The Dragon Lives

Nearly a year has passed, since last I visited this place. So much has happened. Overall, good things, which is always nice to realize. I am currently unemployed which, yes, is also a positive thing. Never have I felt so clearly the numerous possibilities just out of hand's reach. Never have I felt so truly certain the path I walk, is the correct one.

Never do I dare accept there are powers out there looking out for us, for to speak of it would be to admit lunacy. Yet I feel I am supposed to 'be crazy'. After all, you only live your current life once, but the previous ones have an impact on who you become, and what burdens will befall you in order to learn, and to move forward.

I have shed the burden of guilt. I have shed the burden of my own inability. I have shed the burden of resentment. I am alive and awake, powerful and vulnerable, beautiful and threatening. More than anything, I'm just me.

The Dragon Lives.

Since October, I'd been unofficially promoted to assistant store manager while retaining the title of sales clerk. My manager was transferred to another store, and my new manager now had two stores to handle - thus, he left a lot of it over to my care. After two years, I felt capable to run the show, and I daresay I did so as well as I could. Even my disctrict manager was proud, I think, that my store barely had any issues, and that I didn't complain much. Why would I have ? My (ex-)colleagues were/are like family to me. My job was more than a job - I was a part of something else. Had great contacts with everyone.

My store shut its doors on the 24th of June of this year. I had a breakdown at work end April, and there was no one available to replace me. I was unable to work. I kept crying and crying and crying and even my manager was worried, as much about me as how he'd solve the workhours were I to not be able to work the following day. If it'd been just a job, I'd have indeed gone to the doctor's to get out of there - but I endured, for my store and my customers, and for my colleagues, because if I fell sick, then we were all in deep shit, with not a person to spare, and already understaffed. I was as relieved as I was sad when the 24th rolled past and the store was entirely emptied. Since July 1st, I am completely free of obligation, but I keep an eye out on my former family because the firm's been in very deep shit, itself. It's looking like it'll be saved though, along with my former colleagues' jobs, and I am so very relieved for them.

And still glad, for myself, that I am no longer working there. I've said it before and I will keep saying it: it was the best damn job EVER. But I learned all I needed. I saw the end of that chapter coming, and already started making plans for the future. One part of it will be creativity. I spent the past 6 months before the end unable to write. It's the first thing I did when my contract ended.

So in finality: I love you, Free Record Shop. May you prosper and return to your former glory, and may this family I loved prosper as well.

Recently, I spoke with an old friend. Discussed certain things that had gone wrong between us, and as I thought the conversation was going well, she suddenly turned on me and blamed me for everything that had gone wrong, and using another of her friends as indirect reason for her blatant hatred.

It is true I'd had issues with that friend of hers before. And the guilt had never left my heart, so I spoke with her, and I discovered a kind-hearted, albeit strong-willed and a bit intimidating woman who held absolutely no grudge towards me. In retrospect, 'all' I did was to ignore her. Still, from discussions of 5 years ago with the old friend, I'd gotten the feeling that her friend hated me deeply for whatever I'd done to her. I realized, at last, this was absolutely not the case. So, when she tried again to use her friend as a beating stick, I repelled the attack and fought back.

Why I never had before, was because I was afraid of losing this friend - but, right then and there, I understood I had no need for her anymore, that I was clinging to a false hope. To a false image. To someone full of deceit, who dared say to me she didn't understand what I was going on about when I told her I felt like she coiled away whenever I tried to get close to her. My instinct always told me I was being shown a mask - I was right. And realized, I had always be shown a mask. It pained me to see this friend was no friend at all, and perhaps never truly had been - used me as she perhaps uses this friend, to fill her own life, to exist through someone else, desperately, for she is but a void herself. So I filled that void with a truth.

