WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft


The most significant events seem to happen in the shortest span of time. Here it must seem even shorter, when I only write about the most brutal realities when they occur. The rest is just the gap of time.

It's hard to believe that it was late 2013 when I met Andy. It was my lady Bran that met Mathieu first, Andy's husband. Although they delayed the more intimate aspects of their relationship for a couple of months, their chemistry was strong, and the bond between Andy and I was just as vivid. Our times together flourished for around one year, with plans being made for a lifetime together, for all of us. In late 2014, Bran attended a house party with our two lovers; they all got drunk and left her there alone with a man, who sexually assaulted her. Mathieu left her because of the assault, and Andy quit speaking to her as well. For people who identified as modern liberals, poly, and trans, I would have expected far different, but this is the reality of things. I blindly continued my relationship with Andy, for we were deeply in love, yet no more or less than Bran and Mathieu were either. Andy was swayed against me; his paranoia reigned. One day I found out he was going to have a child and then, very shortly after, in February of this year, he left me.

This was one of the most brilliant highs and devastating falls I've ever had in my life. I was truly Icarus: I saw unrivaled potential, and felt the brilliance of complete fulfillment. For a year of my life I had everything. I was at the apex of happiness. The fall from my hubris was of an identical magnitude, a fall which marked the second great betrayal of my life.

I'll never know why Andy left me. He never provided any real reasons, instead grasping at straws, repeating minor superficialities (I don't like being licked by dogs, for example). At the beginning of this year I began a casual relationship alongside Bran with another woman as well, whom Andy discriminated against because she was younger than me... younger being in her early twenties, as opposed to Andy in his mid-twenties. She is mature; she graduated college at a young age and now travels the world helping people. I knew her early in life, and I know she is a wonderful person. Andy never graduated college, never travelled, never grew up, is afraid of the world... so why is it that my love for him still glows so bright, these buried coals failing to be smothered?

It's irrelevant now, of course. The experiences I had have happened and ended, and cannot be changed then nor reclaimed now. The path I take is outside of my control. Last night I stayed in and reminisced briefly not just about him but about all of the loves and affairs of my life, all of whom are mentioned at some point in this journal, many of whom even contributed. This account itself was gifted to me by the first girl I ever had a crush on, back in middle school, a person who refused to speak to me ever again following our brief and friendly encounter during my college era. This mystery, too, remains unresolved.

My memories brought me not just into the past, but into what is the future as of this writing. My mind does not organise thoughts linearly; it is instead a series of flagged points, each one representing some vital event, indiscriminate of date of occurrence, ranging from my birth to my death. It can be overwhelming, especially (as in this case) when events I knew before are no longer in my vision. I've lost faith in a lot of things, now. My mind has reverted from an all-consuming happiness, contentment, and love into what it was before (with a transitional period of extreme despair): the mind and outlook that you no doubt have already seen recorded here. I'm back to who I was, but I don't see that as a good thing. I had events to attend, people to hold, a true feeling of belonging and value and purpose, and it was moving me forward and helping to overcome my doubts and weaknesses. Now I have been forced back to exactly where I used to be. Oddly enough, when I mentioned to Andy that staying together was to the benefit of us both, he distinctly argued, to the word: "I cannot be a reason for your improvement" even though he already had been since the day we met.

I don't want revenge on him. In his head is enough self-doubt and paranoia from a lifetime of integrated emotional abuse, both from his family and his spouse. Any suffering I wished upon anyone would pale next to the dead soul that resides inside him now, one that cannot even feel ecstasy or trauma when the greatest peaks and pitfalls of the world abound, one that cannot know love nor betrayal and so does both freely without discrimination or reason or understanding. If I were to hold every living person he knew before him and torture them with red-hot pokers, his eyes would stare ahead with indifference, slightly misty from the anxiety of simply having an unexpected event occur, an event that has to be "dealt with" ... as is all our relationship was to him.

I put together a mixtape about our relationship on Soundcloud, publicly, before he left me. It's called I Love Andy, because I sappy like that. The songs are contemporary mixes, so no doubt it will sound outdated from this moment forward, but at the time it was created it expressed what I felt was the core energy and the end of our relationship. When he broke up with me in person (at my insistence, as I won't accept digital breakups), at a sushi restaurant up north, a song from the playlist (which had already been put together, the song called Counting Stars) played over the radio while we slowly ate. It's the first song on the list that I think is truly ours, though: Naked Souls. I cannot fathom how or why we ever became anything different.
  • Current Music
    AARRCC - Maacht ist der Verlust ist Gewinn Gefängnis
  • Tags
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

It is ever more near.

