Design Theory, Plus some meaningless background.

One of the reasons I haven't been able to complete the novel based of my setting is a lack of complete design. The original ideas for my world and it's inhabitants were first put to paper when I was around 12 or 13. Most of my ideas were born from an active imagination and no experience in design or effective storytelling. The most fundamental aspects of which still exist even as I redesign it today. Over the years by storytelling, roleplaying and creative thought I have put flesh to my world. It's gone from the raw insight of a child to the whiteboard of an angst filled teenager and then into something unexpected. With every insight I have gleamed in my life it has grown. Every culture I explore, every book I read, every person I talk to. Each of them adds to my collective knowledge and bit by bit the world created within my imagination reflects that.

When I was young I wrote my first short story. Elfrea the Dark Elf. Being poor and isolated culturally I had few early influences on my storytelling. To that point I had read Lloyd Alexanders "The book of three" and Ursula LeGuins "The Wizard of Earthsea". I had a nintendo but no fantasy games, no roleplaying games. If memory serves I had Tetris, Mario and Mega Man 3. Elves do no appear in any of those games or books. I had a single Magic: The Gathering Card. It was some kind of a crappy dwarf that made a creature with power 2 or less unblockable. I keep searching my mind for where I gleamed the insight for that first story but it isn't there. My only conclusion is that my uncle told me about it. In the later formative years he inspired me play roleplaying games and read fantasy novels.

Elfrea was a dark elf as the name says. He was an elite ranger who was training to be a griffon rider when he was framed for murdering his teacher. Elfrea suspected his rival Kain had planted his sword at the scene and killed the teacher himself. The story starts with Elfrea meeting a goblin trader in the forest. The trader possess a bauble that will enhance elfreas magic enough to sneak back into Theldar and murder Kain. However the Goblin is not satisfied with Elfreas payment and attacks him. Elfrea kills him with his magic and takes the stone.
As he prepares to make his escape Elfrea hears a sound nearby and decides to check it out. It's a troll named Gesstol who is wounded and fleeing into the woods from humans. Elfrea and Gesstol fight to stalemate until the humans arrive. Realizing their mutual survival was at stake they work together and drive the humans out of the woods.


Now. I remember this story word for word. It's imprinted deeply into my soul for reasons I cannot describe. It's the feeling of a first love, a first kiss, the first time you "really" see a sunset. But looking back on it there are alot of minor issues. For example. Goblin Merchant? Exotic to an 11-12 year old but not so much to me. Kain the elven ranger? Not very elven sounding to me.
Why would an elite ranger need a stone to sneak back into a forest city? It's a dear story to me but I'm afraid it's not good enough to be in my setting the way it was. Ever since that day I have had my own internal view of what a "troll" or an "elf" was. In my story Gesstol and Elfrea used their isolation and exile to form a powerful friendship. Trolls were green and large with various tusks. Gesstol had no tusks (They were cut off when he was a slave) and was thinner then the average troll. Elves were innate magic users and experts with bow and sword prefering to conceal themselves in the trees then fight any potential enemies directly.

Both of those themes are common in fantasy but to me then they were exotic and new. I was caught up in the idea of a world of fantasy and didn't realize that internally I was already becoming a writer. I knew the background of my characters as if by instinct. I did not need to draft or plot or outline. My characters were who they were and they were that way for a reason. Even something as small as Gesstols missing tusks made it into my story. The pacing could use some work and I doubt an elite elf ranger should take more half a page of fighting to kill a goblin. (Which it did. If I rewrote the story I would change it to" "Elfrea cleanly sliced off the goblins head, averting his gaze as the derranged creature fell to the forest floor.")