I told her that the reason I'd rejected her friend all those years ago, was because I realized I loved her more than my boyfriend at the time. Which is... terrible, horrible to say, pains me to no end, because I could have avoided his heartache had I admitted sooner to myself that something wasn't right between us (not just this, though). But, I didn't. Because I needed to be loved, after a decade of depression. His love gave me self-worth and it is something I choose to value, something very important, invaluable. Much as it is stained by my self-deceit. But I needed to believe in this love to exist. It was the missing piece of the puzzle of my life, which I could not find within my characters.

I had a hard time telling my current boyfriend about this. I did, though, and he listened as he is wont to do, without much feedback to go on. But I only needed to speak and be heard. I have severed all ties in my heart for this old friend, whom I cannot speak of as a friend anymore - just some person I once knew, who holds no more value, as I hold no value to her. This was the most painful thing about the venom she spat at me, the last of which I never read: no gratitude. Not a shred of evidence that she even felt glad I was there for her during the hardest times of her life. I know what I have meant. I know that, without me, she might not be here with us anymore - and the opposite is true, as well. We were extremely close and grew up together, even though I was six years older than her... but I'd missed my entire adolescence. She started to turn on me when I got my first job and I couldn't be online as much anymore (7-hour time difference, USA-Belgium). It started long before she met her new friend, and is likely the reason she turned towards her and away from me. Having been friends for so long, having loved her, this void she left me with I couldn't bear. But this void has been filled with others, who truly care about me, and whom I care about.

Goodbye, quicksand beast. I will still feel gratitude for meeting you, for loving you, and will expect you to deal with my words eventually, for otherwise there will be no life for you. I don't want all these years, all this care, to have been for naught, and I want to believe you're better than this - you just need to believe it, yourself.

I have made new friends. After years of preciously guarding my heart, of hoarding every piece of it like a dying Dragon, I am capable again of loving others. Of giving of myself. Of letting go. I've even been able, little by little, of regaining some sort of relationship with my ex, whom I prefer to refer to as an old friend. I don't like the word 'ex'. Ex means 'outside', and that just isn't accurate anymore. There is a long road ahead, but like all things worth while, they take time. All people I gather round, are people important in some way or another, consciously or not. People whom I'm supposed to assist, in one way or another, more than being assisted myself. They drift towards me of their own accord. I don't yet know what to think of this but, as I open myself more to the possibilities, I believe this trend will accentuate. The friends I make nowadays, are all of the open mind. People I need, people who need me, equals. Many things must still happen. What they are, is up to all of us, but I feel great changes. Nothing negative, just change. And it might be a bumpy ride.

In the spirit of change, a few words.

Go forth, O Dragon,

And rise from the ashes

of your dominion.

Rise, power of the Elders,

And bring about change

for those who suffer and pray.

Hear the voices of the Prime,

bear the words of the Calm;

Change, and be Time.

Thanks for reading. I plan on using this blog now as a venting space for my novel-to-be, much as I will still now and again update with other things. Writing these is therapeutic. And I love writing. And I... just, love.

Dive into the psyche

Last night, I had a psychological dream. What makes it psychological, you might ask ? The moment I was awake, I realized I'd just taken a tour through my own psyche.

I dreamt I was supposed to go to a wedding. I wasn't dressed right, as in, I wore a pair of my favorite jeans (it has golden flames at the bottom), and a black Dragon T-shirt (which is my favorite subject to wear). But I wasn't properly dressed for it, everybody else was wearing pretty dresses and suches and I wasn't, so I felt out of place.

(recently, we went to a wedding. It was for one of bf's nieces. It didn't go so well. Not only was I bored out of my mind, which isn't uncommon for me at obligatory gatherings, but I discovered that this side of his family has no idea what 'family' means. At the table of the newlyweds, no parents, only friends. We were shocked. I am still shocked and apalled, as I noticed how hurt the bride's mother was. This was nearly two weeks ago.)

Now, I still remained at this wedding party, and as I turned around, I came face to face with a person I thought I'd never see again. She stared at me with wide, shocked eyes at seeing me. I did not share the shock, and rather extended a hand in greeting. She gave her hand for a fraction of a second, just like a lump of meat sliding through my fingers, and then I said: not in this manner. And I left.