The first fall wind has not even begun to blow; the leaves before the crash scatter in premonition of the coming of... well, you know. There's a part of my soul I can't even write about, uncaptured by human language, still set free to roam about the natural world. It's out there in the darkness on the winds, searching for what can never be found, and bestowing its unsettling restlessness into the various nighttime walkers. I see it as no bad omen that this week I was kicked out of the apartment- well, my wife and I both were- by the selfish whims of the Management. I don't know where we will go now, but I know that this is a grand step, and probably one we would not have taken otherwise. It's time to do some soul-searching in our environment as well as ourselves.
Several months ago two gecko eggs were found in the bedroom, beneath a blanket on the floor. A couple of days ago, they both hatched. I placed the geckos in a tank for observation until they finished their first molt; one lived and one died. I know this is an omen like the two I have received before, but I do not know what of. Is it of a person I met recently, through the net? I would think it is instead something far greater, as geckos are significant creatures with a history of potent meaning behind them. Is losing this residence death, or life? I am filled with glee at not knowing the answer. I've found the way the world works, laced in chaos, equilibrium, and change. I am so eager, so anxious to know what it is. It could be so many things... events beyond measure. Something huge, something that strikes my very humanity. It's something about the grave; perhaps an expedition, or a glittering distraction to fill my time before it.
I was sitting in a shop today enjoying a fall drink, and I woke up. I've written before about how I've always felt trapped in a bubble, mentally- but I was just sitting there as these abstracted bits of a grand puzzle swarmed about my dulled mind, and as they cut apart my thoughts it felt more real, and I was free. I almost cried as I looked around and saw the world for what it was, and everything I could interact with. It was beautiful. It was all there just like it was when I packed it all away, back when I was young, before FL, before school, back in the days of careless fall nights before winter's icy sting. I hope that the event that brings this on keeps my mind free, but I fear what that entails. I know the contract I have with the world, and the great prices paid for sanity or understanding; sickness is but a trifle, death a mere plaything.
I wish I could infect the world with this sense of foreboding. It brings a painful reality about me, a sense of ends. If everyone knew it and felt it, there would be no sorrow or remorse or pity or complaint, only the eager knowledge that something is happening and that something must be done. I think that people fear it though, that they run from it; I think that's why they put on a show with their emotions, their money, their homes and lives and drinks and dances and television and bibles and loves. When you let it in, it just pushes you right into suicide unless you're strong enough to just stand there, let it flow through you, and say "this is how it is, and it brings no love or hate; this is just how it is."
It's so dark, yet so vibrant. It's all in my mind, but it feels so real. In a way, I am scared, because I know how the human spirit lies:
We feel that everything is here only when we know that everything will be gone.
  • Current Music
    Radical Face - Glory
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft


Yesterday I finally got the call I had been waiting for from [insert place I applied to], saying that I was to show up today at 4 in the afternoon for an interview. The entire call was actually cut up with garbled static, and the only thing I heard clearly was the time, date, and location of the interview. I got to say “ok, I’ll be there” and then the call dropped. It’s as if the universe only wanted to focus on the important parts of my getting hired.

There’s just one teeny problem. I’m applying to a store nearby that hasn’t opened yet, so the interview is in a different store way down south, and this is TX, and it’s summer, and my car doesn’t have functional AC. For those of you unfamiliar with TX temperatures, it hits “hot” at noon and then slowly bakes everything in the state up to the peak “insane” temperature between 3 and 4 in the afternoon. Today it was 106F (41C), and since living in an apartment requires my car to be parked outside, it would be significantly hotter while driving.

So I put on my super-sexy business-casual outfit and headed over there with the windows down and my shirt unbuttoned in desperate hopes that I wouldn’t arrive looking as though I had gone swimming. In hindsight I probably should have changed into my dress clothes after I got there, but I still would have been sweaty so whatever. I got there a half-hour early as planned, so I cooled off for 15 mins inside before the interview, and sold myself flawlessly as always.

Of course, then you get the news “We’re hiring twice as many people as we need. Every week we vote have a meeting, and a few contestants employees are let go.” Basically, even though I’m guaranteed a job for 2-3 weeks, I have now been put on a large retail store Survivor rip-off. If only I had watched those shows, I could have gotten some sweet tactics.
  • Current Music
    The whir of the Machine
  • Tags
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft


As you may well be aware, this journal is more for my own records and for any upcoming generations (should they be so interested) to track my personal life. On July 26 in 2004 and 2005, back when I was still in college, I posted some trivial little facts from an online self-survey (they were new at the time, amazingly enough). This year is 2012. Let's see what changed.

