths which are hidden from me until my death. I think in the end god does not matter that I question as long as I do so with honesty and a heart and mind filled with good.

Lasting Victory

It annoys me when I see someone win because their enemy was too greedy.
You see it all the time if you play video games with any frequency.
It's the person who isn't content to take out a few buildings and leave before help arrives. He wants to finish off the building or unit he came for. He is isolated and destroyed. His advantage is reversed because of simple greed. Now his victim has respite to rebuild and his allies will certainly press their advantage.

So it with poltics. The GOP thought that with a lock hold on the country it would be wise to push their agenda as quickly as possible. Passing gay marriage laws, rigging districts to keep democrats out of office, packing their friends pockets with goverment contracts... the list goes on and on.
Like that novice player they have over extended their lines, instead of a lasting victory they must now settle for short term gains while they focus on rebuilding.

The Republican party opposed de-segregation; and the civil rights movement as a whole. And they have paid for it in more recent times. My generation and the generations after mine are staunchly pro-gay marriage. Religion is less a priority for my generation. When the time comes for us to step up to the plate and take the reins of this country the republican legacy will crumble further. Interested only in immediate victory they keep selling off their future to immediate gain. I will admit that players like Karl Rove are brillant, genius even in their use of tactics. They have snatched impressive victories from a bumbling and weakened enemy.

If you want to accomplish something you need farsighted strategy. Don't just plan for your next battle. Plan for your legacy. I'm also the guy who gets his base torched by a well executed attack. But more often then not I still win the war. I guess it boils down to where you keep your eyes.

Coasting on empty.

Have you ever ran a race? The thrill is something special... you can't find it anywhere else. You run and run and run. It's not about beating another guy down but finding something in yourself to push forward. Breaking down walls, ignoring pain and testing your limits. Yes there is another guy doing the same thing next to me, and behind me, and in front of me. If I focus on the guy in front or behind me then I lose that inner focus and falter.

I pushed myself hard, overcame obstacles I thought too tall to scale. Fought enemies cloaked in an air of invincibility. Yet now my pace has slowed. I stop and look around only to realize that I no longer have that terrible enemy to pace myself against. It some moments I let sadness in, I remember the terrible things that happened and the price I paid to defeat it. Instead of wallow I acknowledge this sadness and prepare for my future. 3/4 of my life is left. (at least) And I had better get to work to finish everything I've got cooking. I don't have time to be sad and to wallow and pout.

When I turn inwards I see how the changes have marked me, I alter my choice slightly. I imagine it's something like the starship enterprise. Picard was a badass for sure; but what happens while they are flying around at warp speed and almost hit a planet? You can't know where everything is, what about other ships? You can't keep track of everything in space. I like to imagine that while picard is blasting around space his ship makes little corrections in the course. It adjusts for a ship here, a planet there; perhaps a stray black hole or pulsar.
Life is much the same. The vast majority of people fixate on one aspect of life. They assume that if they find someone that loves them and find a decent job they have it made. It's a sad world that people limit their ambitions to so little.
They attend the same church, talk with the same people, play the same types of games, read the same types of books, eat the same kinds of foods.

It can be argued that humans are creatures of comfort and routine. More order and less chaos creates the apperance of control over life. If a surprise is delightful... then why limit yourself to a set course in life. I'm certain it's not going to provide you many surprises. Simply variations of the same things you've seen and done before. Perhaps it can simple fear. Fear is so very powerful it destroys, erodes, unravels. People keep secrets because they are afraid of the consquences of those secrets being known. People keep silly things a secret because of fear, most often it is a secret desire or lust; why not let it out? Why hold in something because of fear?

I have known fear, sometimes I can conquer it and sometimes I cannot. But always I am better when I do conquer it. Fear of not acting is not a reason for inaction. Delay perhaps; assessment? of course. How does this connect to my title head and earlier statements? Well it's a pretty direct course actually.

The last year was hell on my body. I went from being an able fighter and athlete to barely able to open my own bottles. I had sharpened mental focus which is also gone. Perhaps thinking they would always be there was a terrible sin. My hubris is truly opportunity however. I get the chance to rebuild much of who I am from scratch. I've outlined a plan. Much like me it needs some meat on it's bones... but for the moment it serves me just fine. Running a marathon on empty doesn't do it for me.

