A Musing

Well, since it has been almost an entire year since I posted something on this blargh, I should probably update it. Seeing as how I'm graduated and all now, it shouldn't be too hard to post something every couple of days, yeah? So here's this rambly thing I wrote last night at 2 A.M. after standing out in the wind in my pajamas and slippers for twenty minutes. It's emo tripe as far as I'm concerned, but it did have the remarkable side effect of breaking the case of creative writer's block I've had since the tail end of last summer.

Emotional rambly tripe follows:

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These scribblings and ramblings that I write, they are not art, no form of literature. No, rather they are the musing of one who oft wakes from blister-packed dreams, pixellated hope, and a blindness to the world that can only be brought about by technology. Though I see sights international, riots and revolutions, sins and scandals from Oklahoma to Oman, Louisiana to Libya, I do NOT see the beauty in my own back yard. A thousand explosions of light and sound scream at me from LCD screens and Dolby Surround speakers, but only when the power goes out do I stop...

Stand on the rim of a dry fountain

And listen to the wind, feel it wrap around me, ripping through my clothing and folding the cloth about me like the sail of a foundering ship. The wind is my friend, and as I stand there, I am a lord of storms. None can truly take the wind from me: North, South, East, West, these are not the wind, not all of them. Even if I were shut in a sightless pit, the wind passes through me.

In. Out.

Breathe.

In. Out.

A chain of lights in hibernating trees. Two lovers holding each other up against the attacks of the Aeolian and the Alcoholic. The terrific gusts knocking down Christmas decorations left up a day too long.

Do I join them?

No.

I belong with the wind. Maybe some time I can drift among the trees, race across the grasses and wheat fields of the Palouse, skim the rims and ridges of indifferent buildings, shops and apartments and hospitals and bars and

EXPLODE

into thin air, swirling madly about, not caring who sees or what they think. I will be the wind, not a batty twenty-something who cleans toilets and drives a bus.

Not someone who, to escape the mundane of the "real" world, inundates himself with the fake smiles and colored lights of the immortal, immaterial, digital frontier. The dragon slaying, the laser rifles, the fireballs and time travel and nanomachines and Elves... I make my home away from reality amongst these. But these are worlds men are not meant to stay in. Not for long.

Not when I could, without removing myself and sequestering my thoughts outside my mind so I cannot hear them, or worse, let them hear me, find the "real." Not when, because of my infatuation with the Information Age, I can't see the beauty of the world. All the imaginary worlds crammed into my mind obscure the real world, art imitating life, art replacing life, art destroying life.

Let's play pretend, you and I. I'll be the Hero, you be the dragon, okay? And she can be the Princess.

Oddly, sometimes I feel like the Princess. And no, that's not a statement about sexuality, that's a moment of empathy I'm having with the endangered dames, the damsels in distress. Like them, I'm waiting for something.

What, though? Something I'm not sure is coming? Ever?

Maybe, as I start another paragraph of this rant and another metaphorical page in my life, the problem, and I start with a maybe because the uncertainty is a part of this as well, maybe I don't even know what exactly it is I'm looking for. I hear drunken laughter from the flat next door. The two lovers have gone home, laughing and swearing and listening to Rush songs at a hundred and twenty decibels. And they are terrible at karaoke.

Is that what I want? Do I offer up prayers for that kind of companionship? Someone I can sing poorly with and they won't mind the botched harmony because it's me singing it? Someone who blurs my troubles away, more with kindness than with distilled spirits? To be able to grab a quilt and lie down on the couch with them and just... listen to the wind?

Like the wind itself, that might blow me away.

But.

There's always a but.

Is that what I'm looking for? What I want... what I want right now is for the lovely couple who lives next door to turn their music down so I can hear my own thoughts, let them hear me, and hear the wind sing me to sleep. I'm not a lord of storms, as cool as that would be. I'm just another guy, done with the education he was expected to complete, and yet, finding that he's learned only that he knows nothing, really, and that his head's as empty as the street outside his window.

Empty, except for the wind sweeping through it at the speed of thought, carrying with it dreams and new ideas for my own little make-believe worlds.

...wow, this really sounds emo. But writing it down made me feel better. That's the definition of catharsis, is it not?