Past, Present, and Future Survey
-first grade teacher's name: Ms. Watson
-last word you said: Elder!
-last song you sang: I don't sing, but I hum Doom, Doom 2, Wolf 3d music all the time.
-last thing you laughed at: Good conversation with Bran and Seth and his friends last night.
-last time you cried: Listening to some music, but I don't remember which song.

-what's in your cd player: This is 2012, we don't have them anymore. My computer's disc drive has in the Children of the Nile cd though.
-what color socks are you wearing: Haven't worn socks in 4 years; been unemployed 4 years this month. Bran wears my old socks and they are now full of holes. Haven't bought new ones in a decade. Can't afford them.
-what's under your bed: A white cat and a roach hormone control dispenser thing.
-what time did you wake up today: 10:30. The new kitten was banging on and trying to get over the makeshift bedroom door we have.

-what is your career going to be: Career?
-where are you going to live: Apparently I will live here forever. But I will fight for it to be in a house, in this general area, perhaps a bit further north.
-how many kids do you want: 2 ideally, if my wife can have them both without health problems and we can afford the hospital bills and raising them before we both hit 60.
-what kind of car will you drive: The same '92 Honda accord hatchback I've driven since 6th grade. Well, I guess my mother drove it back then, not me.

-current hair: Shaggy, with a 1-week moustache/goatee combo. I was thinking of getting a mohawk or something similar if I wasn't so hopeful on getting a job soon. The facial hair is going away as soon as I take pics.. it's very itchy
-current clothes: Very ragged blue jeans full of holes. Cotton boxers. Nothing else.
-current annoyance: Not being able to afford to eat or find employment anywhere while wealthy people in offices complain about their jobs.
-current smell: Freshly showered
-current desktop picture: Bran's sexy, naked body. I always forget to change it when people come over to visit.. and then I realise that I don't care. Old habits die hard.
-current favorite music artist: I've been enjoying Kamo & Crooked recently, but my favourite still has to be W!2, like always.
-current worry: Not getting a job in the next 2 months, or getting an offer while I am in Canada, or being forced to work instead of go to Canada. The fact that my accounts will be drained and I'll be totally bankrupt in 2-3 months is a bit more pressing though.
-current hate: The upper class and the middle class, all of their spawn, and of course, obstinate, close-minded, ignorant employers, game companies, christians, republicans, and the really whiny upcoming generation that nitpicks about EVERYTHING.
-story behind your name: Hadeumdi is a man in the future, stranded on a desert planet that makes him live independently of time. Nate just means "gift".
-favorite physical feature on a girl/boy: Women's hair can play with my mind and my hormones so much. With guys, it tends to be a bit more intimate...
-i am happiest when: I am with Bran, preferably in the woods on a mild, overcast day, in a place with lots of wildlife and a beautiful breeze.
-i feel lonely when: I'm not with Bran. Amazing, isn't it?
-do you think too much: Always.
-if you could live anywhere in the world, where: In the semi-rural wilderness of New England, (such as NH, I do have a soft spot for it) or in a slightly more remote, non-desert region around the DFW area here in TX, with untouched woods and streams nearby.
-famous person you have met: I don't meet famous people.
-do you have any regrets: I regret not buying Microsoft stock when I was 6.
-favorite coffee: In ice cream form, with oreo crumbles and chocolate sauce.
-favorite smell: Hickory smoke and steak on a campfire still nails it!
-favorite way to waste time: Favourite way? Having a banquet orgy in a white marble palace room with a decorative pool and giant couches made of pillows. Fastest way? Playing Children of the Nile, I promise, go try that...
-what is your best quality: Spectacular nails, thick straight hair, great health (as long as you ignore my teeth's attempts to prove otherwise)
-are in currently in love/lust: Of course. I fall in love with my wife again every day of my life.
-any bad habits: Procrastination. And when the world stops me from doing something enough I eventually quit trying to do that, even though my soul keeps fighting for it. It feels like a poison when that happens.
-do you find it hard to trust people: Everyone except Bran and Nate.
-last thing you bought yourself: Outside of some cheapass games from the Steam summer sale... Mighty Max Terror Talons! It finally showed up on eBay after nearly 20 years!
-bath or shower: Shower
-favorite season: Fall
-favorite color: White with red trim. So damn sexy.
-favorite flavor: I don't know if I can judge flavour independently of food. I'd have to say Promised Land Dairies eggnog.
-favorite time of day: In the summer, whenever it's cool enough to go outside. Usually the late evening, just as the sun drops behind the trees but hasn't quite set.
-gold or silver: Silver. Gold is too soft and too heavy.