(this person is a former friend. We were friends for 15 years, until I realized she really wasn't the friend she imagined she was, and that I simply didn't care anymore. Her dream reaction is not an exagerated one, I can say this with certainty. My reaction is how I would react were I to meet her: I bear no ill will, I haven't for a while now.)

People went after me to try and get me to talk to this old friend. They wanted me to try and make things better, but I told them quite calmly: I am not the problem, it'll have to come from her side. It was clear to me she didn't want me there, especially since it seems the dream was about the wedding of one of her sisters. Friends came after me to still try and persuade me to come along. As I walked away, I tore dozens of stories of a skyscraper off through telekinesis, but I ended up simply putting it back down because I realized the people in the tower had nothing to do with my frustration.

(at the wedding of bf's niece, I got so irate because I wasn't allowed to leave. I had to work the next day, it was 11:30pm and we'd only just eaten the main course. We were outside the room and my voice went shrill as I said I was going to break something. At that moment, I could've hit him, or shoved him into a wall, brutally. I was enraged.)

One person still followed me as the street became a sort of scaffolding hung above nothingness. The surroundings made me think of horror movies, yet now that I think about it more specifically the game Resident Evil 4. The scaffolding was sturdy, but there was no visible bottom. The walls around us, at about three or so meters all around the labyrinthine scaffolding, were boarded with grey or dark brown wooden planks, same as the floorboards. At some point, when the scaffolding became darker and the walls loomed further upon us, I told the person we had to go back. That's when the floorboards began to rumble and fall, and it is but through sheer will that I commanded the boards beneath our feet not to. I woke up soon hereafter as the scent of coffee pervaded my dream, and I opened my eyes to see my bf in the dark, holding out a cup.

The last part of the dream explored my psyche the furthest. I am a person of darkness. I know this. There's alot of it, and I am capable of destruction. In this context, however, it has a different meaning.

The wedding part illustrates my discontent when it comes to being forced into situations, which is a trait acquired because of the former friend whom modeled me into something I wasn't, and who simply couldn't handle who I really was once she discovered the true me. That is why I then fled into darkness, because it is a place where no one will follow me - it is also a place of danger, one I will only tread when writing. It isn't a truly safe place, especially for others, but my darkness is my own, and I don't expect nor wish anyone to follow me there. In the dream, I decided to walk back because I felt it was going to become dangerous for the person accompanying me. At the wedding part, I decided to leave because I didn't want to ruin everyone's fun. I suppose it makes me as altruistic as it makes me selfish. I choose my actions with knowledge of possible consequences; I'd rather people complain I wasn't there, than about my actually being there.

All in all, I can't quite explain that dream to its full extent. I just know I learned something about me; or, rather, something I already thought I knew about myself, has proved itself to be correct.

And perhaps more surprisingly, I slept great. But I was glad the dream ended when it did.

Through the looking glass

This is the moment when, as you decide it is time to try and draw that continent's map, and do so while following already established countries and regions, you realize it makes no physical sense as is and you need to create yet more regions, which means more people and cities and history and details and thusly grasp your head in your hands, scream mentally for all hell to hear and shudder, and decide it's time to pull out the liquor. Which, for now, will be tea and probably chips. Since I'm not fat enough.

There's been a lot on my plate, of which nothing truly major, but all tiny little things have led to a slight burnout. I'm tired, don't sleep well, and thus am more tired. I can't really say I'm stressed though. It's just... one of those times when you're just not feeling well, with no reasonable cause, and figure something's happening, elsewhere, and is having an effect on you. A shift of sorts. Which kind of leads me to a thought I had this morning.

