This is getting out of hand

Just a quick poll: who still reads this? If you read but never comment, that's okay. Just post a quick 'here' to let me know my audience.

I didn't want to write this. I guess it's better to say that I didn't want to take the time. Comfort is such an addictive thing. Once you get used to it, you start to forget that good things often come with a price. You get used to mediocrity, like an obnoxious cousin whom you share a bed with during a family reunion in the mountains. You don't like him there, but he keeps the bed warm.

Well, here's to a cold night.

I wonder how many drafts I'm going to go through. I've already deleted two paragraphs that I felt were under-par. Yes, under-par for a blog. Perhaps the only reason I'm still writing is because I remembered that I like my writing better when my mind is peaceful and happy and my thoughts can focus. Now, words fail me. Not completely, but like a machete when a scalpel was needed. They feel unwieldy, clumsy, and limp. It's because they mirror my thoughts right now. The funny thing is, I don't feel depressed. Well, not clinically. I'm just reflecting on everything that's been happening -or failing to- since I returned from the Peace Corps. I know that there's nothing for me to do but pick myself up and do better, but, nevertheless, I can't help sighing.

The picking myself up came from my talk with my shrink today. To point, it wasn't a morale boost. However, I should also point out firstly, that I have never felt comfortable talking to this doctor but still go to see him after four years, secondly, that he's a psychiatrist, not a counselor or psychologist (at least, I don't think so), and thirdly, he was using tough love.

So, anyway, he's asking what I've been up to in the last three or four months (long time since the last visit), and I say the usual: lookin' fer a jehb, driving places, and keeping myself otherwise distracted. No projects, no exercise, I answer him. Then, as if reaching into my own mind, he pulls out a familiar question: "How can you live with yourself?"

I knew at once that this was the "tough love." Surprised me, actually. I guess I'm becoming a more troublesome case. Secretly, however, I felt like this guy was a waste of my time since my medicine is doing its neurological trick and he's just my supplier, yo. So, my answer? "I ask myself that a lot."

The rest of the session was talk about me being more active; taking up some exercise and whatnot. Sage advise, but I have a horrible track record with it. Another sigh.

Wait, wait, wait. (Those were added in later for dramatic flare. Ooo!)

As I sit here, I see myself sliding down. Down to pessimism, down to hopelessness, down to a cold, cold heart. I don't want that. I'm quite fearful of it, actually. It frightens me to think about what a Will like that would do.

So, change of plans. I was going to continue my deprecating combo with a punch explaining why I am so often the instrument of my own failure and then follow through with a kick to the crotch of my future, but it's getting just a little too dark for me. I feel, or maybe even become, what I write, and I'm not going to write myself into oblivion.

I will hold on.

I will push onward.

I will press that flickering flame of hope and faith to my chest and wrap my world around it.

(I will have to do something about these mood swings.)

I Will.


Twilight out.

The Four Laws of Staying Cool

I was talking to Spautz earlier today, and he asked me how I remained as relaxed as I do. Well, never one to keep arcane secrets to myself, I gave him some pointers made up on the spot. I figured they were worth posting.


One: Make a point not to worry yourself to the point of physical duress. Once it goes beyond simple emotions, LET IT GO. If you can't do anything more about something, don't let it torture you.

Two: Remember that, one way or another, things work out in the end. Life isn't a solo game, and when we fail or fall, it's usually not as disastrous as we imagine.

Three: Don't be afraid to chill. Relax. Stretch out. Explore the soft curves of a nice piece of furniture. Give your mind some time to wander and forget about deadlines. The rest of you will appreciate it.

Fourth (and this is most assuredly not last): Faith. God has good plans for us. Trust in them.

This is really just a placeholder until I finish the story I owe Becky. Soon. Real soon!
hehe... ^_^'


Twilight on hold.

Earthsong Saga

I've not been in the mood to post recently, but I said I'd talk about Earthsong Saga, and dagnabit, I'm going to. Of course, having Arnold nag you about updating helps (I'm appreciative of it. Really.) ;)



There's nothing terribly ground-breaking about this webcomic. No drunken appliances, no angsty androids, no magical fezzes. No posturing or pretension, either, just the singular satisfaction of good storytelling. And a most lovely lady.

