I'm 24.

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fuck.

Finally decided to take the plunge and buy a new tower. Apparently, even though it's a relatively CHEAP tower, it's got a number of features I'm very happy with. Such as, I salvaged my old drives finally!

I'm -very- please about that, as I was almost sure I'd never get my data off them! Unfortunately the nVidia GeForce 8500 GT from the old rig for some reason won't work in this new one. Yes, the new machine DOES use PCI Express for its display adapter slot, just like the card, and just like the last rig. It just bluescreens whenever I try to start with the 8500. I figure I'd try buying a new one or something, but I worry that it might be an actual problem with the motherboard. So, I'm not all too sure.

This also means i've only got one screen now. That's... ... an adjustment.
meh. I'll get used to it again. It is how I always used to do things. Don't know where I'll go next from here. As it stands, I can sort of use SecondLife again, but do I really want to go back? It's funny. I felt like I was 'waiting for this', as if something major were hinging on it, but it has been so long since I had access to this data that I do not know anymore what I left off on. Oh well.

I am sure I may think of something. Just want to take a deep breath and follow my instincts, if they prefer to speak up.

It could perhaps be said that the easiest part of being dead is not being aware of what it does to everybody who cares about you. You don't get to see the loss in their eyes, hear the anguish in their voices; the dismay and confusion at how it could be this way, how something that once was could simply no longer be...

I suppose we'll have to face it: Death is only relevant to the living. If you can ignore the physical agony that usually accompanies the cease of life, or if you are somehow in such a situation to not encounter the pain, but still feel it happening... imagine the wind whipping a pile of fine dust from the cobbles, snatching it up grain by grain, raking away at its edges as it slowly erodes to nothing on the breeze. You notice suddenly that there is less of you, and you can feel yourself becoming less; the place which you define as 'you' is getting smaller as parts of it start to disappear.

What is happening to you, you wonder? Where are you going, little by little? You don't know, because what of you that has gone is no longer part of you, and cannot tell you; you cannot feel it, you do not know it. But it is gone. The grains trickle away, and the fear builds with realization, fear without a basis, for there is no pain, there is no regret, you will feel nothing, and then the function collapses in a wash of peace. You can no longer fit in the tiny space that's left for you... the wind continues to erode at your edges, taking pieces of you away. You no longer know what you feel... you no longer remember why you did the things you may have done, but cannot seem to worry about it.

Your last fleeting thoughts as a single being pass by. I can only guess they'd be different for everyone...
but for My writer... My player... My friend...
he thought,
"I'm shutting down now..."
"...goodbye."


That was the last I heard of Matthias, the cub you knew as Stoney. ... That was what it was like, one month ago; for, though he eventually was too fragile and small to comprehend his memories, he still wrote them, and I have them all right here. ... I'm sure you'd all expect yourselves to feel alarmed, to panic, to try and claw yourself together, fight it, force yourself to exist somehow, but when it's happening, I can tell you--there IS no force... there IS no panic... there ARE no claws... there IS no fight... there IS no alarm. You don't have TIME to build outrage. By the time you know it's happening, that 'this is it', you're too small to reach where your emotions used to be and the connections that once attached you to that are gone.

people miss him.

They're dissatisfied with my role, for I am poor at replacing what he was. He loved someone... someone that I cannot feel anything for, and the way she begs at me breaks my heart all the more, but what can I do...? Lie? How DARE I mock the joy, the passion, the hope he once felt by 'pretending' to love someone to the dizzying, disorienting, all-consuming degree that he did? The one person I ever felt even comparably to ... does not even exist, and mayhap never will. Can I bring myself to defile -her- memory...? The only real quality of hers that exists in this world, by virtue of me...?

When they talk to me, they know that something is different. I can't hide it. The harder I try to hide it... the more it shows. I didn't come here to replace him. I had no intention of this happening. I coveted neither his friends, nor his family, nor his career, nor his den, nor his possessions, NOR his circumstances, though respect them I do. ... I was handed his life, and I feel that this role is that of a steward; a curator. This is not mine and I have no right to treat it such... it would be an affront to my honor, his faith, and absolutely -everyone- else's trust.

... I forgot where I was going with this. I suppose it's a question:
What am I supposed to do..? I'm ten years younger than I was when I was still in my world. What can I do...?

I wish Lyliac were here...

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...

good or otherwise.

The changes in effect have been discernable.
The stairwell is clean, as is the room I sleep in, and half of the common room of the apartment. I've engaged a new set of regimented eating, exercise, and hygeine habits. My tail and wings still bother me and feel like they're there... even though they're not.

My senses are dull, as if through foggy plate-glass. I can't smell or hear or taste the emotions around me anymore, and I know that I will never be one with the wind ever again; this world just doesn't work that way.

This is a horrible, horrible world to live in, and I am ... so worried for all of you--no--all of US, as I am stuck here now, too, that we lead such a destructive existence in such a polluted, cruel, sickening world; emotionally, spiritually, and environmentally. Matthias used to talk to me at length about the problems of his world, and his history... I always thought he was just whining. ... Though he was definitely whining, it wasn't JUST whining after all. The problems are real. The air smells ... wounded. Wal Marts. They burn inside, like acid. Mildly--in the back of your mind, just beneath your physical senses so you can't quite be sure, or might even be able to ignore it. But there it is.