Everybody, at least once in their lives, has met this type of person that gives back what they receive. If you respect them, they'll respect you, and if you fuck with them, you can rest assured they will pay you back for it. You've got the people who do this consciously, by choice; then you have the people who start doing it before you've even said a word to them. In the latter, you've got the people who are paranormally gifted; then you have the people who rely on observation and instinct. I think I'm a bit of both, but as I am one who longs to believe in anything supernatural, I am all the more sceptical of it. So, I believe it has more to do with an acute sense of observation, and animal instinct. I tend to know right away who I can trust, and act this way, sometimes before even really knowing a person. Then there's polite people I only want to be bitchy towards, for absolutely no reason. And I tend to be especially good at picking out people who just want to screw me over, or whom I'm not to trust - even without their really doing anything special by that point. I just feel it. And return what I feel, rather than what I get.

I've got a name for people like this: mirror people. We reflect your inner self, and show you who you are. The times I've not listened to my instinct are the times I've regretted, so I'm learning to silence the rationnal, 'human' part of my mind, and simply listen to the instinctual, 'animal' part of me. Whomever has observed animals long enough, know them for being truthful, sincere creatures: if they like you, they'll show it; if they don't, they'll show it as well. I've watched my cats be in 'fights' around the yard: it amounts to a staring contest, with or without sound. A simple and effective way to show supremacy. Humans aren't very good at this. Humans, on the whole, seem unable to look into another and understand them. It's a useful ability though. But exhausting. It's not something I can shut off; I'm always aware of my surroundings. But it takes sight for the mirroring to be active, and even then it, thankfully, isn't systematic. And I had the bright idea to be a store clerk << there are times it's tough, but mostly it's an asset, since the majority of people who come inside are looking for help to find something, and it makes me happy to do so - because I make them happy. And when you get those uber-happy customers, well... let's just say I feel awesome then.

But when I'm home alone, like right now, I need to recharge my batteries. It's draining. Draining to be aware of so much, constantly, to think of so much so often... I am aware. It's a complex feeling. Like being half here, half over there, in a parallel place made for spirits and not bodies. It sounds tremendously dumb when I say it. I know this. Yet I say it. For me, it's a reality. I enjoy this life, but I can grow oh so weary of it. Like it isn't where I'm supposed to be, even though it really is. A sort of dissociation between realities, or maybe just the expression of wishful thinking. I don't know. What I do know is that I rarely feel alone. Right now, I feel watched - not in the paranoid sense. Rather... the accompanied sense. But I digressed.

Be I crazy or be I aware of something else - all I know is that it makes life really tricky sometimes. But, also really easy when you just know whom you are to trust. Or, sometimes, what you are to do. Who you are to be, and simply who you are. But I don't know this last one yet. Just that I'm me. And, for some people, that's just more than enough.

Religion, this complex amalgam

I'd started writing a post, then decided I didn't want to write it anymore. It still felt good to write it.

You know what doesn't feel good ? Not writing. It's been some pretty annoying weeks, last one has had too many shitty moments, and here I am, alone at last, and... I can't write. Worse, I don't want to write.

It's hard. Excruciatingly hard, to construct a world. I realized I am extremely limited in my imagination by my realism. I don't dare let it loose. Why ? I don't know. Afraid it won't be 'realistic' anymore. Hello in there, we're writing a FANTASY novel; you get to be unrealistic! It's prevented me from writing my latest Erjin post, simply because I realized my view of her city was far too 'human'. She's Elven, for pete's sake. The city is majoritarily Elven. And yet, as I described it to myself and overviewed it, it felt oh so shamefully human. Worse, 'realistic'. And let it be known I am not pleased with reality. I know at heart I hate humanity for being just that: human. Flawed in its design, bound to revel in routine and normalcy and even if it strives for that something more, it is still bound in utter normalcy: money, fame, family, you name it. It doesn't mean I hate people though. In fact, there are some people I enjoy, people who make this world a better place just by being themselves, and because they are being themselves. Honesty and justice rank very high in my list of priorities. Sometimes I fail at them. Overall, people who know me, recognize me for a few things: I'm frank, even rude; I'm honest, even blunt; I'm into Dragons. That last one can almost be called a trademark of me. You love it or you hate it, but as long as you respect me even if you disagree with me, then I'll respect you.