The first step is to detoxify my body, mind and spirit.
This is quite possibly the hardest step of all. For 3 days I cannot consume anything aside from rye bread with peanut butter and water.
After that I will add milk and non-sugar based juices. I'm very concerned that I could give myself diabetes with my addiction to caffine based drinks. That addiction will cause a great deal of painful withdrawals. To offset them I'll allow myself a can of soda on the 6th day. I will add food to my diet over time until I have a diet that can support my new lifestyle. Can I eat junk food? Sure. But not all of the time. Can I drink soda? Sure. But I have to drink enough water to flush it out. That could mean 13-14 glasses of water a day or more. Eventuallly I hope to phase such an addicition out of my life all together.

I'll fill in the other details later today. I may or may not post them here though.

Paragon Life

Of my many goals it can be said they all have a single thread in common. Each lends itself to a larger cause: A destiny where I accomplish my life's ambitions.
A life of love and kindness, where I can realize my potential as a human being and as a writer. Self actualized is a good word to use. A lofty goal but one I am certain I can reach now.

In order to ascend to this lofty state of being I need a plan. My own plan has been destroyed. It's impracticality reflects my inexperience with life at the time. My new plans are more flexable, my new goals are smaller and easier to accomplish; each goal scales until it reaches a truly epic size. It brings to mind the story of the young ninja. His master planted a sapling and told the young warrior to jump over it 100 times a day. The student faithfully did even when the tree grew to an adult size. It's about building up slowly.

It's not too much to hope for is it? A career, a family, skills and accomplishment. In reality it would be endless nights of travel to promote books. Research trips, etc. Not fair to a young family or my someday bride.
I suppose without children I could let my wife/girlfriend travel with me. But it's so much to ask someone to leave their life behind while I tour.
Mmm, I guess it's one more thing to think about while I try and scratch out my career.

Balance of Power

I've been thinking long and hard about my beliefs. Constantly challenging and reexamining. A thought a few snags I would share with you to see what your imput is.

Anything in it's extreme is bad. A long held Taoist principal is that excess and extremes are bad. Take for example power.
Lets take a current example with President Bush. He may in fact be a god-loving christian... but power has far greater a corrupting effect then most people realize. Most presidents don't have a lock-grip on congress like he does currently and therefore have a diminished power base. To make matters worse our country was attacked giving him free reign to seize even more power. An excess of power can destroy anyone, even a good hearted christian. The ideal solution is to balance power with power. In my own life I have to learn how to balance my own power with the power of others. Too much and I become a tyrant... too little and I become a slave.

I struggle because like all people I want control of my life. I want to say that certain things are under my control. Perhaps this is a way of psychologically asserting control over a situation which honestly can never be fully controlled. Yet then again too little control and I drift around like floatsam on the swells of the ocean. If I go to battle of course I want to control my enemies actions and movements... of course I want to do what is needed to attain victory...

Control is a great comfort; it really is. Yet control is empty... it is not dynamic and it does not give rise to creativity and spontanaity. The trick is as always in my philosophical school of thought in balance. Sometimes a momentary excess is needed to lift yourself to another plane or to experience something new and euphoric. Perhaps if I become a political agent or military commander I need to control people... but in life that sort of control is wrong and many levels. It's danger is plainly clear, tyrants live in fear and deprave themselves of the basic human need of trust. I would rather discard the need for control and opt for cooperation.. for true leadership. A true leader does not make his followers believe what he believes... he reflects what they believe. He does not order them; instead he vocalizes the words that stir within their hearts they cannot put name to.

All things I quietly reflect on this night. Perhaps someday I find realize my ideal of a world without excesses of power. But I am consoled in knowing that another taoist law works against those evil tyrants... the law that nothing on this earth is immortal or eternal. They suffer from decay, loss of control and power. disinterest and boredom. Strain. They are replaced by those they have oppresed and those people in turn are corrupted by that power until they to are overthrown. Evil is not an absolute, but like all energy it is dynamic and constantly changing.

Bladesong Reprive Part 1

This story is a soliders tale. She becomes more then a solider over the course of the entire story. This is all I have right now and I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to finish it. But this is a pretty good stopping point.


Bladesong Reprive Part 1
It had been 26 years since the last Mordathal solider had step foot in Bladesong.
Twenty-six years of fear and regret; finally melting into history where it belonged.
It was during that battle here in the fields of Bladesong that I: Solem Molani became a warrior. I write here of my own free will the events that lead me into the service of the goddess of my enemies.

