I'm having a slow slow nervous breakdown.
I can't find a job in this god forsaken city.
I've spent all my money getting my car to work; if only I could afford to register and put gas in it.
My internet is getting turned off tomorrow (later today)
There is an amazing pill I can take to completely remove the agonizing pain in my head. A shame I can't AFFORD the stupid thing.
Clinton is ruining any chance Obama might have in the general election by running him out of money and polarizing the party.
I really like this girl, but I turn into a sputtering retard whenever I get the rare chance to speak to her.
I miss my cat.
I am at the moment getting completely worked, which is why I'm changing gears. Hopefully in the next week or so I'll be able to move back to bountiful where I know people. Plus the added bonus of not being around people that make me crazy.
It's not a foolish dream, to want a smart loving girlfriend; a nice apartment with a kitty. A cold mountain dew after a hard days work. I don't know why it has to be so hard for me to get things moving again. Anyway since it's going to be a few weeks until I get my internet back I thought I should say something.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Victimless Identity
I hate being sick. I hate it with a passion that transcends reason.
I hate that I get dizzy from a few minutes of writing, or playing a game. I hate that there are times am incapacitated, times when my body weakens and fails me and times when my mind and concentration fall apart. But most of all I hate that is what my life is about now.
My life used to be about accomplishment and adventure. I used to travel the world, I used to compete with other highly skilled individuals. I used to debate on subjects of great complexity with equally great intellects... I loved when my life was about that.
When did my life become about something else? When did it became all about trying to stay alive and traverse emotional land mines? When did becoming a victim become my identity? When people look at me they don't see a brilliant mind or a kind soul; they see a victim who can't hold himself upright anymore.
I deserve it, I really do. It's all people see because I haven't been anything else in a long time.
Not anymore; anyone who treats me less then what I truly am can shove off. People will soon discover that making assumptions about me will result in an embarrassing amount of fallacy.
I hate that I get dizzy from a few minutes of writing, or playing a game. I hate that there are times am incapacitated, times when my body weakens and fails me and times when my mind and concentration fall apart. But most of all I hate that is what my life is about now.
My life used to be about accomplishment and adventure. I used to travel the world, I used to compete with other highly skilled individuals. I used to debate on subjects of great complexity with equally great intellects... I loved when my life was about that.
When did my life become about something else? When did it became all about trying to stay alive and traverse emotional land mines? When did becoming a victim become my identity? When people look at me they don't see a brilliant mind or a kind soul; they see a victim who can't hold himself upright anymore.
I deserve it, I really do. It's all people see because I haven't been anything else in a long time.
Not anymore; anyone who treats me less then what I truly am can shove off. People will soon discover that making assumptions about me will result in an embarrassing amount of fallacy.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Limit Break
I haven't slept well in the past three days; in fact I've barely slept at all.
The reasons for this wouldn't make sense to someone who doesn't know me; but I'm quite a terrible insomniac. In order to sleep at all I need to take sleeping pills. The problem with said sleeping pills is once I take them I zonk out and nobody can wake me for 8-9 hours.
How does this relate to not sleeping for 3 days? It's simple. Nobody else in my house can legally drive right now... which means I have to run my dad to work at 5:30 AM. This is a problem since I can't fall asleep before 1:00 AM even on the best nights. (Even with the aid of sleeping pills) That means the only way for me to fulfill my promise and responsibility was to go without sleeping.
Needless to say this had a double meaning for me. I wanted to push myself to my limits again. I wanted to challenge myself in ways I haven't been able to in years. This is especially true after the last blog post I put up. A couple of days without sleep is no big deal right?
The problem however was this morning a major storm rode in. It wasn't that bad on the way into Salt Lake... but the conditions on the way back were scary to say the least. I couldn't see the lines on the freeway and I could only barely see the concrete dividers on the sides of the freeway. To make matters worse I came close to hydroplaning at least once; maybe twice. Conditions made worse by intense morning traffic.
So that my friends is my limit for the moment. My nerves are completely shot. I want to sleep but it's unlikely that I will be able to for a few more hours. By then everyone will be awake and it will be too loud to fall asleep... I don't really know what happens at that point... but damn I am tired.