Theldar the home of the elves made it into my setting and so did the idea of "dark elves".
My logically view was a society that was "good" would never kill if they had the choice, instead they punished severe crimes with banishment. Hence the elf became "dark" or exiled.
Later however I read the dragonlance chronicles which pretty much use the same idea. Even later after that one of my friends desired playing a Drow Elf made popular by forgotten realms.
After some issues (this was 2nd Ed still) I allowed him to play. One thing that became apparent to me right away was that drow did not fit my setting and over time I removed them. (By plague and lynching to keep the storyline consistant.) Eventually I demoted drow to a lower station of myth and rumor. In my new (and cleaner) setting there are no drow. I have returned to the earlier idea of "Dark Elves" with a new twist...

In the redesign it was apparent I wanted to add new cultures to my setting. Among them a nordic-themed people. One of the things the nordic mythologies have going for them is elves. Elves that are colorful in history but also divided into Light and Dark. Bumping into this recently brought back the memory of Elfrea the Dark Elf. I realized then the potential for an even more interesting culture. Take the "Dark Elves" of nordic myth and exile them to the world of Drakkor away from their Light cousins. Those survivors hide themselves underground and in forests humans dare not travel through. As time passes these wood elves and their cousins the grey elves exile their criminal populations. The Dark elves of legend and the exiled wood and grey elves have much in common and form an alliance and then finally a society. Intermingling and creating a meritocracy of assassins, magical killers and master spies. Blended by generations of interbreeding the Dark Elves are a unique hybrid with a vastly different society then their cousins the wood elves.

Not only did I get a nordic themed race but it blended seamlessly into my existing ideas and work. The bombastic arrogant light elves need not change from the nordic legends I plucked them from; and it is one less thing I need to worry about. Not all of my setting is based on mythology, the significant bulk of it is in fact completely original. Yes it is still filled with Tolkien-esque dwarves and elves. But the dwarves of my setting aren't greedy and aloof. My dwarves are showoffs and devoted allies. They launch massive projects to better themselves and their friends... and they smirk and showoff the entire time. My elves defy the typical norms for fantasy elves... the mordathal elves use crossbows and swords... they tatoo their bodies and thirst for war over any kind of peace. My trolls don't have an island accent or throw axes with pinpoint accuracy. Nor are they massive killing machines with no brains. Drakkori Trolls speak their own language, have a modest society and frown upon outsiders pre-judging them. The Avian (birdmen) races of my setting are varied and have unique personalities, yes I borrowed the idea from the japanese "Tengu" but I gave it a flavor and style all my own. The goverments and cultures of my world vary immensely. For example in one corner there is a country ruled by evil dragons who war constantly with a cadre of demons. (who have a nearby portal to their homeworld Kilrah.)

The ideas of my youth were not stupid or bad. Some in fact are so original I feel very compelled to use them. What I lacked then was the skill to use those ideas to design something new. Dark elves had been done (By Dragonlance to my knowledge... maybe others.) in that style before. But I am certain nobody has Nordic Dark elves in a society with exiled Wood and Grey Elves.
I'm really enjoying putting together a sourcebook. For years this entire world has been in my head and in my heart. The only way others could glimpse at it was when I let them. It would be a thousand kinds of relief if I could get all of it onto paper where others can read it without me.
More important they can read the words and add to them. Right now it's my world. But someday I want that world to belong to everyone... be it through books, comics, movies or games. Anyway I need some sleep. I have alot of work to do tomorrow.

Head Trama

Falling on your head really hurts. No really.

Temporary memory loss is extremely awkward. No really.

When someone asks you what your name is and you can't remember AND your stone-cold sober something is wrong.

Yes. I have the worst headache ever. So people don't ask me a million times it was a towel someone left on the stairs. I slipped when I was running upstairs for more office space.

While recovering I had some time to think about various things. Being injured creates a desire to be pampered and loved. It's a keen vulnerability in me already; compounded I'm not entirely sure what to say. But when it boils down to it; my most basic desire to be cared for and to be safe. This flies against my desires to be free and passionate. In essence my heart wants to be bound down and to be cared for while being free to express myself. Like all internal conflicts it rages back and forth one taking hold for a time before another takes it's place. Only now I feel the desire to be loved and protected more strongly. It could easily be age that causes this; or my recent trama to the head. Whichever the cause it dampens my desire to take risk and take chances. Call it a nesting desire or a desire to "settle down". Maybe it will pass and my usually flair for freedom and isolation will gain ascendance.