-how many coats and jackets do you own: A handful. I usually just wear one of two light ones and make them work for a variety of weather and temperatures.
-do you wear a watch: Nope, have a cell phone for that.
-favorite pants color: Black denim.
-most expensive item of clothing: A black, lightweight designer jacket, $90. I picked it up at a crazy boutique in Austin a few years back during GDC. I don't even remember how long ago it was.
-most treasured: My original white Doom shirt. When I wear it to QuakeCon I always get people asking me where it's from, as if they can't register that I bought a shirt back when the games were contemporary.

-do your friends know you: Nate and Bran know me very well. Too well, even.
-what do they tend to be like: Awesome.
-can you count on them: Always.
-can they count on you: Always. As long as it's not financially.

.LAST. .
-last book you read: Can't remember. Supposed to read Sex at Dawn.
-last movie you saw: Brave
-last movie you saw on the big screen: Brave
-last show you watched on tv: Big Bang Theory, just this afternoon
-last song you heard: Melodies of Feelings 2, the djSerj mix that isn't available anywhere in the world anymore except on my computer. I was listening to it while taking that insane job app for Michael's.
-last thing you had to drink: A Mocha Cookie-Crumble Frappucino that Bran brought home from work! At the time of this writing it's a new introduction, but I hope it stays.
-last thing you ate: The cookies out of the drink... haven't had anything else to eat all day (and it's 10:30 in the evening)
-last time you showered: About half an hour ago.
-last time you smiled: When Bran came home :D
-last time you laughed: Last night, didn't I already say this?
-last person you hugged: Bran!
-last person you talked to online: Bran!
-last person you talked to on the phone: Golly, I guess that mechanical service from CVS if you count bots. Otherwise it would be my mother.

.DO YOU. .
-smoke: No.
-do drugs: Nothing significant. I haven't taken otc or prescription drugs in many years, and try to avoid ethanol and caffeine.
-drink: I had two margaritas yesterday, which did nothing. I normally avoid ethanol. A glass of dark red with grilled cheese though, mmmmmmm.
-sleep with stuffed animals: Not here. Elder's fat enough to be called stuffed, but we don't let him in the bedroom at night.
-have a crush: My wife :D I know, crazy isn't it? Still counts though.
-have a dream that keeps coming back: Yes actually, just recently that has started again, but I can't remember the theme.. space, or schools.. something.
-play an instrument: I still wish.
-read the newspaper: Nope
-have any gay or lesbian friends: Still looking for lesbians willing to associate with me. Know a handful of bi people now, including the wife, but no purely gay or straight guys nearby or that I talk to frequently. A handful online. I think Bran's San An gf is a lesbian that was socially forced into tolerating guys (intimately)
-believe in miracles: Not really. Certainly not religiously.
-consider yourself tolerant: Ehhh... to some things.
-consider police a friend or foe: Friend, usually. They're getting a bit more blindly-unwavering than I am comfortable with recently..
-like the taste of alchohol: No. If I drink something alcoholic, I want it to be very low on the ethanol, or work well enough with the flavour that it is not dominant.
-believe in magic: I still play it sometimes.
-pray: Noooo
-go to church: In my head :)
-have any secrets: My credit card, bank account, and social security numbers.
-have any pets: 2 standard cats and one possibly-temporary kitten
-go or plan to attened college: Already did that mess.
-talk to strangers: Don't have the willpower for that. Probably why I've been unemployed so long; you can't do anything in this society without random irrelevant connections.
-have any piercings: No
-have any tattoos: No
-hate yourself: No. In fact, I get more awesome as I get older.. just more broke, as well.
-wish on stars: Nah, they're still just burning at me.
-like your handwriting: It's decent, but I'd say about 60% of handwriting in general is better.
-believe in witches: Wicca is a religion, yes.
-believe in ghosts: Probably not
-believe in santa: He existed at one time, although not as glorified as he is now.
-believe in the easter bunny: No
-believe in the tooth fairy: Still dead from Space Ghost and Hanson
-have a second family: Nathan's family, all the way. Far more than even my wife's family.
-trust others easily: When the others trust in me.
-sing in the shower: Normally just humming.