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And now, for something completely different! BATMAN IS A BRONY. YOUR ARGUMENT IS INVALID.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicH7q34PJbZHgg7JStZzYhM8Ex5uzBJmHxgh_8xwk_z7PvCCzQhEYmqzRlap9OK20kLOA-Zn5-QeNm39XSA0BVQQO7iGtRs_RrvhM0PA6sV6s4N1Z0l5uk1YGmERsRNKUpMCAVU1LtrYNw/s1600/104094+-+artist+john_joseco+Batman+dc_comics+luna.jpg

Art by the legendary John Joseco

Nightborne Foe of Sleep and Dreams

Insomnia. This doesn't happen to me very often, but on the rare occasion that it strikes, insomnia does one of two things. It either forces me to lie awake thinking of things I'm supposed to be doing, or writing. Tonight, or perhaps this morning, I have opted for the latter.

Book news!

My second book, which as I've mentioned before is called "Hero in Hiding" for the time being, is still finished. The editing's not. And for some reason, insomnia does not aid the editing process. However, I am in the process of turning my first book into a musical. That's right, a Gilbert and Sullivan, Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog style musical. And I really want it to be awesome. It's kind of fun so far, as I have written:

1. Mwa Ha (The Monologue Song)
2. Mwa Ha Reprise
3. Stargazing (Someone's watching over you)
4. It's a Nice Day for Heroics

and have planned several others, including

1. Three Against One (Reginald's Fight Song)
2. Got You at my Mercy (Or Lack Thereof)
3. Got You at my Mercy (Apprentice Hero Remix)
4. This is How it Works (Complete Guide to Heroics)
5. This is How it Works (Complete Guide to Magic)
6. One Wedding Plus Bandits
7. End on a Sad Note (It's a Dark Day for Heroics)

and quite a few more. Twenty-three planned songs, in fact. It's a lot of work, and while I know how I kind of generally want them to sound, I don't have a whole lot of musical talent. I need someone to write the music for me, and I don't know anyone who does that. Maybe I can take it up with the Music department at the University of Idaho. Maybe some poor fool of a graduate student will be strange and silly enough to tackle such a task. Who knows. I'll pray about it, I suppose. And no, I'm not just rhyming because I've been songwriting. I'm rhyming because of all the night writing. Or more correctly, the lack of sleep. Note to self: never write anything after three a.m.

On a sad note, it looks like I'm not going to have the money to attend the Oregon Christian Fiction Writers convention. I had to cover rent and some bills for a good friend of mine, one of my housemates. I've known the guy a long time, and he's good for it, it just might be a little while until I get it back. He finally got a job last week (answered prayer, that is), and is in pretty good spirits about it. We'll pull through, but the convention's going to have to wait for next year.

Topic Change! I've no idea how it has been nearly three weeks since I posted on this blog, but so much has been going on around here, it doesn't really surprise me. We had one friend take off as of the last post, one friend leave the house possibly for good, and one is leaving this coming week, definitely for good. He's off to Las Vegas to become some awesome lighting director or something and put his dramatic talents to good use. He hopes. The job market in Vegas is just as crummy as it is here. And if it takes three, four months to get a job here, well... good luck, good sir.

And just the last thing for this post: you should all go see the movie "Despicable Me" if you haven't already. It's the best six dollars and fifty cents I've spent all year. I got a great laugh, which I really needed, and got to see Villains fighting each other and kooky Minions of a different flavor than my own. It's funny, it's great for kids, and I probably laughed the loudest of anyone in the theater. It also gave me funny ideas for what to do with Voshtyr... if he ever has kids.

That's it, you may go about your daily business UNLESS you posted a comment on my last blog, in which case you must read further.

Replies for my awesome followers!

Jessica: I'm loving your blog. It's not every girl who has her mind set on things above, who looks to keep herself pure until marriage. Trust me, in our sex-saturated culture, especially in our colleges, that's a noble goal and a hard one. Good for you, and keep truckin'. And no, you're not bothering me. It's nice to have vocal fans, so post away! Here, DeviantArt, FanFiction.net, wherever!