The reasons for this wouldn't make sense to someone who doesn't know me; but I'm quite a terrible insomniac. In order to sleep at all I need to take sleeping pills. The problem with said sleeping pills is once I take them I zonk out and nobody can wake me for 8-9 hours.
How does this relate to not sleeping for 3 days? It's simple. Nobody else in my house can legally drive right now... which means I have to run my dad to work at 5:30 AM. This is a problem since I can't fall asleep before 1:00 AM even on the best nights. (Even with the aid of sleeping pills) That means the only way for me to fulfill my promise and responsibility was to go without sleeping.
Needless to say this had a double meaning for me. I wanted to push myself to my limits again. I wanted to challenge myself in ways I haven't been able to in years. This is especially true after the last blog post I put up. A couple of days without sleep is no big deal right?
The problem however was this morning a major storm rode in. It wasn't that bad on the way into Salt Lake... but the conditions on the way back were scary to say the least. I couldn't see the lines on the freeway and I could only barely see the concrete dividers on the sides of the freeway. To make matters worse I came close to hydroplaning at least once; maybe twice. Conditions made worse by intense morning traffic.
So that my friends is my limit for the moment. My nerves are completely shot. I want to sleep but it's unlikely that I will be able to for a few more hours. By then everyone will be awake and it will be too loud to fall asleep... I don't really know what happens at that point... but damn I am tired.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Tabula Rasa
The body is predictable; in times of long pain and stress the arteries clog and harden. Sleep becomes disturbed, the muscles feel heavy and the body becomes lethargic. Concentration becomes difficult to maintain and generally everything goes to hell in a hand basket.
It has been long argued that human beings are blank slates. That we are programmed by our surroundings as opposed to an innate sense of identity. The complexity of the situation is both are true. But I think it would be meaningless to try and live if humans did not have control over their own destiny.
For much of my life I was able to dispel the notion of pain or tiredness; my will sufficed in overcoming any challenge I was faced with. It became easier to pass responsibility for my destiny off to fate, circumstances or individuals. Facing the greatest challenge of my life I did not rise to the occasion as some have... but instead I gave up everything I believed in and let my life collapse on itself.
The emotional pain has long been secondary to the physical. Even mild sunlight causes me unbearable agony... sometimes. I find my body so tired I cannot move... but only sometimes. The patterns change with seeming randomness... at times I am perfectly normal... and days like today the pain is almost unbearable.
I keenly feel the sense of loss... that I once had the will to overcome anything and I piddled it away for someone who did not deserve it. My only consolation is it did expose the weakness... a fatal flaw that I could not overcome. both time and effort have not dispelled it... nor do I expect them to ever. It is woven into the earliest part of my life history that I would feel this emptiness in my heart... that I need someone to love me.
It is a twisted irony that of all the people I have loved... each and every one of them had trouble loving me in return. The more I would open and invite... the farther away they would go. Perhaps I sensed in them the same emptiness that yearned to be filled... or maybe I read every intention wrong; I may never understand for sure.
Somehow I have held onto the hope that I will find someone who understands me or at very least is willing to put everything on the table and try. It is because love is a great healer... it mends wounds so deep that it seems almost miraculous. Not merely my wounds... but the wounds of those I care about... A long time ago I had the heart to love and heal many people...
These words are spoken by not merely a broken heart, but a soul fractured with pain. The man inside who feels robbed of his destiny is screaming for release; Screaming to be free of the prison he has fallen into. I sway between the strong and kind man I once was... and the tormented victim I have become... neither holds sway because my will has not been sufficient.
I repeat my words over and over; a meaningless cycle of rising up and falling back down when my will falters or the actions of another tear open a psychological wound.
It is funny... with my level of tactical skill and psychological knowledge I have the most trouble acknowledging that the two are separate problems: A partially healed tear in my psyche and debilitating migraines. One is within my control... the other isn't... yet. That I am incomplete as a person weakens me to the migraines... and erodes my ability to function with them; I am certain of that.