I feel a further obligation of honor in this world. it hurts. it's bleeding. I can't heal it. No one can... but my nature, nevertheless, is to try! I cannot throw up my paws and join the orgy of destruction. It's just too much! Enough!

The other day I had an opportunity. A stranger came to the door of the apartment asking to use a phone. His friends had abandoned him in the cul de sac of this apartment complex--one of them got arrested for physically assaulting the other; the other decided to go to the hospital. This fellow was talking to a friend on the cell phone that was registered to this body when I arrived, and it sounded as though the conversation was going... poorly. I interrupted him.

"...Where do you need to be?"
"Huh? Oh. It's up near that sheetz station on peter's creek..."
"Please wait here. I'll get my keys and give you a ride."

Five minutes later (after he got his things) we were driving.

There aren't many people who would drive a perfect stranger halfway across town just because they SAID it was important to them... but that's just what's wrong with this world, or at least one of the very big problems. I am glad I did it, though I am wondering what BAD karma I have absorbed from him by taking this responsibility upon myself.

You know. No good deed goes unpunished and all that.

Go around helping people, and you'll help someone who shouldn't be helped, someone who is getting what they deserve, and by helping them, you accept part of that blame. I don't know what I'll have to work through as the penance for this. Maybe nothing bad happened to him. Maybe he was in a harsh situation as a result of willingly taking a hit for another, and all of my absolution was spent wasting some valuable cleaning time on transporting this fellow across town.

I don't regert it though.

Consider doing something good today. You may need it later.

...different.

No. That, though true, is not the whole truth. I am different. I won't be able to disclose any details... it is a matter of honor.

Suffice it to say... a correction of course is effect. Seeing how little I was remaining in touch with this community, it may not affect the people I associated with here all that much after all. If you detect a change, please do not be alarmed. You may be of the perception that I am not myself. I assure you, to my very own distress and heightened disappointment, I am very, very much my self now.

I have to go. There are issues that need resolving right now. I will... strive to be in touch.

Farewell, Safe Journeys, and may the dawn keep you warm in her arms.

Okay. I thought I was imagining it, but apparently there was an EARTHQUAKE here last night! EPICENTER ON ROANOKE. RIGHT HERE beneath my feet! Fuckin' crazy! that's not all, folks: Diven saw a UFO THE DAY BEFORE! and the day before THAT, Eagle had to banish an apparition that was trying to bring down the bubble of paranormal energy that is supposedly shielding Roanoke--or so I'm told by my spiritualist friends.

Look, I am used to seeing wierd shit once every few months or so, but THREE EVENTS IN THREE DAYS!? SHIT!! What's next, the star(!) exploding!?

!: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mill_Mountain_Star

I don't even know why I apologize for certain things anymore... it does not make the weight of my guilt any less. There are many people whom I'm sure believed in me... whom I've furthermore let down. Oh, well. Why change tradition?

I am sorry that I have not been able to find time. I am... not a happy wolfie.

but why?

The internet is amazing how it can allow me to perceive perspectives I would not have considered otherwise, such as: wtf is ur problem emo kid?

well... let's make a list. maybe in dumping this to text, I might be able to make heads or tails of it.

My apartment complex is a tax credit community. They require that their residents make less than a certain amount annually. I presently make more than that. I got a notice this month that says they don't want my kind around because my job is apparently 'too good' for them. I feel... discouraged, about this. I'm trying to find a new place to live now, one that won't require me to make less than a certain amount.

My job... is not the same job it used to be. One little tweak at a time, they've twisted and contorted my purpose from noble, helpful, and just... to dishonest, cruel, and insulting. As it turns out, the "values" of my employer have absolutely nothing to do with their motives. In fact, my willingness to comply to their values puts me directly at odds with their motives, and this means that I am in a threatened position. I care too god damned much. I'm costing my bank money not only because I "waste" time explaining what the bank policy really MEANS to my clients... but I suspect that the management also resents that my clients do a lot of one of the two following things: 1) actually LEARN to be responsible and attentive to their financial status, thus eliminating themselves as targets--they're no longer vulnerable to the Fee Mill... 2) decide that the big picture, now that they see it, is ugly... and seek greener pastures at OTHER banks. I don't skew the fucking truth, OK? By the time they seem to finally understand what the fine print really SAYS, they realize that it's a raw deal. What business does a chaotic evil corporation have with lawful good pawns infesting its operational structure? Try pink slip distribution.
I'm not fired yet, but unless I compromise my morals and toss out the window that one sliver of joy I once derived from this job, I WILL be.