Well, I think that was a good comparison and reflection. Time to start on some dinner!
  • Current Music
    Camo & Krooked - All Fall Down
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

No one sings anymore.

I can' tell if writing in this journal is a type of refreshment or merely a record of my madness. When I read what I have put down, I can feel all of those thoughts and emotions well up in me again as fresh as the days in which I was immersed in them. In many ways those days continue, and bittersweet agony tickles my soul and makes me cry ever so lightly in front of the screen's gentle light.

Yesterday was my 28th birthday. I never actually imagined myself being twenty-eight. Older certainly, perhaps optimistically, and I remember being younger with fondness up until the years meshed into purgatory. Although, if my time in Florida was purgatory, perhaps these indistinguishable years after are my repentance, if not my punishment (for surely if I were being punished, events would not run so ideally, so painlessly, so without err). Most notably, events have actually been occurring, and their long-term effects have yet to be determined by the glory of their fleeting presence. In fact, the sudden upsurge of activity almost reawakened my desire to write a webcomic, but I am always aware that by the time I learn how to convey events well, they will have ended and my activities will have returned to a very stale rate of occurrence and/or excitement.

It's no question of where to begin. As we continue to live off of scraps and my long-term savings grows ever-smaller, we were blessed this year as we were every year by the government's obscene levels of ineptitude, which is also known as tax season. We were awarded $2000 for paying $150 and signing a marriage certificate 2 years ago; significantly more than the $200 return only one of us would have received if we had not partaken in this marvelous and vital United States institution.

Early in the month of May- I think it was May, quite sure- my darling wife was able to meet a girl named Randi. Randi was a petite girl in every sense of the word, even shorter than my wife, with very dark hair cut to neck length, glasses, and limbs so slender you would think she just forgets to eat (despite the contrary being the case; this girl could not go for more than a few hours without sustenance). Unlike the previous semi-interested and genuinely flakey girls that Bran had spoken with on and off for a couple of years previous, Randi was a fervently extroverted individual, and after a couple of dates met Bran with a passion that she had never had rivaled (not even by me).

Now Randi was married and lived just nearby, and my wife of course married as well, so the practice was testing the true limits of a bisexual chain relationship that I had spent so much research laying out over the preceding months, developed from theories I had held for years. My wife was still a virgin in the realm of women, with Randi having only recently become physically involved with women herself in some less-than-stellar relationships, perhaps encouraging her desire for success. They had a passion of the most extreme, one that sped from walking in the door to a three-hour lovemaking session in a matter of seconds. It was of no doubt to me that Randi took charge and my wife was more than ready to follow in step; even through thick walls and closed doors I (and no doubt the neighbors) could tell that they both enjoyed each other to every height imaginable. With their love lives sated by both genders (and certainly no ill effect on mine or her husband's, perhaps even improved by a residual sexual fervor) everything was top-notch. Of course, we all know the way that the universe works, and it was of no particular surprise that on my wife's very first full experience, Randi received a call from her husband that he had found long-term work in San Antonio. They were moving very far south.

Of course this put no hamper on the short-term, and their involvement continued unhindered with the same inextinguishable flame that it did before. However, the experiences of new lovers can put a strain on the wallet even if not on the heart, and so the great government boon burned down rather quickly. The entire experience was over as quickly as it had begun; by the end of May they had parted again, back to their separate lives to continue searching for something so briefly held. Of course there are lingering aspects to this story; social details that require my theories on bisexual chain relationships to be reworked, and the reminder that such passion is never fully dissolved... their friendship lives on, and carries with it the mutual friendship with the people here we all have come to know. But in the end, where does that leave us?

We're not quite back where we started. We are richer in heart and mind, but poorer in the bank. I'd not object to such a circumstance, if only it didn't lead to the happiest couple on the planet dead and buried at thirty years of age. For now we march on, for it is all we can do, one day at a time.
  • Current Music
    Smuddy - Dominance
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

La Dia de San Valentin

I must admit, coming back and continuing to write in Livejournal fills me with a sort of unsettling nostalgia. This entire collection of literature was founded by a much different man. Typing in a once-familiar window in an old '90s site is like picking up an old diary from your early life and just continuing in its pages as though you were the same person, as if you could truly see that linear evolution from where you were to where you are now. It almost feels like defacing history, claiming a mind that wasn't your own, just one that once occupied the same body. Regardless, I suppose it's only practical; this is the longest stable project I have ever partaken in, and I see no reason to abandon it no matter what unease seeps into me when I return again.