I honesty think there is no more important choice in this world then a choice of mate. You are who you marry (or date). The personality, skills and tastes of your mate rub off on you over time. Like some kind of derranged stockholm syndrome your sympathy for your mate grows over time. In a relationship where one member suffers from mental disorders the other is more then twice as likely to suffer from a mental disorder then he/she would be otherwise. One of the more interesting traits within inter relationships studies is that often one partner is "stronger" or more dominant then the other more "passive". Generally the alpha members values, beliefs and ideals are accepted as "truths" and the passives beliefs (compatible or otherwise) are devalued or supressed. There is no harm in this, and the advantages to a uniform belief system are too numerous to count here. But it gives me a moment of pause.

If I were to marry someone of a different religion then me would I convert her? Could I condone such a thing? Would it perhaps be better to find someone who also shared strong beliefs and a strong willpower. Then instead of one being dominate it would be closer to my ideal love. A partnership.

You see a partner is different then you. As strong or stronger. Enough shared values to be close but different enough to keep a spark of conflict. Conflict is more productive and useful then it appears. It keeps the lines of communication open (if your smart about it), promotes more flexible and diverse thinking, spices up romance and allows the couple to reach conclusions a single person (No matter how wise) could reach on his own. A lover is your best friend and worst enemy. A wall to bounce ideas off, The scabbard to your naked blade... to hold you back when your about to go too far. Or to protect you when you've fallen or failed. An ideal lover does not worry about what divides you but rather the threads of love and fate that bring you together. In all people and for all eternity there will be differences: Religion, idealology, political affiliation, class and race. People will forever seek reasons to fight and not to love and cherish each other.

An ideal lover puts you before her. She would gladly sacrifice her life for you. And she knows you feel the same about her. A heart that is filled with fear cannot be filled with love. The love is displaced until the fear dispelled. There is no breach of trust between ideal lovers. The rules are unspoken and clearly established. There is no flirting with the line, to flaunt it is to break the most sacred of unspoken laws. That is truly what an ideal relationship is about. The unspoken.

To those who can feel others the breach of trust is double-edged. You feel your own pain at the betryal and you feel the pain of your betrayer. Of the one you loved. Be that covanent spoken or unspoken. When you love someone it creates a bond that words cannot explain or express. To break it is to lose a tranquility and a peace that can never be restored. When you are betrayed and your lover crosses that unspoken line there is no recourse in logic, no words that make sense. It is what it is and it cannot be undone. The scars it causes are consigned forever to live just under the surface.

To say then that trust is essential is an understatement. Trust is everything. If you cannot put your back to your lovers without doubt then she is not for you. It can be said that true love is eternal, it transcends the mortal shell of a body and it reaches to a world beyond the sight of men. In such a place there isn't just love, but there is only love.

Some people love the idea of love. To idea of being cared for. Some people are enarmored of the concept of eternal and undying lust. After all lust is not a bad thing. Lust is a fire that consumes the soul and burns away pain and sadness. Lust can break apathy or thaw a frigid and chilled heart. Yet for all that lust is not love. The two can exist at once but one does not equate to the other. You can love someone to the depths of your being and have no sexual or romantic desire whatsoever. And yet when you have both at once, when your bodies, souls and minds are locked together not just as lovers of the body... but lovers of the soul... that is an ideal lover. To love on every level that a person is capable of... a body... a soul and a mind. Do I still yearn to be free? Yes I would be lying if I said I didn't. But far greater then that I wish to commit myself in my entirety to one soul, one body and one mind.

But hell I fell down a flight of stairs two days ago. Who am I to know?

Two Drink Min.

