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Difficulties
16 years ago
General
are abundant. I've been getting distracted. Forgetting that this place is my punishment, and thus failing my duty. Failing my honor. Pleasure that causes pain... Why must the universe be this way? It's kind of ironic. I have a lot of improvments that still need to be made. I seek now to affirm my resolve, and tighten my discipline. I have been far, far too lax.
The others are carefree and, really, how can I blame them...? They have no responsibilities. They observe the work being done from the outside. They don't have to experience the horror. The agony. The shame. It's so easy to let go, to wash my paws of this and just let this body die, thrusting all of us back into the froth of probability where we may not find another life to live for a very, very, very long time.
I've inherited a lot of problems that are not mine. Sometimes I wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew. It certainly seems to be giving me my trouble's worth, if not more. There are vices that have been passed down; physiological urges; programmed responses; it's like being born addicted to cocaine. I'm struggling. Sometimes, I'm losing that struggle... but I won't give up yet. For instance. Today I have every intention of keeping caloric intake to a minimum again. I have my meals planned. But last night, I failed. Not only did I waste money on food I didn't need... but I also ate it. A kind of stress reaction? Stress never did this to me before, but it's done this to this body MANY times. I always used to sit in the background and wonder -why-. Short-term pleasure... in exchange for long-term pain.
It's not that I need to stop. I need to GO. I have to keep pushing or I will never be able to run again, NEVER be able to climb a flight of stairs without completely exhausting myself, NEVER be able to touch my paws. This prison of fat must NOT become tolerable to me. Every once in a while... I'll actually -forget- who I am... and what I'm trying to do. I'm actually becoming more worried about -that- than I EVER was about the mere FACT that I am a FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN CHARGE OF A "REAL" BODY. I was a canine! I had black fur! I had a tail! I was lean and fit! I was able to run AND fight! MY NAME IS CYRUS ALEREC DRAEGUR. Gods... Gods, please do not make me lose myself... I am all I have anymore...
I lost my entire BLOODY world, and now I risk losing myself.
...I never was on very good terms with the Gods in the first place, and the Storm cannot protect me here; It doesn't even -exist- in this world. Maybe I should spend my time planning, not praying.
It's time to go to work. At least... at least -that- is relatively easy. I'm good at not caring about the plights of skinsiders who are irresponsible with their resources, and better at faking compassion than the cub ever was.
---15:59-20:00---
updating at work, I suppose I could afford an explanation of what's been going on.
I have few allies in this world... but they're trustworthy individuals that are dear to my heart, for i've watched them behind the sight of the cub for so long. In his own way, the one called Diven, at least in his real-life persona, not the fictional character, is the salt of the earth type that i would've sought to offer shelter in shadow haven... someone i would've enjoyed the presence of, and appreciated the assitance of, for his wisdom and skills as he is a carpenter. He reminds me of oliver, in a strange way. Oliver used to be very down to earth as well. He was a talented, thoughtful, wise individual too, and I was often pleased to have his advice. If only Diven--the skinsider--could've existed in shadow haven. Alas; humans of h is calibre didn't exist. Nothing is the same here. There are a few similarities on the surface, but the mechanics are all off. The reason I bring him up is, there is a storytelling system that projects a world in a format where you compete against the dice rolls generated by a machine, and it is depicted in amusing detail--though crudely--upon a screen such as this one.
You take to calling it an MMO RPG, short for massively multiplayer online role playing game. I knew of these for some time, as the cub often played them, and i often wondered... why! I have, to my disappointed surprise, divulged the reason for this. You see... Diven is there--after a fashion.
Hauntingly resemblent of its incessant nature, the name EverQuest 2 is ... a sad joke. Not of irony, per se, but of understatement. The waste of countless hours seeking something that has no bearing on life, but -feels- productive, is perhaps the most decadent waste I have had the misfortune to experience firsthand. Not even shamelessly disingenuous attempted bribery by sycophantic emissaries compares, because at least this can be turned to useful ends at some point. The idea of throwing away precious time--and paying for it--made so little sense for as long as I knew of the child, I never fully understood how anyone could be so misled... until now. Diven has a character, and at some point, so did Aondil and Blackgrim, these two being the cub's friends from this world. They all quit, except for diven--and I remain as he does. To make matters worse, though, 'the others'--not dear sister Adrianna, but Allyssa and... well, it's either Niall or the cannibalized remains of the original Stone Hawk. These are souls that have been mostly quiet over time...