My father Saitko Molani was a famous blacksmith; he applied the Kokuran forging techniques to the larger double-sided Mordathal bastard sword, it took him 3 months to craft a single blade, and warriors from across the island coveted his steel. Because of this we lived well and my father provided me an education in both martial disciplines and scholarly pursuits. However a month before my 17th birthday the Keshian war broke out. My schooling would have to wait. Every able hand eagerly joined the militia and I was no exception.

I was of course Mordathal. A race with a destiny of battle, my devotion to the goddess was unwavering. The night before my unit left father gifted me with one of his creations,
A modification of a Kokuran Katana: much longer and slimmer with a simple blood red hilt. Kaitaro the Enchanter who was my father’s business partner enchanted it to seek the blood of the goddesses’ enemies.

I remember the tears in his eyes as he helped me into my armor. I felt embarrassed by his weakness until he told me how proud he was. I said goodbye to my mother and younger sisters. Each of whom would someday be a warrior in her own right.

The Bladesong Militia was divided into 6 units. I was assigned to unit 3 under a carpenter named Silvarian. During the march he would tell stories from previous battles. All knew the Keshian’s were fat merchants; they did not hunger for battle like we did. But rather gold and comforts, Manthos who was our unit’s war-mage laughed and told us in Kesh they considered us little more then illiterate apes. Silvarian told him to be quiet and we marched in silence for the next few miles. His words burn in my heart.
We are a people of the sword, not savages who kill without cause. Was it not the greed of Kesh that forced us into this war? I brooded the politics to myself for the rest of that night.

Within the week we reached the body of the army. Silvarian brought our papers to the quartermaster and we were assigned tents. I have never seen so many men, so many tents or so many swords. My papers classified me a light swordsman and I was given a new unit. Of my new squad I recognized Manthos from my village but no others. He and I talked much more then we had before. I came to respect his keen mind and oftentimes we would spar while waiting for orders. Those orders did not come for another week.

Kesh had blockaded our island and forbid any ship to enter. No navy in the world could hope to defeat Kesh. The rich island spent fortunes building and maintaining a powerful navy to protect its mercantile interests. The malaise of the soldiers could be felt in the air as you walked about camp. Manthos lived in Kesh during his apprenticeship and told me more about the enemy. I listened intently picking over the details of my enemies home.
Those orders were not to disband as many feared: But instead a march to the north.
Keshian mercenaries had landed armies along the northeastern half of our island: A full legion of sell-swords from every corner of Drakkor. During the day we would march and Manthos and I spent the night discussing every topic from politics to theology.
Our unit, the 453rd was split off with several others as a quick response battalion. We would ambush and harass an enemy army moving towards the Moroden forests.

Manthos sat in my tent that night calmly smoking his pipe. He seemed considerably less relaxed then he had before. Finally he pulled the pipe out and addressed me. “Solem. Have you ever been in a battle before?”
I didn’t respond at first. I had never considered if the well-traveled mage had seen battle.
He had certainly never told me any stories of battle. “Once my father dueled a warrior from the capital. The warrior thought himself fit enough to carry one of my fathers swords. That is the closest I have come”

He stroked his wiry thin goatee as he pondered it. “Our goddess does not love cowards, she is a goddess of warriors. What would you think of me if I told you I was afraid of dying tomorrow?”

I opened my mouth to speak. But before I could Manthos put his arms around me and drew me against him. I blushed and tried to push him away. He held on tighter and I protested half-heartily. I gave the mage a playful kiss and he responded in kind. He held me in his strong arms until I fell asleep. I felt truly alive that night, even though we did not make love. His presence calmed my own secret fear.

Moroden was north of Bladesong and I remember passing the Karderong River in my childhood. Our scouts had announced the enemy was waiting on the north bank of the river for us. Several of those scouts did not return. Evidenced by blood soaked arrows scattered along the forest floor. No bodies were found.
Manthos picked up one of the arrows. These are elven he whispered to me. Our arrogant cousins have thrown their lot in with the merchants.