Today is Valentine's Day 2012, the most useless holiday of the year. I never understood why this day is so heavily celebrated, or why it continues to grow in popularity instead of dwindling. Its origins are shrouded in such obfuscated lore that even scholars can only speculate on what it is we are actually celebrate. The name Valentine and the term Saint are really all that anyone has to go off of. There's no doubt that it's to celebrate some aspect of love, but exactly which aspect, and why, are entirely lost.

I enjoy Christmas because of its all-consuming mesh of emotions and considerations. It is a giant capitalist orgy, the notion of which is squabbled about by all people all the time. A holiday steeped in pagan history, christian history, military history, and capitalist history, creating a clusterfuck so complex that those who celebrate it often insist on considering only one or two parts at the most. Valentine's Day isn't like this, it's not as rich and heavily sold, filled with stereotypes that everyone strives to reach yet can never succeed. People just pick up flowers and chocolates and call it a day, but for what? Familial love? Couple's love? Gluttony? Lust? I have no idea. Without origins and purpose, I make it a point to specifically not celebrate Valentine's day, and do the opposite of whatever it is most people do. This is usually incredibly easy, since the opposite of anything is sitting at my computer, listening to music, and 3d modeling.

This day does have a good history with me though. A lot of people complain about bad memories and/or romantic celebrations that ended poorly, but that was never so in my case. I've never had any particularly noteworthy experiences on this holiday at all, positive or negative, perhaps because it falls in February, so that it's either too chilly to go do anything in particular or (during my school days) I was in class. I remember lots of people dreading the approach of the day (my first college roommate particularly comes to mind) but without any real reason why. Jealousy of seeing other people together? Why? They don't even know what that has to do with the holiday.

I'm pretty sure it's all about capitalism. In actuality, I don't much care; I do not profit from the day, experiencing nothing enjoyable or detrimental. I will say though, that I dislike being alone most any day, and I don't need a holiday to draw attention to that fact. No matter what society impresses on you, remember: being in a relationship does not mean that you aren't alone... it also doesn't necessarily mean that you are.
  • Current Music
    Smuddy - Allure
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

Winter Wanes

And the sun shines anew. In this early rise of the new year, I have felt recently a greater reason to write. Perhaps it's an impending sense of an end, or moreover, of a defeat that has finally been accepted. The Wife and I have finally begun serious thoughts about a child. Raising any humans in this place is doomed to riddle them with cancer and various health problems throughout their shortened lives, and so I'd prefer not to approach the issue too seriously until a solution has been afforded. We run out of time though, whilst the world continues to prod us with sticks, and keep us under the bootheel of a government-backed recession. However, biology does not wait, and I know the greatest rebellion lies in our continuing pursuit of our freedoms and desires directly in the face of our oppression. I still worry though, of course. The only ways for me to take control of the situation would result in being jailed, and that would make things no better for anyone.

I've been listening to Doom2's professional midi rerecordings and W!2's brilliant Solar System album under the "Aarrcc" pseudonym, all the while trying to visualise worlds to model. I think after all this time, all I've truly wanted is my own place, even if it's only in the digital realm. Perfection cannot exist in this world anyhow; perhaps true balance can only be achieved within a world where I have total control. I've thought of homes made of trees roots, and of coliseums and of twisted roots and eyes dominating a blood-red sky scrubbed with ash and thick smoke, dense in scent as it gusts over charred bodies of the vanquished. A dreamland is a place where I achieve victory, and any victory I forsee now comes at higher and higher costs.

I'd love to actually write a book soon. I have been saying this for years of course, and there's various reasons as to why I don't have the dedication to do so. I would like to believe that the primary reason for my delay is my ever-shifting spectrum of emotion; literature is so rich with the hearts and minds of man that a single sentence could spark a revolution. Something so distilled to its greatest essence could surely never find an entire volume, and to hold that state from day to day to maintain a manner of continuity I have found to be entirely impossible. I don't know what will ever come of any attempts at literature on my behalf, or any other attempts to garner income in this three-year financial drought. I would like to write something for those who may succeed me, for my children, but a panic sets further in my soul every day as I feel that the greatest natural act of creatures may be to me forever denied. Is it so selfish of me to wish for offspring in this state, in this world? I hope not. I feel as though they are the only ones that could know and continue the true revolution - a revolution where the uprising does not follow the rules set by its oppressors. An uprising of true, purposeful, direct, pure, outspoken violence to further the cause.