I know intellectually that the two are different; yet my mind feels compelled when I am under the effects of a migraine to tear open the still-healing wounds in in heart and psyche. I cannot forget the feelings of being betrayed... the white hot hatred and jealousy burning inside me.... the crushing despair of being abandoned at the moment I was most vulnerable.
Like I said before, this is a slow death for the body. If I do not overcome it eventually it will kill me. But the man I was screams to be released... however the kind person I was will be completely destroyed by the cruel circumstances in my current life. The life I have now is tepid, mediocre and safe... the life that I yearn to return to will pit me against untold challenges... something that is daunting for a man who can barely sit upright during a migraine attack.
We are born mostly blank... our souls unblemished by pain, sorrow and regret; some of that is expected and the resistance helps build us up. But when we choose to live in fear of our own potential, in fear of our own emotions then the accumulations threaten to destroy us... and we rightly deserve it.
It has been long argued that human beings are blank slates. That we are programmed by our surroundings as opposed to an innate sense of identity. The complexity of the situation is both are true. But I think it would be meaningless to try and live if humans did not have control over their own destiny.
For much of my life I was able to dispel the notion of pain or tiredness; my will sufficed in overcoming any challenge I was faced with. It became easier to pass responsibility for my destiny off to fate, circumstances or individuals. Facing the greatest challenge of my life I did not rise to the occasion as some have... but instead I gave up everything I believed in and let my life collapse on itself.
The emotional pain has long been secondary to the physical. Even mild sunlight causes me unbearable agony... sometimes. I find my body so tired I cannot move... but only sometimes. The patterns change with seeming randomness... at times I am perfectly normal... and days like today the pain is almost unbearable.
I keenly feel the sense of loss... that I once had the will to overcome anything and I piddled it away for someone who did not deserve it. My only consolation is it did expose the weakness... a fatal flaw that I could not overcome. both time and effort have not dispelled it... nor do I expect them to ever. It is woven into the earliest part of my life history that I would feel this emptiness in my heart... that I need someone to love me.
It is a twisted irony that of all the people I have loved... each and every one of them had trouble loving me in return. The more I would open and invite... the farther away they would go. Perhaps I sensed in them the same emptiness that yearned to be filled... or maybe I read every intention wrong; I may never understand for sure.
Somehow I have held onto the hope that I will find someone who understands me or at very least is willing to put everything on the table and try. It is because love is a great healer... it mends wounds so deep that it seems almost miraculous. Not merely my wounds... but the wounds of those I care about... A long time ago I had the heart to love and heal many people...
These words are spoken by not merely a broken heart, but a soul fractured with pain. The man inside who feels robbed of his destiny is screaming for release; Screaming to be free of the prison he has fallen into. I sway between the strong and kind man I once was... and the tormented victim I have become... neither holds sway because my will has not been sufficient.
I repeat my words over and over; a meaningless cycle of rising up and falling back down when my will falters or the actions of another tear open a psychological wound.
It is funny... with my level of tactical skill and psychological knowledge I have the most trouble acknowledging that the two are separate problems: A partially healed tear in my psyche and debilitating migraines. One is within my control... the other isn't... yet. That I am incomplete as a person weakens me to the migraines... and erodes my ability to function with them; I am certain of that.
I know intellectually that the two are different; yet my mind feels compelled when I am under the effects of a migraine to tear open the still-healing wounds in in heart and psyche. I cannot forget the feelings of being betrayed... the white hot hatred and jealousy burning inside me.... the crushing despair of being abandoned at the moment I was most vulnerable.
Like I said before, this is a slow death for the body. If I do not overcome it eventually it will kill me. But the man I was screams to be released... however the kind person I was will be completely destroyed by the cruel circumstances in my current life. The life I have now is tepid, mediocre and safe... the life that I yearn to return to will pit me against untold challenges... something that is daunting for a man who can barely sit upright during a migraine attack.