When I was younger I remember the "thinking critically" subsections at the end of every chapter. I never understood exactly what it was to think "critically". I understand thinking rationally or conservatively. I've spent more time being social the last week or so then I have in recent memory. Yet today I get home around 2:00; sit down and pour myself a glass of Rum and Coke with the intention of relaxing. I have to decide once and for all what I am doing with this year and to "think critically". Yet as soon as I sit down I am assualted by an eerie sense of loneliness. I yearn for a good conversation or the quiet unassuming gaze of a friend over a chess board. I want to watch DVDs and giggle at cheesy one liners. Yet I am getting myself ready to move across the country to support a cause that may or may not succeed with people I don't know. It's a scary thought to realize I would be alone and without a safety net.

So here I sit with a mixed drink that could use alittle more pepsi and no idea what I am going to do with my life. I tried talking to my grandparents about it and it made me feel even more hopeless. They don't believe the world can change and doubt I'll be able to accomplish any different. When I lay at night I think of how hopeless my cause really is. I'm thousands of miles away and my income as a writer isn't enough to live on yet; not to mention actually getting back east to do something. The few connections I have aren't much help and some of them are might even be pitfalls I hadn't imagined.

The glass is half empty now. All those critical thinking exercises plus a glass of bad rum and I have nothing. Everyone I know is going back to school and I am sitting out waiting for something I fear cannot happen. The logistics are painfully difficult and even now all I can see are dozens of possible failures. In each my personal shortcomings are manifest directly and I cannot fathom an escape if things went bad so far from home. I pride myself on a mind that thinks tactically, that can find every possible victory. Yet I am finding that the real world does not always offer you a possibility of victory. In it's cruelty sometimes even our best is a wasted and futile effort.

Glass is 2/3rds gone. Spiced Rum carries a bitterness when it's not mixed properly. Having only in the last few years started to drink I have trouble getting accustumed to this. I drink things that are sweet like mountain dew. I drink on occasion because it is one of the few things that will slow down my mind. My mind slogs the same information over and over again, possible methods of making money, various low end contacts in the poltical world, my inexperience in the world of politics, Electoral math and most important of all the effort it would have on my life.
The information does not change. I sift it over and over again. I divert my mind to games or matters of study and it returns again at an unguarded moment.

Glass is empty now. It may not be a fevered pace but my mind is still working. I still feel a tinge of loneliness in my heart. I am a creature of the night... but whatever path I take this will have to change. I cannot isolate myself to encourage productivity and cut off potential hurt anymore.
One of the more interesting side effects of light drinking is my mind because more disorderly. Already chaotic and filled with conflicting, loud and diverse thoughts it descends to an even lower level of order. I sit here trying to organize my thoughts and they float away alittle faster then normal. They escape my reach just barely. Just by the tips of my mental fingers.
Relaxed... yes. But no closer to an answer.

New Drink. Watermelon Vodka and Mountain Dew. Very very strong.
Sobriety hasn't helped me grapple with these very difficult issues. Maybe the reverse eh?
I kid of course. Drinking doesn't have a strong effect over my intellect. I would have to drink far more then I am willing to for that to happen. My father let drink dictate his life and it's something I will be think about every time a drink touches my lips. It's me in control, not it.
It's harsh but not bitter. I think the ratio is too strong but I wanted to finish off what was left in the bottle.

Barely into this drink. Cognative functions are still slowing. The numbers of my problem have become more abstract but no less pressing. The problem is as it always is: Money. With a modest amount of money I could blog the entire thing. Ohio would be my playground. I could cover every aspect of the upcoming poltical battle royale. Hell instead of ohio I could blog Florida or Connecticut. (if I spelled that wrong I am deeply sorry). There is demand for competent writing in the poltical arena, it's almost insatiable really. My dream of working for a good intelligent man may have to die here and now. Obama is a great man that much is certain. But there is no certainty of a job (even a low paying one), nor is it certain that I would be able to support myself if I did land a modest job as a staffer.