The dark picture above my monitor is stretched with spiders' webs, pulled across the breadth and deftly rounding corners into a ghost of a smooth, organic visual. Perhaps That's how I should go, when I design. I'll keep it in mind.
  • Current Music
    Aarrcc - Pluto (The Funeral)
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

The New Year

Change is most often gradual in the state of the world, but there is nothing better than the start of a new year to post a point of reference. The start of 2012 marks another failed year of employment on my behalf. While the population of the upper class diminishes, their wealth booms, and their media covers their ongoing successes. Even now, most respected media sources claim a resurgence in the job market and general economic health, even as unemployment remains as high as ever. I've been hoping to find some sort of meaningless, everyday minimum-wage job this year to even get by, but competition starts in the dozens for any single job slot, irregardless of position.

As each day passes, I grow increasingly concerned with the future. I can deal with not having a future laid out and organised as I had it set for my entire life, but now there are critical points that are missing because they simply cannot be accomplished. No US citizen save for the wealthy elites can afford healthcare, nor can they afford bills associated with childbirth. Therefore, nobody beneath the upper-class can have children in a medical environment; doing so would procure immediate debt of impossible proportions, assuring a lifetime of bankruptcy and financial woe, even with proper employment. I do not suppose our daughter would object to being born all the later into a technological generation, so the economic hardships and downright stalemates may well serve a purpose. However, if the blockades to a family are truly as unresolvable in the long-term as they seem at this point, it will be a dire and truly inhumane disappointment to both me and my wife. Despite all government attempts to limit free speech, I can still say with confidence, without fear of arrest (although perhaps fear of deletion) that the US government is against any family I may have, and by default that makes the US government my enemy. If there ever are any benefits drawn from this government, know that it is not just a diversion, but a fleeting one. The US acknowledges only its upper class and its military; all else are its foes, and as such it is mine.

As for my personal life as a whole, I realise I seldom write about it as often as I should. I know that one day I will desire intimately to look back on it in more detail and not merely peruse politically motivated rants reiterating the same basic subjects.

My grandmother passed away late last year, exactly one month after I had received an omen of such death. I had heard a loud repetitive "thunk" coming from the back of our bedroom, and there found a dusty black click beetle of one inch in length. The beetle is naturally a symbol of death, but not so much the same as the obvious carrion bird. The beetle represents life from death, as it climbs forth from the dark ground where it was once a grubb, turning the decay of the world into life. Now as I'm sure anyone reading this would know, I'm not a particularly religious person, and omens are no regular part of my life. When something this unusual happens though, it should be noted and interpreted. The oddity of this situation was derived from several factors; first, the click beetle was an important symbol to me from my childhood. I had never seen one in TX before, despite this being one of their habitats, but I had long been fascinated with them on my early summer vacations in NH during my childhood, and so I associate them with such. Secondly, this was during the fall with sealed windows, with no apparent way for such a creature to get inside, especially one that so rarely flies. Here, on the third floor as well. Given these facts, I knew that it was important, and informed my wife of the upcoming events. Along with that, I am glad that my grandmother has finally found peace. I do not know what lies after death, but I do know that her husband is there as well, and that she was empty without him, just as I would be without my wife.

My mother remains in poor health. She continues to believe in living with the freedoms of the middle class with both a state of health and an economy that denies such a lifestyle. I continue to be concerned with long-term financing, not just in my lifetime but also within her own. Although I do not enjoy this worry, it puts the world in perspective, and certainly forces me to determine how much should be invested in happiness, and how much should be invested in basic survival. My mother has not yet held a memorial for my grandmother, and I do not know if she ever will. I will hold one myself one day, irregardless. She was a wonderful lady from what truly was the greatest generation, and deserves respect and acknowledgement as much as her husband, and I deserve the closure.

Technology advances. With the rise of smaller, faster, and more meaningless portable devices comes more jobs ported overseas with US corporate fatcats reaping more profits. Every product seems to be so artificial now; finding real wood furniture is a chore outside of an antique shop, and finding anything hand-made at all costs in the thousands. Everything seems to be disposable pastel plastic, designed for and promoting life in the moment instead of acknowledging long-term planning of life and finances. Of course who am I to comment on this? I have no long-term plans at all anymore, particularly none permitted in reality.