We are born mostly blank... our souls unblemished by pain, sorrow and regret; some of that is expected and the resistance helps build us up. But when we choose to live in fear of our own potential, in fear of our own emotions then the accumulations threaten to destroy us... and we rightly deserve it.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Heero! Come kill me!
I started watching Gundam Wing in Japanese for the first time last night. I was feeling nostalgia from spending all of last week in Logan with Craig and couldn't think of anything that defined my high school years better.
Almost immediately I was absorbed by studying Relena; you see I was always a huge fan of Relena in the later part of the show. End-of-show Relena was fearless and kind but the girl I was watching wasn't what I remembered or expected.
I don't know why, but I never noticed the struggles or pain she was experiencing in the first "act" of the show. It may have been the English voice actors didn't portray the emotions well; or perhaps I wasn't receptive to it before. Regardless she fascinated me this time around; in many ways she is exactly like Heero and acted as a window into his otherwise murky emotions. But what really interested me was how she acted. She hid behind an aura of civility and politeness; it would be cruel to call her two-faced but I can't think of a better way to say it.
Watching Relena stand there asking Heero to kill her elicited a question, Does she really want to die? or does she just want Heero to give her attention?
I really pondered that question for awhile. The obvious answer is she wants Heero's attention. But I really think to stand there like that, some part of you must welcome death. The answer then must be both. The fact that Heero saves her only leads credence to my theory that Relena and Heero have mirrored souls.
Heero and Relena are really interesting to study, not just because they are similar (internally, while having completely different external personalities.) but because they complete each other.
I personally think that there is no such thing as perfect "love" or relationships, but my ideal is somewhere close to Heero and Relena's relationship: Internally the same but externally different. A person cannot be complete by himself, he needs someone to counterbalance him... to make his half a whole. If two people share a similar soul... if they can understand each other in a way that transcends words... that is better then wealth, or common interests, personality or intellect. Something like that cannot be "created" with all the doctor Phil's and hack self-help books in the world. You can't find it on E-harmony and if you let it go you will never have another chance at it again... such an event is once in a lifetime.
Heero and Relena carried a lot of baggage into the later episodes... yet concordantly they supported each other. Relena gave Heero a reason to live... and fight; Heero showed Relena that she didn't need to hide herself behind a polite facade... and even more then that he inspired in her heart the ideal of total peace.
I think that whatever the personal pain, whatever the struggle happens to be... it's better to share with someone who can truly understand you. Someone who wants you for you and not an idealized version of you or a facade. Many people fell in love with Relena's facade... but only one man loved her for what she was inside. In that one area Heero and I are completely alike... we care more for the heart and truth of a matter... then a lie or facade.
Almost immediately I was absorbed by studying Relena; you see I was always a huge fan of Relena in the later part of the show. End-of-show Relena was fearless and kind but the girl I was watching wasn't what I remembered or expected.
I don't know why, but I never noticed the struggles or pain she was experiencing in the first "act" of the show. It may have been the English voice actors didn't portray the emotions well; or perhaps I wasn't receptive to it before. Regardless she fascinated me this time around; in many ways she is exactly like Heero and acted as a window into his otherwise murky emotions. But what really interested me was how she acted. She hid behind an aura of civility and politeness; it would be cruel to call her two-faced but I can't think of a better way to say it.
Watching Relena stand there asking Heero to kill her elicited a question, Does she really want to die? or does she just want Heero to give her attention?
I really pondered that question for awhile. The obvious answer is she wants Heero's attention. But I really think to stand there like that, some part of you must welcome death. The answer then must be both. The fact that Heero saves her only leads credence to my theory that Relena and Heero have mirrored souls.
Heero and Relena are really interesting to study, not just because they are similar (internally, while having completely different external personalities.) but because they complete each other.
I personally think that there is no such thing as perfect "love" or relationships, but my ideal is somewhere close to Heero and Relena's relationship: Internally the same but externally different. A person cannot be complete by himself, he needs someone to counterbalance him... to make his half a whole. If two people share a similar soul... if they can understand each other in a way that transcends words... that is better then wealth, or common interests, personality or intellect. Something like that cannot be "created" with all the doctor Phil's and hack self-help books in the world. You can't find it on E-harmony and if you let it go you will never have another chance at it again... such an event is once in a lifetime.