I watched as Manthos raced ahead to warn the commander. I do not know how far he made it because shortly after he left the elves began firing at us from the forests.
Our war-mages acted quickly making walls of wind and raw magical force to repel the arrows. Our crossbowmen responded, as did our mages. After a brief firefight the elves vanished. A handful of soldiers were injured and taken to the priests for healing.
I wasn’t able to look for Manthos because we started marching right away. The commanders ordered us to march to the river. The enemy army had moved away from the river and deeper into the Moroden.

The commander ordered a quick crossing. Fear of a surprise attack during the crossing concerned everyone. The priests of the goddess brought forth sturdy brides out of thin air. The soldier’s mood lightened at this. With the goddess all things are possible they whispered to each other. I started to sing the hymn of the crimson tiger as we crossed.

The warriors around me heard the song and began to sing as well. The sound of our faith filled the forests loudly. At first the commander tried to silence us for fear of giving away our position. Then after moment the song began to affect him as well.
The enemy began to arrive about an hour later. Skirmishers and scouts returned wounded saying the enemy was near. With the river behind us we fell into orderly groups. I lost track of my unit briefly in the mad shuffle. I found them just as Manthos had arrived from other end of the line. I could not speak to him over the roar of the army; I looked into his eyes and saw his fear. But I could also feel his resolve. He smiled at me with his twisted grin and began to cast his first spell.

My first battle was frightening. The invaders came in groups covered by archers. Our initial line held them back. I stood just behind the first line with my sword in hand.
My father told me that in Kokuran you could not draw your sword unless you intended to use it. I remembered those words as I pulled his beautiful sword from its sheath.
The commander gave us the order to counter attack. The front ranks opened and we poured out into the battlefield.

The warriors around me screamed and yelled to the heavens. The sound of a hundred swords being drawn deafened the forest further. Beside me was Manthos chanting his spells as we charged. We reached the enemy line each man fell into his own private battle. Manthos beside me started to blast away at archers situated in the trees. I covered him with my sword. My first opponent came in through the space between my comrades battles. He flashed a wicked toothless grin as he came at me. My sword met his and pushed him backwards into another fray. One of his men stepped on his head and fell; both struggled to get up. I raced over and neatly put my sword through both.

Behind me Manthos cried in pain. The archers began to pepper him with arrows. One hit his shoulder and another buried itself in his left leg. He stood firmly chanting his spells one after another taking down the hated archers. More soldiers rushed us. I locked shoulders with another Mordathal swordswoman and we held them off Manthos awhile longer. They pressed us hard and we started to get swept away from the rest of our unit. I pushed back against the flow of bodies fighting my way back to the mage. Manthos took a sword to the back. His eyes filled with anger and pain Manthos turned to his assailant and turned his armor molten hot. The warrior cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground. All I could smell was the burning of flesh and leather.

I lost track of Manthos, of my unit. and I focused on my sword. My own battles, I took down several more warriors killing them as they came. After a moment I realized that no enemies stood. My heart was filled my rage and passion. Bloodlust.
I wanted to keep killing and fighting but I couldn’t see any more enemies. Manthos staggered towards me bleeding from several places. In his eyes I could see the same passion. I reached out for him and kissed him urgently. We fell together in the forest and made love. I was not gentle despite his injures, nor was he to me. The blood and sweat rolled off our bodies as we became one. I dug my nails deeply into his back causing new tiny wounds. He did not wince but held me even more roughly. After our exertions I laid on his chest feeling the rise and fall. I noticed now in this moment of peace that I too was wounded. We tended each others wounds and returned to camp that morning.
“You are like the crimson tiger herself” my lover said to me that night as we retired to our tent.

A crusade and a valkyarie, and much more.

For those who know me in World of Warcraft. You must know I got into the exclusive Burning Crusade Beta. Aside from that I burn my hours playing Valkyarie Profile 2: Silmeria... or rather I would be if I didn't have better things to do.

You see. I haven't exactly been creative for a long time. Most everything you've read here is a rehash of something or a retelling of an event. Nothing especially creative for at least a year. Now the problem is inverse. I have so many ideas and not enough outlets that it's drowning me out. Dozens of short story ideas, poems, haiku, articles, game concepts etc.

To make matters worse my computer has decided that it doesn't want to function properly anymore. This has driven me back to the much hated long hand. Anyone who knows me knows that I suffer from terrible hand writing. My recent physical problems with my hand haven't helped, although alot better; the atrophy has yet to be overcome. I'm going to focus the bulk of my efforts on my fantasy setting and short fiction. Nick deserves a suitable epic adventure for his return to Drakkor.