I'd read something on wikihow that got my fangs all curled up. I was looking on Google for some kind of guide on how to create a fantasy country, figure out some basic info and whatnot... I thus discovered wikihow. A little while later, after I danced in glee for my discovery, I looked up 'name god fantasy' or so because I had (wait, HAVE) issues naming my human empire's deity. I stumbled upon an article called "
How to Argue That God Exists (Christianity)". Let it be said right now I'd understood it as how to argue against christianity, and that their god is not my own, but I do believe he must exist in some form or other (as all other gods). Now, what got my goat are these two 'tips':

• Don't force your beliefs on people. It's rude. Teach them: That is kind, as you may save their souls from perdition (definition: "the future state of the wicked," dictionary.com)^[5]
• If you expect people to respect your opinions, respect theirs first while leading them to Jesus Christ.

I read these, and the first word popping up into my mind is 'sect'. The first one condones brainwashing for the sake of saving the person's soul. Pride is a sin: if you believe you can teach another because you have the only 'true' faith, then you're a sinner. The second one is everything that is wrong with christianity: the hypocrisy. You can't respect another person's opinion if you fundamentally believe they are wrong anyway, and you must convert them (pride again). Now, God created mankind in his image, but he also gave us free will; this means we have God's approval to not believe in him, even if he'd rather we do (but this is another debate entirely). Therefore, these so-called christians are committing a crime against their god, for not letting the 'heathens' not believe in him. I believe in Dragons and they've made me a better person. These christians miss the point that their god is love, and that to love is to accept another's differences unconditionally.

There are of course other (contradictory) points to that religion, which I don't know well enough to get into. But these are things I remember from class 15 years ago, and also things I feel are correct (but correct me anyway if you feel I'm wrong). Experience taught me that the forces you choose to 'worship' will guide you - it's up to you whether you choose the light or the dark side, or even something in between. Unless you choose a deity of war or dominance, which I don't believe God is about, then you've got no right forcefully conveying your faith. Faith is supposed to make you a better person, but won't necesarily make another person better. The most explicit and well-known example I can think of, is 'God bless America': does America really seem blessed to you ? The people who say these words, the highest ranking politicians (and gods am I seeing Bush right now), only say them to make you believe God condones their actions. God gave you free will: it therefore can't be his will that people get slaughtered, captured, tortured and humiliated, on top of losing their lands and their freedom.

Yes, I hate humanity on the whole. I hate the lies, the wickedness, the immorality. Thankfully, singular individuals redeem their kind. Smiling people remind me there are some who, like me, strive for a better life, and to promote it. The worthwhile individuals. I hope I'm amongst them, though selfishly I do believe so. Interestingly enough, I find those people to possess more animal instinct. Perhaps, to be more human, we ought to observe animals better, in the wild or even our domestic companions. Both my cats enjoy my presence. I take pride in this fact which, to me, certifies I'm a good human being.

On love and support

Though I feel hypocritical complaining about my better half's lack of support, I do need to do so. He's finally back at work and I finally, I do mean finally, have days to myself again, after about six months. In the meantime, I've not written anything significant aside from Erjin's blog (and I'm a day late with this). I've not done anything artistic, nothing of real import save to live, and to keep on going despite several financial difficulties, which in the end are all but minor inconveniences. As the cliché goes, as long as there's life, there is hope - I agree. The issues aren't over, but I have every bit of faith they will be soon enough - why ? Because I have every bit of faith they will be, period. I believe in higher powers, believe in their signs and even believe they'ved crossed my path several times before. Always for the better. I believe. Sadly, I believe more in them, than I believe in myself. Here is where the gripe comes in.