Okay, so I'm a bit dazzled. Let me start from the beginnning.

I was checking out the fanart for another webcomic (Inverloch, which is also worth looking at), when I found a crossover drawing with a curious girl called Willow (that's her up there) from another comic called the Saga of Earthsong.

It would be safe to say that Willow was what drew me to Earthsong. As I read, I found that this lavender-skinned, snow-haired, curly-locked girl with amethyst eyes was more than beautiful to me. She was captivating in the special way that two-dimensional characters can be: as personifications. Oh, she had the tender allure of kind innocence, but there was more. She had grace. Every shadowed hue on her face and neck, every demure gesture, and every fold of her dress screamed out that here was a Lady.

Although Willow is the star, she has quite the supporting cast. Every character drips with personality. More than that, though, each is based off of a legend. Part of the story involves people returning home from the adventure set out in the comic with scattered memories of strange beings. These became our gargoyles, our valkyries, our gorgons. The author (Crystal "Lady" Yates) actually encourages her readers to research the myths that lay behind her characters. Also, every new name in the comic, she has said, will always have a meaning behind it. I find this a refreshing devotion to quality and depth, especially in a webcomic. Not to mention the artist herself, who once stayed up until 4 AM working on a page in order to get it out on time.

As for the story itself, it strikes me as somewhere between Final Fantasy and Disney. The plot involves living planets as the Powers That Be, which immediately harkens to Final Fantasy 7. Excepting, of course, that these planets have minds and personalities. I find Disney in the balance between plot and characterization. Yes, these are people with depth and with tales to tell, but what matters is the plot. Whether the characters are center stage or vehicles for the story, the plot is the focus, and its telling the purpose. That's what gets you in the end. While you're rooting for the characters, you're drawn in by the story.

Speaking of the story, you'll note I've said very little about it. I wanted this post to be primarily an endorsement. You now know how much I like this comic, and if you know me, then you know the weight of that sentiment and can gauge your decision accordingly. Besides, I had to leave you something to find if you decide to read! Aside from the pretty art.

Rich characters.
Detailed plot.
Beautiful art.
Dedication to storytelling.
What more could you ask for?

As for me, I have a pretty girl in a dress and choker, and I'm going to enjoy every minute.

Twilight out.

Something rotten in Denmark

I knew I'd start begrudging this thing. I'm just not a journal kind of guy. Should I make something of that? Is it just another manifestation of my lack of discipline? Is it just not something that goes with my nature? Is that an easy cop-out? Eh.

Sit back, kiddos, and let me tell you a story. There was once a boy. He was a happy boy, and full of life. He loved, more than anything, to make things up. He would write stories or draw up designs for fantastic inventions. He gathered up a treasure of these designs over the years, and even tried his hand at designing Mega Man sequels. Some said he was a braggart, far too proud of the scientific knowledge he lorded over his classmates. Then, things began to change. As high school began to approach, he began to design and write less. Where before he let loose words and lines with glee, he now eyed them suspiciously, wondering if they were good enough. He now felt the world hovering around him like an audience, and he had to perform. All the things he loved were now his path to glory. Where once there was free creativity, now there were slaves. Soon he looked outward for his guidance, and weighed his worth by how pleased people were with him. The weight became too much for his proud soul, and disappointment reigned in the court of joy. His ego fell, and he cheered on its demise, but it fell too far and too hard. The towers of wonder crashed down, and the single voice of beauty took on the countless tongues of doubt.

Well, that's a poetic and romantic version of what I think may have lead me from my carefree creative youth to my current frustrated self. I will avoid the anime cliché of marking one single event in my past as the turning point in my life. But introspection is my thing, and I have plenty of time to indulge it.

I'll be moving to Charleston soon. I don't have a job lined up yet, but I will. I'll be living with Arnold and probably Roger. Should be sweet. I hope my hands can withstand the sudden increase in gaming, though. :)

These posts are really self-centered, aren't they? I should have something other than myself to talk about. Oh! Maybe next time I'll talk about Earthsong Saga, a webcomic I've fallen in love with. Maybe I'll link pictures, too. Hmm...

Twilight out.