I'm counting the last year as a wash. But the year before that I learned alot about storytelling. Not merely storytelling but better application of skills I already had. I was around not merely people all the time, but people with meaningful deep stories. These are all vital in my new narrative. Perhaps I'll put a bit of my short story "Bladesong Reprive" on later to serve as an example.
To me storytelling is what I am. It's an art I had forgotten in my heart for such a long time. Returning to it now is like returning home after a lengthy trip.
It defines who I am in a way that ironicly words cannot describe.

I'm back

Most issues are largely resolved. Here is a breakdown of things that are happening.

Still working on getting my hands fully functional again. But I should be able to resume a raiding schedule again. Holley and I are retooling the Destructive Affection comic. It's now going to be funny.

As for pressing psychological matters. I've taken a great many steps to reduce and repair damage. I don't believe it will be as great a problem as it was in the past. I appreciate the support I did receive. You guys know who you are.

This blog will become more diverse in it's topics as I hope to expand my writing . I'm also starting a new job, this one should be easier on my health.

The last thing I want to mention is a close friend of mine is returning home today. Elder Nick Fowler is coming home from Ohio today. I worried alot about his safety; among other things. It's good to know he's back in Utah where people don't shoot each other for expressing their faith. (Although at the risk of attracting ire I must say they are hardly open minded about disscussion.)
I've started to write a suitable adventure to celebrate his return. I'm not sure what it's about yet; but I've been toying with the idea of a stampede of Tarrasque's. The mythic time sink caverns or perhaps my personal favorite: invasion of sex-depraved catholic schoolgirls in short skirts. All very dangerous.

Hiatus

Due to medical issues my blog is on hiatus. Thank you for your support at this time. If I return I promise you many great stories. I will be giving admin status over to Holley in the event any announcements need to be made.

Moments that are fragile.

How honest is a person expected to be? Not merely in his day to day. How many of us lie to ourselves? We say that something isn't as bad as people think. We marginalize things bit by bit. Making less and less until our views no longer match reality. Even here in this blog where I have supposedly set out to unearth the truth I use metaphors, hintings and the vague. I suppose I could claim creative purposes but I know thats not true. I'm going to tell a very short story. and then explain what it has to do with me.

Long ago in a valley kingdom there were two warriors. The light warrior was kind, empathic and had a love of helping others. The dark warrior was lustful, aggresive and ruthless. Both warriors were formiddable in the kingdoms defense. Even a dark warrior had in his heart the desire for a home and peace. Even the light warrior enjoyed the thrill of battle, victory and defeated. Even being paragons of their respective idealologies they were not one sided.

The king grew old and died without an heir. The kingdom was thrown into upheaval, eventually the kings brother is found and brought to kingdom. But the brother is not wise or fair. It does not take long for the new king to anger the two mighty warriors. Each warrior plots the demise of the corrupt ruler. One seeks to displace him for the good of the people, the other seeks to displace him for his own pride and ambition.

The warriors had great respect for one another. Over the years they had sparred many times, but fighting for the same kingdom it was never in anger or to the death. Each raised an army, the light warrior arrived first with his army. He forced his way into the castle using the element of surprise and took the castle.
When the dark warrior arrived the castle had already been secured and the light warrior made king. Rather then fight his friend he and his army returned and disbanded in the town.

The light warrior did not have an easy time. Supporters of the kings brother now in exile waged a war on the light warriors men. They fought and fought and as they did more and more people began to cry out agains the light warrior-king. The dark warrior came forward and defeated them both. Took the crown and banished both sides. Some said the Dark warrior was cruel, some said he was fair. But lurking in the background was the light warrior ready to strike again.


As interesting as that story could become I won't bother finishing it.
I am still sick. some of you know this; others do not. It isn't just my left hand anymore but now my right. Each day the headaches grow worse. I feel hot and sweaty in a cold room. When I close my eyes I feel terrible visions, I'm being drawn back into a hell of my own creation. My psyche was fragmented before... and it's like I feel it being fragmented again. Slowly my thoughts are drifting from me even when I try to cling tightly to them. I see painful memories when I close my eyes, visions of a future denied to me.

The battle has not ended, but it has changed. I understand one thing that changes everything now but I do not know how it changes this.
I was fighting the wrong enemy. I want my hands back. I want my body, spirit and mind to be mine again. Parts that have been broken off my psyche to be reborn.