Grim started crashing here again--that's GREAT! Our human friend, Aondil, started crashing here too--That's freakin' AWESOME. We had a plan to get a bigger apartment and split the cost, then look into buying a house--That's abso-fuckin'-lutely EPIC!!
...they found a two bedroom place and are getting it for themselves. Stoney is not invited.
Now don't go blaming Aondil or Grim... it's a two bedroom apartment for THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY FIVE DOLLARS PER MONTH and it's HUGE. This is an INCREDIBLE deal! I would be pissed at them if they didn't take it!
It just hurts... that's all... it's a lesser hurt than the alternative, and I'm thankful for that, but it still hurts, god damn it ;_;

My health is declining. My weight is getting worse. Eating half the standard required caloric intake per day hasn't helped... i just have less energy than I ever did before. Time is a premium luxury that I can't afford to waste on exercise because there are other MORTAL ISSUES CHOKING ME TO DEATH RIGHT NOW. it's just more straws on the camel's back. SURELY the camel can handle JUST ONE MORE STRAW, RIGHT? RIIIIGHT?!? Furthermore there are other... difficulties that I am noticing, health-wise. I'm getting more and more tired every day. I can't keep my eyes open... It's like trying to wade through molasses.

...and my grandfather died...

those are the big ones. but there's more...

My main pc is no more. it just won't boot. i replaced the hard drive. I replaced the ram. It won't even boot Linux from the fucking CD/DVD tray! I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do with it ;_;

there is also a drama unfolding around Roanoke. I'm told unanimously by my mystically sensitive friends that there's apparently some kind of bubble of paranormal energy surrounding the city, and another one surrounding the region. I have found myself a friend of a rather influential individual--and I presume to make no assumptions about the veracity of what I'm telling you for two reasons: 1) if you choose not to believe me, it's probably for the best (for the safety of this city and those whom I care about around me)... and 2) I... I want it to be real. ... I ever so deeply want it to be real. I live in a persistent undecided state of skepticism, suspending judgment in all forms lest I pass it too quickly. I wish to gather as much information, as impartially as possible though, before I deliberate upon things.

It probably does nothing to help me that I am concerning myself with the idea of the earth trying to heal, the earth itself possessing sentience; the presence of spirits in our lives; the alleged ability of some individuals to project manifestations of elemental force; channeling; dreamwalking; spellcasting; manipulating quantum probability through obscure entanglements in the anatomy of the materials around us...
Fuck... I'm balanced at the very precipice where one could equally be a stupid sap who bought into a con game OR the poor misguided fool who refuses to acknowledge the true nature of the universe in its subtler senses, blinding himself with misplaced doubt.
So... I've got a whole shaker of salt with me right now, one grain for everything I need to swallow EITHER way. I am in a mode to collect as much data as possible... to learn facts, or encounter observations of my own if I happen to run into any... memorize rituals and follow instructions, knowing full-well that wanting to learn for an internally self-proclaimed intellectual reason (or excuse) may very well be more than sufficient to change the outcome.

Don't we all have the urge to declare ourselves "too smart to fall for that"? But then you wonder, what could you be missing out on by ignoring it all as false by fiat? If we do not even bother looking, how can we be sure that there is nothing--or anything for that matter--to see?

i'm digressing, but I don't care. here's the gist of what I'm trying to say:
I want to give magic a chance.
I want to give it at least the chance it deserves to come into my life. Catholicism had a chance to come into my life, and it was there for a good long time; I followed it faithfully when I was a cub... until I grew away from it. I believe it is ONLY fair that any well-meaning (NOT just well-intentioned... I'll explain the difference in a bit) faith should have the opportunity to fit inside my proverbial heart.

What I mean by well-meaning as opposed to well-intentioned is this:
Some people believe that the end justifies the means.
This is complete and utter bullshit. MOST PEOPLE WHO USE THIS IDEOLOGY AREN'T FOCUSING ON AND END THAT THEY WISH TO TRULY ACHIEVE, BUT INSTEAD ON A WAY TO EXCUSE THEIR SICK, CRUEL, DISGUSTING SO-CALLED 'MEANS'.
I personally believe that the greater good can be found ONLY in the pursuit of smaller steps of good that do NOT compromise one's honor or morality...
Paths that compromise honor or morality are hardly ever there truly to reach the end, but in actuality, only to entice someone to defile their own convictions!!

When I say well-meaning, I speak of THE MEANS. NOT the intentions that would allow filthy tasks under the hollow promise that they may somehow make a desirable outcome more viable. Again: bullshit. complete and utter bullshit... An organization with good intentions that favors world peace could easily justify slaughtering everyone so there would be no one left to kill. An organization with good MEANS that champions world peace would do it the hard way--the RIGHT way--by introducing peace to each person's life individually.

The end justifying the means being bullshit, however, isn't a poo-poo on personal sacrifice. You have a right to make a personal sacrifice... the bullshit is only when you're sacrificing someone else.

I hope it makes sense to anybody else as much as it does to me. But anyways, that's what I'm aiming for.

Anyways... that'll do it for me tonight. Seeya around. maybe I'll have another update in six months.

I'm not sure what wants to be said, but there's been so much silence lately that it's almost been oppressive.