Glass inches down. This vodka is much stronger then I thought. Once thing as a writer I can do and I know it's not unique to me is understand the mind of another writer. Obama writes from a place in his heart and because of that what he says doesn't sound cheap or poltical. Yet his mind is sharp and thinking ahead by leaps and bounds. He has worked out every problem he thinks he will face and he intends to do that facing with honesty. What would be long buried dirt to another is something for him to lift up. He admits to second guessing himself or feeling guilty about his job. He illuminates himself as human and when I read his words I see past the poltical meaning to his heart. It is a rare talent to write from that insubstancial place and still convey all the meaning you intend. I want more then anything to help him accomplish his dream of a better world. I understand the poltics and in some areas I don't even fully agree with the senator. But I do believe in his heart he wants the world to be a better place and I agree with his vision of a better world even if policy by policy we disagree sometimes.

Half Empty. Mind is blank except for what I summon into it. A state I can accomplish with either intense focus and meditation or by moving from light drinking to moderate drinking.
When I finish this drink I am certain I will be unable to write further without ranting or degrading to something you would find on Mypsace.
I know with certainty what I want to do. The problem is accomplishing what I want. Making it possible without destroying myself.
I slaved hard to put myself back together, part of that was a desire to change the world.
I think of the Taoists of old who isolated themselves from society to perfect themselves. Or of Zhuangzi who turned down the position of advisor because he feared entanglement into court poltics. They were still pools in the river of time. When a Taoist did act it was overwhelming, they did not over extend themselves or tax the people into poverty. It was not personal ambition that caused them to act. But a desire to help others. A strange dichotomy for persons interested mostly in perfecting themselves.

Time to finish this drink, then perhaps a good book or a simple game.
Goodnight to all.

Bring on the New Year

The last week has been quite tiring. I expected to hit the ground running this year and find myself at a soft almost ragged trot. The ideal first step to this year is to appraise myself and my situation. So here it is.

Spiritually I have made significant improvements but I am not yet to the levels I have been before. Emotionally I am alot more hardy and ready to accept the punishment my new ambitions have to offer me. Physically I'm not doing so well, (mostly) poor diet and exercise have plagued me for some time and perhaps worst of all I don't feel I am performing mentally to the levels I should be. It's time to retrain and revist some of the old basics.

However the time I have for that is limited. Budget constraints and timetables prevent me from having unlimited resources to retrain and relearn. For the first time in a long time I face the problem of having to prioritize my time. Time with friends and being social is important. But so is self cultivation and enlightenment. I have to keep track of advances in my areas of study (of which there are many) and persue new ones to keep my perspective fresh. How I face problems of this size is important, small problems and adversities can bring down someone faster then one large problem. I find most often that it is not 1 problem that destroys an agenda or a person or an organization. It is the constant nibble of a dozen minor problems that bleeds the attention and the resources. Being able to deal effectively with small problems is an important skill.

One of the projects I want to finish before I move on to my larger projects is the dreaded reordering. Everything I have is in disarry. My saved games are not organized. My Digital media files are not organized. Pictures, Books, Writing, Research and even things as trivial as clothes. I've been disorganized and it irks me every day. My personal desire is for things to be clean and organized. Yet my family is dirty, messy and disorganized to the extreme. It would be easy to keep things organized if I put them away when I was done with them. If I filed them instead of put them on my desk to be buried. If I lived on my own I honestly feel I would overcome this problem alot easier. Seeing the disorder in the house somehow justifies it to me and brings it out. Now I think about it that irks me too.