I mentioned to bf that I need support writing my novel - true and blunt. I tried explaining I need this support, but I don't think it really made its way through in that thick brain of his. Likely because he, in ways, feels unappreciated because of things I do and don't do. It's a vicious cycle. What matters to him matters little to me and, worse, is counter-productive to my well-being... this is where the artists' illogic comes in. I like to let my clothes hang on chairs. I do, in some ways I enjoy it even, not just for its practical value (I have all my work clothes at hand, which happen to be my home/outside clothes as well), but because I need that itsy bit of chaos to feel at ease. This is my necesary chaos. I understand it would bother another, especially if they were raised differently. I still need my chaos. Do not touch the clothes. It's not a lack of respect towards him (though I realize it indirectly is), but I imagine he does take it as such. There's then other things I don't do, where I know it's just not being alone for months that make me not care. Today, I vacuumed nearly the entire house, scrubbed some parts of the kitchen floor, put out the clothes to dry in the sun, and even emptied the dishwasher. I did not touch the clothes, and don't plan to. I am content with what I've done, and am going to work on the novel some, and write Erjin's blog. Tonight, when bf comes home, I'll ask him to read it. He won't do it. I'll feel unappreciated in my personal endeavour.

I think this is why artists need to show off what they do: feedback. Good, bad, critic, support, questions, everything: we need it. Bf isn't capable of it. I remember, in the beginning, I drew him a Dragon... a perception of who I see within him. I never really got the feeling he enjoyed it... perhaps he didn't know how to ? I imagine I'm the first and only person ever to make something like that for him. I guess I'd be confused too. But, somewhere deep inside, I still feel hurt by the lack of response, and even the fact it's stored away... it's safe, amid all our important real life papers. Still, I feel hurt. Turned aside for being different, and not quite capable to adapt to normalcy. Not that he asks me to be normal... not directly, anyway. I have no qualms with normalcy, just know that'll never be me. My life hasn't been normal since I was 14 and fell head first into a deep depression due to bullying. I could kick their asses now with no problem, but the girl of back then ? She's still with me, and she still remembers how it feels to be turned aside, shunned, plagued for being different. All I'd done was succeed at my exams after a couple of months of absence. That was my sin, and one classmate in particular apparently couldn't digest it. Still, this is a long time ago, and much water has passed beneath the bridge. But I remember. I'll always remember, and always fight injustice, wherever I encounter it. This is the blessing I've received from making it through the desert, so to speak. But a weakness as well, for without even but one person to believe in me, I give up, and start tagging along the nearest lifeline. Because I don't dare shutting myself out to do what I believe is important, for myself. If I shut myself out, I might not be able, or even want, to return.

I have several characters who are immortal. It's difficult to get into their heads, because it means letting go of the self-awareness that I, am mortal. I nearly manage to, freak out, then stop. It's a feeling of absoluteness, of existence without outside influence: power, possibility. Solitude. It's comparable in intensity. Terrifying, but also quite exhilirating. There was a time I had no personality. I created it, bits and pieces through roleplaying. I created characters, who grew and gained personality, and discovered my own through them, for better or worse. I've since glued the pieces together, which has made it harder to focus on the characters, for I need to tear down what I've built. This is where I need bf to understand how and why I need his support: to stay whole, even fragmented. I'm a terrible person when it comes down to showing love, but I also know the importance he has in my life, the necesity he has become for me to be... well, me. Perhaps I should try and explain this sometime, but... he already knows I'm crazy, let's not add to it. Besides, I'm not sure he could understand... I don't think I understand it all, either. All I know is: it's hard. I know what I want, I know what I need, yet I can't seem to get quite there.

Oh well. I should start writing. Farren's a bitch. For one chapter of novel, I need to figure out tons of intertwined information. It's nuts. And yet I enjoy it. Blegh!

Deep connections - a necessary evil ?