Another barrage of things have happened... I've welcomed Blackgrim back in as a roommate. He hopes his wife, silvermask, will be able to afford the journey back north to Virginia soon too. I'm glad about this... and quite optimistic. It's nice having someone home again. He also brought his cat, Harley. Goodness me I love Harley ^^ he's such a nice fellow! Always affectionate, friendly, playful, and though silly, very well-behaved for a pet.

Diven a.k.a. Taxifox has a girlfriend now too! That's so freakin' cool! We RP; there's a D&D campaign running right now where we all got sucked into the world of Farun. The a is supposed to have a ^ over it... but I don't care to look up the alt+ code for it. So far it's been a lot of fun.

Money's going to be tight, but I can't help but feel optimistic. I'm really happy to have my friends on their way back after all this time! :D

Job's been fine. SL's been waaay awesome and then settled down. I've been rather close with someone that doesn't want me to disclose their identity... and this fact has put a big strain on things. I don't think she cares as much as she claims to, therefore, and these past few days, I haven't been able to bring myself to speak to her. But if she sees this here... well, hun, I miss you :( and I'm sorry that I've been away. It's just that, even when we do talk... it's like there's a wall. When I reach out, you just... don't react. If I told you to your face... you'd worry more, then draw away further. I feel like I'm making things worse by being there so... that's why I've been quiet all this time.

Also, blackgrim, silvermask, and diven have dragged me into world of warcraft.

I feel so filthy. Oh well. It can't be helped.

Anyways... so much for that. I guess that's really all I needed to say so far. meh.

[he offered an area for suggestions. It was an opportunity, and I jumped on it. Here is the gruesome, devastating result:]


First, I would like to congratulate President-Elect Barack Obama, and mention that I am highly pleased with this result. Many of my fears are themselves fearing their end. Hope is an amazing thing that can really take your breath away and turn your life around, so I would like to thank you for making me proud of my country for the first time in my entire life. Thank you. Thank you very, very much.

That said... One of the biggest reasons I voted for Barack Obama, the thing that truly distinguished My chosen president from the rest, was his views on the internet. You don't hear "pro-internet" in debate. Most people don't even consider it... but there was some amazing footwork performed by the tech-savvy departments of the Obama camp, and I certainly hope that that won't end. Ever.
You see, there was a particular speech that Barack gave about Reforming Washington. Not only was this uploaded BY Barack's official campaign account on Youtube, but FURTHERMORE, it said some very remarkable, and in my opinion, exceptionally wonderful things:
1) Transparency in policy, intent, and executive decision-making...
2) ...by putting it on the INTERNET for all to see for five days!!
That, above all else, blew my mind.
Then, in a later speech, the president-elect (then a candidate still), mentioned setting up official government forums on the internet for United States citizens to interact and find a voice with.

If the last announcements blew my mind, this vaporized it for at least five minutes.

I cannot tell you how fascinated, pleased, encouraged, proud, inspired, and in fact honored I am to hear of these very things that I have been wishing and praying for our country to achieve since the day I learned how to point-and-click. This is the first, greatest, nearest step I have ever seen taken toward a REAL direct democracy, and I Approve, Mr. President! I Approve, and I am excitedly looking forward to more--much more!

Whether or not it is only the Obama administration that does it, I believe that the human race can only benefit from better communication and more knowledge at our fingertips! For the first time in our history, we possess the technology and skill to integrate The American into The American Government. I see a bright future where every human being on earth, America to start, truly CAN be heard, and President Obama has found the path that will lead us there. Emergent behaviors will soon enable a level of insight entirely unheard of before; so, I say to the President, Onward, to the enlightened destiny of mankind!

Do not hold back with communications technology!

Next... jobs. It is admittedly a gross oversimplification to say "We can create jobs by paying people to do stuff". Usually the first complaint I hear is under the assumption that the "stuff" entails nothing useful. However, consider all the infrastructural work that needs to be done and the billions spent on incompetent, greedy contractors.
My opinion is this:
I believe that the government should not merely set baseline standards for capitalism. I think the government should ENFORCE these baseline standards by operating them as a safety net for our economy and our workers, as a kind of department of task execution. Many American population centers need repair on roads, bridges, piping for sewers, water, and fuel, and electrical and communications cabling.
Cutting out the middle man and ensuring fair wages and coverage with the distinctive stability of 'government work' will erect a foundation that is nigh unbreakable as long as it is maintained, and it will put money into the pockets who need it WITHOUT total loss to GDP, because whether they know it or not, their services would be giving something back.

I admit I may be wrong, but it seems to ME at least that cutting out middle men like corrupt private contractors will save us money, net us higher quality, and give us more control over what we're paying for. Every individual that participates is one more family not getting thrown out on the street, one more child not going to bed cold and hungry.
Then, if there are contractors willing to pass the test by stepping up their employee treatment and quality, they will be just fine at competing, and would serve to benefit anyone else who does business with them.

I believe this can be said for every industry: Banking. Medicine. Scientific Research. Agriculture. Manufacturing. Retail. ALL we need is a baseline, set, defined, and operated by the government, for the function of creating jobs, stimulating competition, improving the standard of living, and supporting an economy of high-specialization, premium quality private enterprise.