Allyssa has spent years trying to soothe her broken heart, and only now speaks out with an active voice, testing her balance as a Kerran Inquisitor on the Lucan D'lere server. Hawk... or O'connor as it may be, mey either be the voice of the Kerran Fury on the same. Niall O'connor has voiced--quietly--his interest in living as a healer rather than a murderer, as is his deepest shame to be; he brooks no forgiveness for himself that he was a soldier at the time, following orders, as I have needed to. In living as a healer, he does seem much more like the Stone Hawk I used to know--not the one from your world, a precocious pretender who hijacked an identity that he had no right to claim--but as a carefree traveling spirit whose wanderlust belied an appreciation for the simplest things. He was noble, in his charmingly dubious way. He was a rogue, though a kind one. His demeanor of kindness and respect for nature sounds a lot like the character I've been seeing, however, niall and stone have been stifled for so long, they seem hardly self-aware anymore; I am struggling to restore them.
Because they have the luxry of still being fictional, i have a very hard time disputing Allyssa's, Stone's, and Niall's desires to 'feel' alive, to 'experience' a world, much the way I once walked the halls of shadow haven... and actually thought it was real. ..because it was all I had. By no means do my memories seem small or ignorant, except in the context of bliss...
lyliac...
my gods, lyli...
There are two sets of memories in my mind now, as I have inherited those left to me by the boy when he ... broke; his concept of Lyli was naive and simplified... but mine... you can't imagine, the shimmer at the edge of her fur as the brilliance of dawn poured through our window--the soft glow of love in her eyes as the crack open for the first time. The scent of our bed, with our son still asleep between us. Even through the stabbing bitterness of loss, that one shining moment we would share is still the most treasured possession of my heart. Greif and joy wrack me at once in recollection.
...and I will never be able to gaze into her eyes again... never squeeze her hand in mine again... never taste her kiss; my senses are a curse to me. This is the agony to which I referred above. This is the horror. The shame lies in that I promised her I would never, ever leave her, that I would remain faithful if I would have to wait several lifetimes; and now, I am in a world where she does not even exist. I do not intend to take a mate here... but feel as though the sweet end of such a promise is not inattainable. I cannot fulfill the promise to be with my mate because... she does not exist here, and in your eyes, she is not even real...
I'm not considered real, according to 'you', either.
I cannot tell you how much I wish this were the truth; to be free of these shackles, to settle into the ignorant emptiness of probability. So why do I go on?
I will elaborate:
This body, these memories, are something that is important to many, many people. These memories are the echo of a soul, a soul that was very dear to two wise and honorable parents; a friend to a closely beloved cadre of intelligent and talented individuals; a respected colleague to a respectibly sized team and one very caring supervisor; and in himself... he was someone who had talent but never the drive or willpower to access it, one whom could have been great. It is my duty to preserve this for as long as I can; to soften the blow as much as I can... because I am the only one who can.
Niall has been quiet too long; he lacks the social capability and feels that he would not be able to handle the responsiblity in an adequate way. Stone Hawk is hardly a whole person anymore, and he knows he is also too irresponsible and flighty; he'd try to go roadside camping and cross-country hiking, and would likely get arrested for trespassing and/or vagrancy, both crimes that he disdainfully refuses to respect the existence of--which will not save him from their corresponding laws. Adrianna is female, for starters, and thinks that the idea of coming out to a male body--especially one so grotesque as this--is repulsive and disgusting, as if the two things were profoundly different and equally supplementary. Allyssa, on the other paw, is timid and shy, and has no interest in what terrors she may behold in this admittedly terrifying world.
I will not be inviting a stranger here. The gates are closed, until--IF--the cub decides to return someday, and IF I've finally managed to navigate his body, our body, into a position where it is at least very unlikely that he will destroy himself, and us with him... though it's easy to see our survival as tertiary next to his, if you can even call it that. We have already had one intruder, but he was a holdover from the cub's time; he was an avatar of chaos with no moral boundary. I had to remove him by force. It was not something I enjoyed to do.
And every passing day, it becomes harder to control the corrupted instincts and bad habits formed by this mound of flesh, this squishy, weak, witblunted husk. In attempting to oblige the comforts of all those around me and all those depending on me, I have allowed myself to neglect the things that I absolutely MUST do. And writing it all down here has helped me sort my mind some, as this is a situation that needs as much sorting as it can possibly get. More updates as they come...