As I was reminiscing on a past close friendship and how we eventually drifted apart to better lead our own lives, I happened upon the realization that deep connections terrify me to no end. Therefore, I harbor none. I do know a few people whom I consider close friends, even the friend whom I drifted away from - these are strong friendships born of trust and an understanding of each other rather than frequent socializing. Paradoxally, I value friendship way too much to limit it to seeing each other, or even often talking. It isn't a necessaity for me, and I actively avoid people who demand this much of me. Been there, done that, never again, as I've grown past these needs. In a way, I'm too old for this. I enjoy my solitude but, again paradoxally, I can't function without these trusted friendships. I'd like to think I'm at least somewhat important to them, but at the same time I refuse to get too attached in fear of getting hurt, again. I do keep people at a certain distance, close enough to have a home in my heart, but far enough I won't be hurt by being just 'a friend'. I suppose it conflicts with trust, but it isn't other people I don't trust: it's me. I refuse attachment because I don't have enough left of me to give out correctly. I have been drained, for years, and I'm still playing catch-up. Thus now I take more than I give. I know this. I realize this every day, and every day again I feel as though I am unworthy of what I am given. I never return what I am given, locked away behind doors of stone of which the key was broken years ago. No one, not a soul, may pass the threshold. I think it's impaired my writing abilities as well, as it's become exceedingly hard to get into my characters' brains.

Most of all, it hurts me every day to get the feeling I don't return the love that bf gives me, every day again. I'm incapable of opening up. Refuse it, adamantly, as fear and scars are etched deep inside my heart. Days I wonder what love is, and whether I really am capable of giving it - which I rationally know I do. I sometimes compared my feelings for bf and ex, at least what I remember of those days, and two things come abruptly to mind: one, the 'love' I felt for ex wasn't love at all, it was mad, blind attachment, and two, it was fierce and powerful in all its madness, but doesn't compare to the feeling of serenity I now possess... at the same time, this peace is what confuses me. Terrifies me, even, as I wonder whether it's normal to feel at peace and not something... more. I miss the something more. I miss the deep connection, and though I want to be able to share this with bf, it seems impossible at present. It was easier with ex, but that's because we talked an enormous amount (much more pre-relationship, when he still considered me an equal and not a child), and we shared artistic abilities. I try and force bf to step into my world and join me here, but forcing really isn't helpful at all. If it doesn't come from within, it's not going to come at all. And I can't exactly explain the importance of that inner world filled with beauties and monsters... it's just all me. To know me, you must follow me into my madness. It's a dangerous trip, and therefore I keep everyone at bay. For having known how it is to get lost in someone else's world, and forgoing your own.

But oh, how I long to establish such a connection again. Healthier, but based on the same principle of sharing your inner world with a person willing to listen and understand, which so far I'd say hasn't been a person I found. Well, bf comes the closest to this. It's just the (apparent) lack of investment that, sometimes, makes me just want to fold away into myself, who seems to be the only one understanding what it means to be me. A shattered, glued-back-together personality held together by the love of a man who fails in the single department I selfishly need him most to to succeed: reading. And, by extension, comprehending.

In the end, I think I'm just my own biggest obstacle/issue/grievance: I think way, way too much for my own good.

I hate writer's block. WITH A PASSION.

So it's been four months since BF quit his previous job. Since then, I haven't written much except for Erjin's blog, and I've not being doing that one for that long. BF works again, he's going to be home uber late, and here I sit, for hours, complaining to myself I'm getting nothing done. I've lost the ability to write. Again. And I goddamn have ALL DAY to do something. Nope. I'm actually hoping complaining here is going to get my brain going, as I have a lot of re-working to do.

Oh yeah, I am a writer. Sorta. Right now I'm thinking: hmm, that map I made of the world, it needs an overhaul. A massive one, as it needs to be fully redone. I think of it in terms of inhabitants and compare it to my own view of it: nope, does not compute. Way too far to the east, needs to be more towards the middle. I'm driving myself utterly mad with my detail-oriented mind that just LOVES to laugh at me for being a dumbass. No, seriously. It's madness.

I swear I write much better overall than I'm doing here <<

Oh yeah, Erjin's blog ? Over there. If you're interested. If not, well, I'm still gonna go my way, and try to get any sort of progress done. I expect an epic fail.

In conclusion: GRARGH.