With a foundation like that, we can make sure that every reasonably able-bodied or able-minded American has a name, a job, food in their stomach, clothes on their back, a roof over their head, and reasonable health. With enough merit-based incentive, anyone who sharpens their skills and does their share of the work will be able to become valuable to the private sector and advance, then affording even better food, clothes, health, and shelter.

on the issue of food, I feel that the government should provide a more detailed, more hands on OPTION to the people of the united states--and to remind, everything I've said so far should be optional to every individual American; NO compulsory cooperation! --but I digress. Healthy Food is too expensive, and stamps and subsidies are too often and all too easily traded off for junk. Healthy food needs to be easier. There is definite appeal rising toward a simplified "balanced diet" package that can be easily collected, prepared, and consumed.
This is a little bit out there, but hear it out: People Kibble.
if I had the option at my fingertips to simply buy servings of people-kibble, processed into a convenient form-factor with a distinct absence of chemical ingredients, and formulated per-serving toward the ideal balance of meat, vegitables, dairy, grains, and fruit, covering the widest reasonable spread of vitamin content, and containing as many calories as necessary for average day-to-day living. I'd possibly even be willing to pay more for it than "real" food...
Just consider it as a healthy alternative to ramen noodles, cheeseburgers, tacos, pizza, and take-out chinese for all our college kids and other less fortunate Americans.

I've run out of steam. If you liked anything that I had to say, or want to respond, I would love to hear from anyone with anything they want to say, even if it's to disagree or present me with contrary proof. I'll be pleased either way.

Thank you!

haven't had time to journalize lately, but i just wanted to say...

POLLS CLOSED.

DUE TO OBAMANATION LOL


(fuck yeah)

I got my annual review from my boss. One year already... this coming October, I'll have worked at the bank for a whole year. We talked about things.

I'm not exactly a model employee, but even though there is enough to be concerned about, I've never felt so... appreciated before. There were things said on that review that I never thought anyone would say about me. And yet... I don't feel guilty. My only regret... is that I've let slip what few things I did.

Time proves to be my nemesis. Or maybe it's just the old curse of procrastination proving once again that it isn't dead yet. Dammit. You push, and you push, and you think you got somewhere, until you look up and see the exact same horizon you've been stretching for the whole time no closer--perhaps even farther--than it ever was. But I've improved around it. I have made footholds in professionalism. I've anchored myself in attitude control. I've fine tuned my self-hypnosis capabilities to a fine art form, able to swallow the harshest, most inconsiderate policies. I've flexed my morals for personal gain farther than I ever thought I'd be able to handle, and now it's paying off.

I wonder if that's what it means to grow up: Giving up on the idea that cruelties can be avoided. I feel my idealism dying. And yet... there's still a twinge of nihilistic glee at seeing myself round peg self, after ramming a square hole, finally starting to fit. Even the fear that I may never return to my old amorphous self is fading.

See... I'm up for a raise.

I've never been up for a raise before.

Ever.

I've never had my loyalty tested before.

Ever.

I feel that tonight, I pushed a button I've kept under glass my entire life until now, and something cracked, way deep down, and I pulled the one piece of wool over my own eyes that I've been avoiding all along--the one that would finally seal out the last wink of light:

I have engaged the illusion, for my own survival and profit, that my employer is honest and fair, and that the policy is sacrosanct, and there is nothing wrong; and that everybody who ever decides to make a purchase that they cannot afford is a criminal, trying to steal the Company's money. Our money. MY money. And they deserve every OD fee they get. The rules are absolute. There is no room for negotiation. If we grant an amnesty, it is sheerly out of courtesy, by no obligation whatsoever. There's nothing wrong with the system. We tell the truth and only the truth, and if you do not understand, it is your fault for not understanding. We have explained it exactly as far as we are required to by law. The law says you are responsible for accepting our rules if you sign here. Why would you agree to something you do not understand? Ours is not to second guess you. We place our trust in your responsibility, and your irresponsibility places your paycheck in our pocket.

Thank you.






The one thing that makes the small, screaming, gibbering, terrified corner of my last remaining shred of instinct feel convinced that this is evil, is the fact that the rest of me is adamant that this is not evil. This is honest, and open, and completely and transparently disclosed without exception, and everyone who does business with my bank has every opportunity to disengage if they disagree.

Anyways...

Time.

I was tardy a few times. It was one of the few places where I did not meet optimum parameters. I did not quite pass beneath minimum parameters. I would be lined up for a bigger raise if I had made it on time. They did not disclose how much I will be getting extra in my pay... but they did say that I could have done better. And I believe them. I know I will do better.

My sloppy lifestyle is coming back to harm me. this is enough to convince me that I now have an Enemy within myself again, to sharpen my conviction against. I can feel the tension, trembling precipitously, as this is the tip of the sword, the make-or-break moment--the existential shock that forces someone to change. I am going to end up changing again... Something tells me that I should be afraid. Something else in me is more concerned that I am not afraid. The rest of me has no opinions anymore.