The others are carefree and, really, how can I blame them...? They have no responsibilities. They observe the work being done from the outside. They don't have to experience the horror. The agony. The shame. It's so easy to let go, to wash my paws of this and just let this body die, thrusting all of us back into the froth of probability where we may not find another life to live for a very, very, very long time.
I've inherited a lot of problems that are not mine. Sometimes I wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew. It certainly seems to be giving me my trouble's worth, if not more. There are vices that have been passed down; physiological urges; programmed responses; it's like being born addicted to cocaine. I'm struggling. Sometimes, I'm losing that struggle... but I won't give up yet. For instance. Today I have every intention of keeping caloric intake to a minimum again. I have my meals planned. But last night, I failed. Not only did I waste money on food I didn't need... but I also ate it. A kind of stress reaction? Stress never did this to me before, but it's done this to this body MANY times. I always used to sit in the background and wonder -why-. Short-term pleasure... in exchange for long-term pain.
It's not that I need to stop. I need to GO. I have to keep pushing or I will never be able to run again, NEVER be able to climb a flight of stairs without completely exhausting myself, NEVER be able to touch my paws. This prison of fat must NOT become tolerable to me. Every once in a while... I'll actually -forget- who I am... and what I'm trying to do. I'm actually becoming more worried about -that- than I EVER was about the mere FACT that I am a FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN CHARGE OF A "REAL" BODY. I was a canine! I had black fur! I had a tail! I was lean and fit! I was able to run AND fight! MY NAME IS CYRUS ALEREC DRAEGUR. Gods... Gods, please do not make me lose myself... I am all I have anymore...
I lost my entire BLOODY world, and now I risk losing myself.
...I never was on very good terms with the Gods in the first place, and the Storm cannot protect me here; It doesn't even -exist- in this world. Maybe I should spend my time planning, not praying.
It's time to go to work. At least... at least -that- is relatively easy. I'm good at not caring about the plights of skinsiders who are irresponsible with their resources, and better at faking compassion than the cub ever was.
---15:59-20:00---
updating at work, I suppose I could afford an explanation of what's been going on.
I have few allies in this world... but they're trustworthy individuals that are dear to my heart, for i've watched them behind the sight of the cub for so long. In his own way, the one called Diven, at least in his real-life persona, not the fictional character, is the salt of the earth type that i would've sought to offer shelter in shadow haven... someone i would've enjoyed the presence of, and appreciated the assitance of, for his wisdom and skills as he is a carpenter. He reminds me of oliver, in a strange way. Oliver used to be very down to earth as well. He was a talented, thoughtful, wise individual too, and I was often pleased to have his advice. If only Diven--the skinsider--could've existed in shadow haven. Alas; humans of h is calibre didn't exist. Nothing is the same here. There are a few similarities on the surface, but the mechanics are all off. The reason I bring him up is, there is a storytelling system that projects a world in a format where you compete against the dice rolls generated by a machine, and it is depicted in amusing detail--though crudely--upon a screen such as this one.
You take to calling it an MMO RPG, short for massively multiplayer online role playing game. I knew of these for some time, as the cub often played them, and i often wondered... why! I have, to my disappointed surprise, divulged the reason for this. You see... Diven is there--after a fashion.
Hauntingly resemblent of its incessant nature, the name EverQuest 2 is ... a sad joke. Not of irony, per se, but of understatement. The waste of countless hours seeking something that has no bearing on life, but -feels- productive, is perhaps the most decadent waste I have had the misfortune to experience firsthand. Not even shamelessly disingenuous attempted bribery by sycophantic emissaries compares, because at least this can be turned to useful ends at some point. The idea of throwing away precious time--and paying for it--made so little sense for as long as I knew of the child, I never fully understood how anyone could be so misled... until now. Diven has a character, and at some point, so did Aondil and Blackgrim, these two being the cub's friends from this world. They all quit, except for diven--and I remain as he does. To make matters worse, though, 'the others'--not dear sister Adrianna, but Allyssa and... well, it's either Niall or the cannibalized remains of the original Stone Hawk. These are souls that have been mostly quiet over time...