Over time I have been shaping and reordering who I am. To some the change is apparent and even startling. To others it has been so gradual that they haven't noticed. It comes in a sudden epiphany. To others still I am the same or close to the same. I talk a good talk. I play a good game and I respect and honor my rivals even as I pwn and trashtalk them. The outside hasn't changed alot because people are comfortable with it. Yes I can be obnoxious sometimes, yes I can be egomanical, and yes I can even be confrontational. Yet for these traits I have been told that I am more positive, more fun, less cynical (Shocking side effect of being positive), more tolerant and all around better. People like me more now then they did a few months ago. And more then a few months before that. Personality can improve like anything else. I hope with age I can cut away that excess of obnoxiousness and that thick film of ego that prevades my social life. But then again I need alot of that ego. A comfortable sense of self and ego are vital if you are to work in a field as crowded and bloodthirsty as publishing. (people who refute this are naive.)
The ego is important if it is not excessive. Much as I hate to keep using that word over and over again.

Other small problems surface and each is sharp enough to scuttle my entire agenda. But most pressing perhaps is the current nature of who I am. From one perspective I am more complete as a person then I was in the past. I know who I am and what I want to do. But the nuts and bolts aren't all together yet. I have advanced more in the past month then the past 3 months before that. I am capable of loving once again. Something I thought I had lost forever or at least had been diminished. The strength of my spirit is strong and ready to fight and struggle. The failures, betryals and losses of my past have hurt me immensely and at the same time given fire to the core of my being. In a way I am tempered from that and many other kinds of hurt. I have the strength of my convictions to bring to bear and the passion in my heart is not abated by fear of failure or isolation. Yet... I do miss one thing. The infastructure for my new life isn't there yet. And my persona is trapped in the past. I still present myself as who I was. I still use the same systems, arguements and logic I did before. A large part of me has shifted forward and the rest is still stuck in the past. A large part of how I think, reason and decide. It creates a vague unease and uncomfortable feeling. One of the symptoms of this I will talk about now.

I've begun to have extremely strange dreams and nightmares recently. On a nap earlier I was convinced my truck had been stolen. The dream was so compelling that when I awoke it took me almost 10 minutes to realize I owned a car and it was sitting in my driveway. The images and situations within my dreams are so compelling that I believe them even after I awaken. Sometimes I forget who I am and believe myself to be my sleeping persona. I awaken to find myself alive or uninjured. I have even awoken to find that I did not have a beautiful fey lover beside me. As much as I love these brief escapes into unreality I know that this surge of intense dream activity is my mind sorting itself out. The images in my dreams are sharp and intense after a period of emotional and mental examination. I change who I am. And like the re-boot and defrag of a computer my mind has to make sense of it's new surroundings. The dreams are not all violent. Or all sexual, or all peaceful. Like the different and scattered aspects of a person they are all important in some regard or fashion. The fey lover is not an ideal mate. It's a fling for pleasure. The pleasure of an all out passionate love without consquences, the allure of their primal nature overwhelming to a human. Humans that are drawn taut by conflicting emotions and feelings. A deep relationship carries a different kind of feeling then a fling. How we choose to resolve these conflicts within ourselves is what truly defines who we are. My dreams are brutal and violent because in my past it was important for me to brutal and violent to survive. They are filled with images taken from my past, future, present and a world that is not seen: imagination. The eerie prophetic nature of my dreams is because my sub-conscious does not filter the content of my mind. I know what is coming, what is around by my mind filters it because it is inconvienant or even harmful. Of course sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

I am ready for this new year, ready to embrace a new persona and a new style to life. I am eager to prove myself to my peers, to my rivals and to everyone in the various facets of my expanding life. I'm finding new friends to replace old ones, new rivals to test myself against, new ideas to replace the misguided and perhaps most importantly I am ready to embrace myself. If you have read my blog beginning to end you must realize the self-loathing that came with my isolation and pain. The issues of trust I still struggle with aren't so easily defeated by they are starting to crumble. Perhaps many years from now I will be successful and famous enough to rewrite and publish this blog as a memoir. Someone who knows the pain of abuse, betryal, guilt, isolation, heartbreak and self-doubt will read this and realize that with effort and courage there is nothing you cannot change. First within yourself and then within the world.

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.