... I hope you won't hate me when I finish becoming what I am about to become.

I leave in 15 minutes... (0930) to clock in at work (1000), and... they expect me to work until MIDNIGHT.

... This is going to HURT. But you know what? I just listened to Electric Light Orchestra's Mr. Blue Sky, and suddenly everything feels okay ^^ I am so happy right now I am sure I'm going to blow those long-day saddies RIGHT OUT OF THE WATER! Muwahahahahaha!!! I am energized. Mr. Blue Sky's Solar Power, you could call it. I don't have enough music in my life, y'know?

I don't get to listen to music as much anymore. OH MAN I should totally DL the soundtrack to Sonic R again! That music is like a sugar-laced acid trip and it's like getting four grams of raw caffeine injected right into my aorta. ... okay not literally. That would fuckin' KILL ME, and music does just the opposite--it makes me feel MORE alive!

I'm sorry to be preaching the obvious. It's just easy to forget these things... get wrapped up in the harshness of reality. This is one of those stop and smell the roses things. So if you haven't listened to any of your favorite music today, please just remember to put in a cassette, mount up a CD, or hell, just load an MP3 and let the music feed your soul. You never know how much you needed it until you get it ^^

Furry Art Pile apparently just Bit it.

... I guess I'm kind of glad I never got really involved there. I never got a good vibe, y'know? I get good vibes from FA. FA is still here. If that changes, I'll be surprised. FA would make a LOT of angry, terrible noise as it dies. It's not one of those quiet last sighs of oblivion, oh no. You KNOW that FA is a screamer. FA screams about a stubbed toe. I think that's why I love FA; even if the volume is too loud, it's honest as the sun is hot and the sky is high.

FAP, though... went out with a whimper, quietly slipping out of sight without the slightest warning. Just... gone. The admin got tired, and rather than strive to make himself miserable like the dedicated, possibly masochistic FurAffinity Admins (I love you guys so much. Seriously. If I ever met any one of you, I would buy you a cookie. One of those massive ones sold in a high-class deli for three dollars too much--yeah, those! Maybe Two.) ...he instead chose to press the off switch way over in a dark corner away from prying eyes. ho hum. *press*

Yup. I'm never leaving FA, at least, I can't imagine doing so now. I was considering going to FAP eventually, but i could never get my heart into it. Now that it's a smoldering crater, I am glad I never became interested. Less competition for FA, if you ask me, so hard cheese to that!
ESPECIALLY to those individuals who left FA to be arrogant, self-righteous, oversensitive drama tards who cleared out their entire FA identity just to make a damn statement.

Gee guys. Hope you're really enjoying your statement, now that it's all you've got. :p

...maybe.
Man. FA going down was a kick in the ribs for that month there... the one month... where EVERYTHING HAPPENED.

I can't tell you about everything because it's just impossible. there's too much. Suffice it to say I am alive, safe, and financially viable. My emotional integrity is strong, and I feel I may have matured somewhat... yet again. The idea that no one is here to catch me if I fall (except myself) is no longer unsettling. My one bedroom apartment is now fully furnished and the only thing I have to get used to is upkeep. chores are too much for me on days where I actually work, so I unfortunately still have some dishes piling up and some cleaning not done for a few days...
I'm not sure how I can make time.

I've learned to love SecondLife though, and it took me two years... The box I bought for (and subsequently reclaimed from) deadbeat coon ex-roommate is actually kind of a beast... able to handle max vis settings on SL. That made me much more readily able to accept SL's contributions to my life.

I am again meeting people. I have discovered a small, but steady spring of confidence from somewhere, and I kind of like where I am right now.

only downside is... still no art. I just haven't been able to get anything to come out. But dig this: I get up at 0800 and leave for work at 0930. that's just enough time to shower, eat, and almost be late. I get home at 2130 and have until 0200 to enjoy my own time. That's a grand total of four and a half hours of free time every day where I work. I can't get anything done in that timeframe. how the hell do people live productively like this? *sigh*.

At least it's Big Weekend again. Every third week, I get Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday off almost consecutively except for that monday in the middle. I like to pretend that this is my chance to get a lot done.
Really it's just my chance to Veg the Hell Out.

I'm looking forward to a nice long pointless wasting of my time. Ciao.

I maed u a jurnal but i eated it

It was so nice too :( but I accidentally closed the window and I'm very disappointed. It'll have to wait for another day.

It was going so well.

No wonder it had to stop.

Raccoon busted. had a chance and blew it. I couldn't afford it anymore. He started generating excuses to not do the one fiscal responsibility he had, and then excuses as to why he couldn't pay his share of shit when he had a dime to contribute.

Some people will call me a fool. I disagree, because of one simple reason: I kicked him out. And it took me less time to figure out I was being used than before. I'm being used by my apartment complex too. They just told me my rent was going to be 800 dollars for june.

...

I sat in my car and screamed for fifteen minutes.