Kate: Love your blog too, and a lot of your picture on Facebook. I've always loved those big, steampunky goggles. And I sooooo want some. They always bring out the mad scientist in me. Mwahahahaha! The world is mine! Eheh, heh heh, except I don't actually know any sort of science to help me do that. I'll just stick to wish fulfillment through fantasy writing. If I can't take over the world myself, I'll just have to get Voshtyr to do it for me.

DeeAnn: I would LOVE to do something for Wondersome! You know me and kids. I did a big thing (well, big compared to things like grains of rice and ants) at Newport High and Middle schools a year or so ago along that same train of thought. I'd be happy to ride that train through Wondersome. If you want to send me an email or set things up with them, I'd be happy to run with it. Just send me an email or something. As you can see, my blogging is... somewhat less than reliable.

Angelica: You can't lean too far over on a Segway. It auto-corrects for all the back and forth movement you do by changing speed. Even if you lean back, it doesn't back up very fast, and you can always lean forward a bit to stop. Actually, stopping entirely's the trickiest part.

As for the relationship thing, well, as with a lot of breakups, it was complicated. I won't bore you with the details, but brace yourself for a long story nonetheless.

The first girl who ever paid any real attention to me was at Hillsdale College when I went there in 2006. She was pretty, pretty geeky, and a good Christian. Heck, she was geekier than me. I didn't know what "Babylon 5" was before I met her, and now it's one of my favorite retro sci-fi TV shows. The problem was, I ran out of money because Hillsdale was an expensive private school. She was from a fairly well-off family, and stayed because the education was awesome. We maintained a really mild 'keep-in-touch' kind of relationship for a few months and all was well.

It wasn't until her dad called me and said 'hey, would you like to jump out of a box to surprise my daughter on her birthday?' that things got complicated. Her folks flew me out to Washington, D.C. where she was an intern with the Ninja Justice Society... er, National Journalism Society, and we have a hilarious video of me popping out of a box. I spent a week with her and her folks, playing Tourist from Idaho in D.C. And, of course, when it was too hot, watching almost ALL of Babylon 5.

We got to see each other every now and then from then on, but only once every three months or so, when one of us would end up on the other's coast, usually because her dad bought one of us a plane ticket. Did I mention she's an only child? Her dad dotes on her really good, and I can see why. She's a swell person.

But the problem is, it didn't last. Over the two years or so we'd known each other, we'd spent barely three weeks of it together. It wasn't until the last visit that I figured out what was wrong. I didn't love her. It sounds like a callous and horrible thing to say, but there were a lot of things that just finally dawned on me that visit that told me we'd never have a happy marriage, and believe me, I'd been considering it.

My reasons sound kind of petty, but I think it can be make or break for a relationship if your lifelong mate despises asian food, and you love it. Or can't stand vegetables and you love stir-fry. Or wants to run Republican societies when you're more of a moderate plus morals. I figured it out about three days after she left, and rather than have anyone waste plane fare, I figured I'd sent a well-thought out letter. That's more personal and real than a phone call... or heavens forbid, a break-up text. Do people actually DO that garbage? Anyway, I puzzled that letter out for two or three days before I finally had the wisest people I know (my folks) look it over just to make sure I was kind and loving in my thoughts and words, and wasn't being stupid or callous or thoughtless in anything I said. And then I sent it.

The reply was devastating. She used a bunch of cruel words that started with the letter D, such as 'deceitful' and 'defrauded.' The last lines were to the effect that I should never contact her again. I didn't know she had such venom in her. I still regret to this day losing a friendship with such an amazing girl, but in the long run, I stand by the decision. I don't want to become part of the divorce statistic among Christians. Especially if it's over something as simple as wanting an egg roll and some teriyaki every now and then.

And there you have it. My first and only relationship and its fiery crash of an ending. Thanks for asking and putting up with the reading. I hadn't ever really talked with anyone about this (though I did write some truly horrible poetry after the fact, which is now consigned to oblivion, courtesy of the 'empty recycle bin' button) and I think it helps, just a little bit. And now it's on the internet forever. I am truly a genius. Only, you know, less smart and more durrrrr.

End of rambling reply. I resolve to post more frequently, and at less length from now on. We'll see how long that resolution lasts.