Heero and Relena carried a lot of baggage into the later episodes... yet concordantly they supported each other. Relena gave Heero a reason to live... and fight; Heero showed Relena that she didn't need to hide herself behind a polite facade... and even more then that he inspired in her heart the ideal of total peace.
I think that whatever the personal pain, whatever the struggle happens to be... it's better to share with someone who can truly understand you. Someone who wants you for you and not an idealized version of you or a facade. Many people fell in love with Relena's facade... but only one man loved her for what she was inside. In that one area Heero and I are completely alike... we care more for the heart and truth of a matter... then a lie or facade.
Friday, March 14, 2008
The Grand Finale
For the past 6-7 years and 35 levels worth of game-time... I've persued a single and very very long story Arc in my roleplaying setting.
I'm saddened that the end of that story approaches; but the time is perfect.
My players are moving away, starting careers , married or what have you. And the novel inspired by this setting is proceeding at a decent rate; with all that and the impending release of 4th edition now is a good time to bring this story to a conclusion.
On top of that, upheaval in my life has brought about a shift in my storytelling style. In many ways it is impossible for me to tell this story any longer. In the early days of the arc I was inspired by the changes in my life to explore new themes... many of which are no longer appropriate to the life I have now. Many of the people who inspired me are long gone, or have hurt me with their actions. Some of the ideals that I wove into my story became disillusioned. Like a million artists before me my life was catalyst for my craft.
It is only right that with a major shift in my life comes an end to this era of roleplaying. I will find new players, write new stories and explore new ideas. In a few weeks my players will gather from all around the state; and for many this will be their last adventure. Suffice to say it's a mixed bag for me. To conclude such a magnificant story leaves me alittle heartbroken, but I now have a free canvas to start again.
I'm saddened that the end of that story approaches; but the time is perfect.
My players are moving away, starting careers , married or what have you. And the novel inspired by this setting is proceeding at a decent rate; with all that and the impending release of 4th edition now is a good time to bring this story to a conclusion.
On top of that, upheaval in my life has brought about a shift in my storytelling style. In many ways it is impossible for me to tell this story any longer. In the early days of the arc I was inspired by the changes in my life to explore new themes... many of which are no longer appropriate to the life I have now. Many of the people who inspired me are long gone, or have hurt me with their actions. Some of the ideals that I wove into my story became disillusioned. Like a million artists before me my life was catalyst for my craft.
It is only right that with a major shift in my life comes an end to this era of roleplaying. I will find new players, write new stories and explore new ideas. In a few weeks my players will gather from all around the state; and for many this will be their last adventure. Suffice to say it's a mixed bag for me. To conclude such a magnificant story leaves me alittle heartbroken, but I now have a free canvas to start again.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Rest in peace Gary.
Earlier today one of my role models, the father of Role playing; Gary Gygax passed away.
Like so many other young writers I was introduced to the world of fantasy by his works. I would sit and watch my uncle play every week when I was young. Eventually I would become a player, DM, and bright-eyed designer. Role playing taught me to overcome my shyness, and how to tell a great story.
I owe this man a great debt, his work inspired and will inspire me well into the future. As it inspires my gamer peers at Penny Arcade and Order of the Stick. I know that his work will live on in me, and many many others... somehow it lightens the pain in my heart to realize that.
I hereby dedicate this weeks adventure to his memory. Don't worry Gary I'll make you proud with this one.
Like so many other young writers I was introduced to the world of fantasy by his works. I would sit and watch my uncle play every week when I was young. Eventually I would become a player, DM, and bright-eyed designer. Role playing taught me to overcome my shyness, and how to tell a great story.
I owe this man a great debt, his work inspired and will inspire me well into the future. As it inspires my gamer peers at Penny Arcade and Order of the Stick. I know that his work will live on in me, and many many others... somehow it lightens the pain in my heart to realize that.
I hereby dedicate this weeks adventure to his memory. Don't worry Gary I'll make you proud with this one.
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