So a few things happened all at once:

I packed up my laptop and the computer I bought for the raccoon and placed them under the guard of a trusted friend. Then I started submitting rental applications to a few places. I'm not paying that eight hundred bucks. Those stingy bastards can go fuck themselves. Yes, they'll rape my credit, but they were going to do that anyway, by virtue of the fact that I CAN'T AFFORD IT. PERIOD. EVEN IF I WANTED TO. I DO NOT HAVE EIGHT HUNDRED FUCKING DOLLARS. My paycheck is better spent on a deposit for a new place and the first month of rent.
I have my sights set on a cute little one bedroom a few blocks from where I'm sleeping now. The rent costs two hundred dollars less.

---

Due to financial difficulties, I am officially not going to anthrocon :(
I just can't afford it. So I'm not going to. *sigh* I was really looking forward to that. It was important to me. I'm so fucking fed up with everything. On top of that, moving means that the poncho I've been waiting on from Ms. Badger is not going to be deliverable for a little while. Little stresses are chipping away at my corners, eroding into the cracks.

can it really be all in my head? I certainly hope it is... maybe then, I have a prayer.

So. My other roommates got on with their lives: Rowan moved back to Baltimore to be closer to her family and possibly attend school, Silvermask and Blackgrim now have their own apartment, and I live in this one with Omnikos.

It's not so much as 'living with a raccoon' as it is 'living near a raccoon'. We're fairly unobtrusive toward each other--yet, it is share and share alike! Our resources streamline. He does more PHYSICAL work than I do around here, that's for sure, but I rake in the major cash flow and keep the bill collectors from breathing down our necks... also supplying groceries. He cooks said groceries and the share is EVEN through-and-through. There's no "NO! THIS IS MINE, NOT YOURS!!", nor is there any "Did you have permission to eat that, stoney?", or "Can I have some? I'm not going to give you anything in return of course, but you're a greedy selfish bastard if you don't share." It is 50/50. I can really get used to this.

You see, my primary function is to disappear for four days every week, coming home only to sleep and steal a few precious minutes of online time. As long as I do that, a check deposits into my bank account twice per month. In the mean time, his primary function is to maintain the premises. Keep the laundry clean. keep dishes out of the sink, prepare delicious meals, and play World of Warcraft--not that that's THAT bad a thing. It's his time. Then on my days off, we go and wash windows. It takes Omni roughly forty-five minutes by his estimation, and the reward is a couple hundred bucks a week and some free food.

I know that's a very rosy description, but it's the closest gist I'll ever find to speak.

Otherwise... though we don't have cash for luxury, the food is good. And I mean GOOD. REALLY GOOD. HOLY SHIT IT'S GOOD. and it's almost EVERY NIGHT! :D Diven (a.k.a. Taxifox) comes over, shares in the bounty, contributes, and makes for lulz. Good company, good times. All in all, things are good.

I'll admit it's really unlike me to feel this way, but... for the first time in a WHILE, I DON'T have that ominous-looming feeling about how good things are. Then again, it's been a 'WHILE' since the shit hit the fan. Then again again, I'd say there's a little less shit than there usually is TO hit the fan.

My only regret is art. I don't get to draw anymore. It's not that they're stopping me, it's just that it's hard. It's gotten very, very hard again, and I can't seem to work anything out. My pen grinds to a halt on the tablet. I don't even know why. I could assume it's due to the lack of Furcadia in my life. All work and no play makes Stoney a dull boy, and all that. I'll admit I haven't been "playing" as much, in general. usually I just binge on wikipedia articles about Anonymous fighting Scientology in the streets until it's 4am and I realize I have to wake up in four hours... ugh.

Speaking of which, I'd better get to bed. It would be very NICE if I could find the willpower to go to bed at like, 10pm every day... wake up at FIVE, drive down to the local Gold's Gym, and actually try to do something about my FLUBB... I'm lonely. so lonely. But I know an internet relationship isn't going to do it for me anymore. I'd love to find a real girl. I'm also sick of being joked at about my inexperience. I don't have any relationship experience, and that just means that I need some. ... Of course I'm not deluding myself into thinking that it's easy. I know by now that it's never easy.

Just pipe dreams.

Good night.

I bought the soul of a man last night. It was a moment of desperation. But what he was desperate for was not a matter of life or death. It was not to save a loved one, or recover his own character... it was his hunger for vice that compelled him.

My charity had been drawn to its limit... sixty dollars was what he begged for. Sixty dollars to do this just 'one more time'. Sixty dollars, for one more chance. He offered everything he had. He offered everything he didn't have. And then when he pressed the issue of agreement... I looked him in the eye, and I knew within before I knew without what I was about to say.
I told him that this was his last chance. His final opportunity to escape. That he'd been in this place for far too long, and with this act he would be failing himself, his family, his friends, and anyone who ever remotely, genuinely, cared about him. I told him it would be his soul that would be traded. I told him, Acknowledge.

Repeat.


Shake.

I now own the soul of a man for sixty dollars. Surely the transaction was symbolic, but I think he knows, as a god-fearing man, what he's done even in his own mind. He is now awake and aware of what his vice has done to him; it has compelled him to sell his own soul. And I know that if I did not get it...
...something else would have.