Happy 2012.
  • Current Mood
    apathetic apathetic
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

The Resurgence

I've always looked back at the person I was in the past and admired that individual. As many people age, I get the feeling that they look back and feel as though they have matured, whereas I find that my genius fades. Anything set up by a younger version of myself always seems to have more originality, thought, devotion, and general pre-planning than any projects I'd be up to doing now. Perhaps I weep most for my past self who took such a gamble on where I would be now, and feel most of all that I have let him down.

I have said for quite awhile that I am no longer pursuing a career in game design. I have been betrayed and rejected so very many times, that there is only so much I can do, only so far I can push myself and then sacrifice myself for the pursuit of my art. I always held true the idealistic saying to never give up, and yet to retain what shred of sanity I have left, I was forced to do so. I thought that perhaps recognising my abandonment of the art would free me from its chains, but it boils in my blood, a part of me from birth that can never be removed, seeking its fruition so fervently I would not be surprised if death itself cannot repress it. What burns me most is to see the undeserving succeed where I have been denied, because social connections with the overprivileged is held in so much more high regard than talent or devotion. The shallowness of humanity feasts and breeds as art is soiled beneath the gut of those the most social and of least worth.

I don't know what to do with this fire within me. It seems to me very rare that a lifelong pursuit is so often simply canned because the world shuts it down. With any dream there are of course obstacles, particularly for those with unusually lofty goals. I can deal with any one obstacle, with one obstinate company, with differential expectations from peers, with a lack of funding. Even a handful of problems is easily overcome, but to have the entire functioning job market you pursue fully refuse to speak or to listen is entirely overwhelming and at least for me, entirely unexpected. I did not expect any industry or people to whom I allied myself so truely to be so staunchly refusing. Now with 20 years of my life wasted and no money to my name, the path I seek is barred and no other way lies before me.

I have spent the last three years unemployed, desperately seeking not just a job but a path, something, anything, to lead me somewhere beneficial. The successes that were earned by my family have been entirely abandoned in the wake of this magnificent betrayal, and the hope which I held has been abandoned. I have sought ways to quell my desire, even though I wish not to do so, and have sought alternatives to ensure some moderately respectable life for myself and any future family, a life promised through my bloodline, through my class, through society, education, and hard work, but looks like smoke and smells like death.

I know that many of my reactions are chemical, yet I wonder if these are my clearest thoughts. As I starve, I naturally weaken and become more paranoid about how to escape the prison that my own pursuit of moderate happiness and / or success has constructed. My brain reels so often now, and I feel that what remains of my life is now only a clear path into death, with no distractions or sideroads any longer. I see only the grave of me and my love, long dead without accomplishment or expression, amounting only to the painful void that my life has become, one that burdens all within it. While I know that none of the events that have put me here are in any way my fault, I know that it is entirely my responsibility to get out of here and to make the best that I can of my circumstances. Yet that desire within me carries on unabated, and holds no concern for anything else. My very body screams that I must satiate its will to create, or reap vengeance on anyone preventing me from doing so. I feel nothing else within the energy of my life.

I cannot help but think that in the past, I would have had a solution to all of this. Many years ago, a younger version of myself had absolute confidence in where I would be. He knew that this level of determination could never be undermined, and that the gates would surely open if lesser men found their way through. Somehow though, that never happened, and I wonder what his Plan B would have been. What happens when life is supposed to peak and you find yourself with nothing, without even the weapons to fight a war that was lost the day it started, but a war which overwhelms you every hour of every day of your life? For once I have no answers at all, and no matter how many more years of meditation I gain on the subject, I see no way of procuring any further. May this generation rot; may the world of gaming rot; and may I be the last one alive to see it all end.
  • Current Music
    Collider - Time Concerns
WoW, Salty, Sorbet, Warcraft

Under no obligation to make these days go by.

Things seem to be at a hiatus. All of the financial problems that have been building up over the last three years have reached a bulkhead, and past that is nothing.. absolutely nothing. I am crunching my brain all day trying to think of some way to bring in some cash, just $200 per month would resolve so much. Around me I see only the death of employment potential, and I pray to a god that does not exist for inevitable salvation. I can only do it as I've done before: one day at a time.

Listening to W!2 again gets my mind back on reality though. I keep fantasizing about all the amazing things I could do digitally, yet as the world moves more into the internet and corrupts its inherent user freedom, I am forced to move away from the realm that raised me and instead step back into the bleak, trashy nothingness of contemporary poverty.

A million things to do, a million losses presented, not a penny gained.
  • Current Music
    W!2 - Crush