Allyssa has spent years trying to soothe her broken heart, and only now speaks out with an active voice, testing her balance as a Kerran Inquisitor on the Lucan D'lere server. Hawk... or O'connor as it may be, mey either be the voice of the Kerran Fury on the same. Niall O'connor has voiced--quietly--his interest in living as a healer rather than a murderer, as is his deepest shame to be; he brooks no forgiveness for himself that he was a soldier at the time, following orders, as I have needed to. In living as a healer, he does seem much more like the Stone Hawk I used to know--not the one from your world, a precocious pretender who hijacked an identity that he had no right to claim--but as a carefree traveling spirit whose wanderlust belied an appreciation for the simplest things. He was noble, in his charmingly dubious way. He was a rogue, though a kind one. His demeanor of kindness and respect for nature sounds a lot like the character I've been seeing, however, niall and stone have been stifled for so long, they seem hardly self-aware anymore; I am struggling to restore them.
Because they have the luxry of still being fictional, i have a very hard time disputing Allyssa's, Stone's, and Niall's desires to 'feel' alive, to 'experience' a world, much the way I once walked the halls of shadow haven... and actually thought it was real. ..because it was all I had. By no means do my memories seem small or ignorant, except in the context of bliss...
lyliac...
my gods, lyli...
There are two sets of memories in my mind now, as I have inherited those left to me by the boy when he ... broke; his concept of Lyli was naive and simplified... but mine... you can't imagine, the shimmer at the edge of her fur as the brilliance of dawn poured through our window--the soft glow of love in her eyes as the crack open for the first time. The scent of our bed, with our son still asleep between us. Even through the stabbing bitterness of loss, that one shining moment we would share is still the most treasured possession of my heart. Greif and joy wrack me at once in recollection.
...and I will never be able to gaze into her eyes again... never squeeze her hand in mine again... never taste her kiss; my senses are a curse to me. This is the agony to which I referred above. This is the horror. The shame lies in that I promised her I would never, ever leave her, that I would remain faithful if I would have to wait several lifetimes; and now, I am in a world where she does not even exist. I do not intend to take a mate here... but feel as though the sweet end of such a promise is not inattainable. I cannot fulfill the promise to be with my mate because... she does not exist here, and in your eyes, she is not even real...
I'm not considered real, according to 'you', either.
I cannot tell you how much I wish this were the truth; to be free of these shackles, to settle into the ignorant emptiness of probability. So why do I go on?
I will elaborate:
This body, these memories, are something that is important to many, many people. These memories are the echo of a soul, a soul that was very dear to two wise and honorable parents; a friend to a closely beloved cadre of intelligent and talented individuals; a respected colleague to a respectibly sized team and one very caring supervisor; and in himself... he was someone who had talent but never the drive or willpower to access it, one whom could have been great. It is my duty to preserve this for as long as I can; to soften the blow as much as I can... because I am the only one who can.
Niall has been quiet too long; he lacks the social capability and feels that he would not be able to handle the responsiblity in an adequate way. Stone Hawk is hardly a whole person anymore, and he knows he is also too irresponsible and flighty; he'd try to go roadside camping and cross-country hiking, and would likely get arrested for trespassing and/or vagrancy, both crimes that he disdainfully refuses to respect the existence of--which will not save him from their corresponding laws. Adrianna is female, for starters, and thinks that the idea of coming out to a male body--especially one so grotesque as this--is repulsive and disgusting, as if the two things were profoundly different and equally supplementary. Allyssa, on the other paw, is timid and shy, and has no interest in what terrors she may behold in this admittedly terrifying world.
I will not be inviting a stranger here. The gates are closed, until--IF--the cub decides to return someday, and IF I've finally managed to navigate his body, our body, into a position where it is at least very unlikely that he will destroy himself, and us with him... though it's easy to see our survival as tertiary next to his, if you can even call it that. We have already had one intruder, but he was a holdover from the cub's time; he was an avatar of chaos with no moral boundary. I had to remove him by force. It was not something I enjoyed to do.
And every passing day, it becomes harder to control the corrupted instincts and bad habits formed by this mound of flesh, this squishy, weak, witblunted husk. In attempting to oblige the comforts of all those around me and all those depending on me, I have allowed myself to neglect the things that I absolutely MUST do. And writing it all down here has helped me sort my mind some, as this is a situation that needs as much sorting as it can possibly get. More updates as they come...