I desire so much to be free, freedom might not come to me until my death.
Freedom my pain, freedom from the burden of my mind......
ugh. I am so very sick. I'll complete this thought later.

Denial is not Victory.

Sun Tzu once said that if you denied an enemy battle then he could not win. It's a basic concept that if your weak you should avoid battle. But to deny the battle also takes away opportunity for victory. When you rest your enemy can do the same. It's basic tactics to never allow your enemy rest. (Unless to encourage sloth.)
As the pieces move across the board you get a feel for the game. The agressor and the defender become defined; the enemy is not always in front of you. But sometimes true enemy is your own heart. Can you be ruthlesss and retain your humanity? Can you give mercy and sympathy to a deadly enemy?

I lost the use of my left arm last week. I awoke and it was numb, along with my leg. My left eye is blurry and I have a very strong headache.. on my left side.
Even as the ghosts from my past come back to haunt me I can feel my enemy gaining strength again. When I am strong he is weak, when I am weak he is strong. It is not the time for me to pour my soul into this battle, it fast approachs but I must deny it the chance. I deny because I cannot win, and within that denial I cannot lose either.

You cannot kill someone that is a part of you without diminshing what you are. But can you master it? Control it? Compromise with it? Co-exist?
I'm tired of having darkness cloud my soul, it grows because I won't face it.
I have stared into the dark, into the shadow. I have felt the warmth and I have felt the cold. My scars aren't merely body or soul. But deeper still it taints the world surrounding me, the wound widens and deepens as time passses.

My choice is victory, I will not win by defeating evil. I will win by mastering myself... it is a mastery that is lifelong in attaining and more rewarding then anything else this life can offer. I have chased too many snares, fallen into too many pits and will not falter again so easily. I'm waiting for the wind to change, then my blade will be drawn.

Goodnight. I'll write more tomorrow I hope.

Accomplishment, The most important list.

Well I've been promising it for quite some time. But honestly I've been slightly afraid to post my list of things I want to do in my life. Some are silly, some could even be considered offensive to people. I decided that I just want to be what I am and not worry about what others think.
Most of the items on this list are pretty old, a few as recent as last night. I think it's a fair reflection of the direction I want to take in life. Presented here now are the first 50. I'll post the next 10 later. I believe when I am finished I should have close to 100.
My goal is 2 a year.

1. Write and publish a book of every major Genre.
2. Get a doctorate.
3. Adopt a Child.
4. Ride a motorbike the length of the Great Wall of China.
5. Visit all 5 continents
6. Get married
7. Visit Stonehenge
8. Learn to speak Japanese fluently.
9. Live in Japan for at least half a year.
10. Swim in every ocean.
11. Become a skilled Zen archer.
12. Master 3 forms of martial arts.
13. Visit the Dao Mai.
14. Learn to Snow Board.
15. Visit Interlockken Switzerland.
16. Have a threesome with 2 girls.
17. See the hall of mirrors in France.
18. Raft the Colorado River.
19. Go ice fishing in Alaska.
20. See the Grand Canyon.
21. Own a house.
22. Be in an airborne airplane.
23. Design one video game.
24. Hunt for Yeti in Nepal.
25. Learn to Surf
26. Scuba Dive the Great Barrier Reef.
27. See the Pyramids of Giza
28. Become a highly proficient swimmer
29. Run a 5-minute mile.
30. Go hang-gliding
31. See a bullfight in Seville with (Zhuangzi)
32. Be the lead in a play.
33. Learn to play the Piano
34. Visit Loch Ness
35. Be a national Magic: TG champion.
36. Protest injustice in DC.
37. See a Broadway show.
38. Attend Ashida Kim’s Ninjutsu training camp.
39. Go to Mardi gras in Louisiana.
40. Build a massive room sized Lego castle.
41. Learn the proper Japanese Tea Ceremony.
42. Be an extra in a Hollywood movie or TV show,
43. Publish a D&D Module.
44. Have a WoW item named after me. (Or my avatar)
45. See Bon Jovi in concert; get his autograph.
46. Meet Bill Clinton; get his autograph.
47. Be a Convention guest.
48. See the North Pole.
49. Meet Michael Stackpole: Get his autograph.
50. Tame and raise a baby cockatiel