This is what is convincing me day in and day out that I am an incubus of some kind, or that there is a genetic or mystical presence of it within my bloodline. I was suspicious when I found myself siphoning benefit from the emotional discharge of others... but I BOUGHT HIS SOUL.

I'm giving it back--when he proves he can manage it himself (and that he won't just sell it to something else)--but the fact remains that I BOUGHT HIS SOUL.

This new day dawned with a terrible light, the fact that he is now indebted to me. He's washing the dishes. He's doing the laundry. He's fixing the car. And he knows that the only end in sight is the clean BREAK off from every addiction he has known. Except maybe WoW. We all have our limits.

He will not see the so-called "friends" who would have sold him crack for money he didn't have ever again. I may even make him quit smoking... But it's no mystical, spiritual, or physical harm that hangs over his head; The reinforcement is this: He knows he sold his soul. I didn't even give it to him in fine print. He KNOWS that he made the single most horrifyingly profound pact he could have ever been exposed to, and if he breaks it, it will prove that there is nothing left of his humanity. Would he be an Oathbreaker? Would he destroy the last shreds of his dignity, his sanity, the WORTH of his very ESSENCE?
HE KNOWS WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF HE BREAKS HIS OATH.

He knows that to do so would place his soul into the hands of others, others far, far less patient and forgiving than me.

But I don't care. I am en route to good times.

Yes, there are still some things I'd like to change. Adjustments. Tweaks, if you will. I decided to move my laptop back into my bedroom because I haven't had any time on it at all lately. Of the past week, I've used it BRIEFLY on three days.

That's... that's fucking insane. I hope you realize that.

YOU MAY call it the almost-kicking of a bad, bad addiction... but my god, there are so many WORSE things to be addicted to. Like TV. TV is a wasteland of lukewarm tasteless transparent refuse, strangled by censorship, ravaged by the recent writers' strike, and suffering eternally with a profuse internal hemorrhage of network fads like "REALITY" shows. What do you suppose people do in the living room, hmm?

Not living.

TV.

Of course, there are times when my roommates are gaming, and that's worth stepping out of my burrow for. But there are still other regrettable things. I've been privy to witness a horrifying blight bleeding into the souls of my very dearest friends. A monstrosity that steals away at patience, focus, and even ones' sense of reality... World of Warcraft has consumed their lives entirely. It's a frightening sight. "I HAVE PEOPLE DEPENDING ON ME SO YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE HAVE RAID!!!--" or " WE HAVE INSTANCE!!!--" or they're screaming bloody murder because the tanks walked out of heal range and simultaneously pulled THREE extra mobs... and subsequently got the entire group slaughtered. Hearing "goddammit you FUCKING Leeroy!!" from every corner of the house in unison is ... disturbing.

If a friend of mine were, say, reading webcomics... or hanging out in secondlife... or really doing anything EXCEPT world of warcraft.. they wouldn't fly into psychotic, murderous RAGE at me for giving them a phone call. A FUCKING PHONE CALL. I have lost friends to world of warcraft just because I had a case of bad timing just once. They once were sweet, kind, patient people... until they became obsessed with minimizing their armor's repair bill. Now they have WoW in their blood and I can't even talk to them without risking a crowbar in my skull.

But the biggest reason why I don't play is... I'm absolutely sure I'm even more susceptible to these effects than everyone else I know. If I played WoW, it would risk my career. I would not have time for anything else, not even sleep. I'll admit that it's probable that I've got sour grapes about this. The fact that I can't play it making me all drama-whorey and emo about it. And it's no reason to start insulting people who LIKE world of warcraft... but if you ever find yourself in a situation where you have to choose between IRL me and what's supposed to be an innocent hobby, I hope you'll be happy with your decision for the rest of your life.

I'm walking a very thin line here. I've worked hard to find moderation between a time-consuming addiction and the retention of social activity. In most cases, I embody exactly what I am afraid to see in others. But that's the reason why I'm trying to grow as a person in a different direction. For about ten years, I'd cut people out of my existence if they'd deprive me of gaming. The past three years, I've witnessed what it's like to be the person that was 'cut out', and now that I know the problem inside and out, I have a more complete grasp on this situation's gravity than most people would ever want to have. If you haven't fallen yet, don't make my mistakes: don't let an addiction, no matter how seemingly innocent, turn you into an asshole.

---

In other news:
My pal Paul, the Raccoon, is finally paid off in his fines and all caught up legally.
Yes, he's fit the Raccoon profile perfectly. He can't be anything but. But now at least, he's legitimate. Finally clean and sober. It's almost inspiring to see someone so thrilled at their ability to pass a drug test and criminal background check. We got so much shit done today it ain't even funny! We got his phone turned back on and he made some really good client connections. At this rate, his window washing business will be steaming ahead swiftly in no time! Most of this was courtesy of his father, whom devoted almost a GRAND to pay off everything. It's a shame we couldn't get his drivers' license sorted though.

They're making him pay the uninsured vehicle fee for THREE YEARS THAT HE DID NOT EVEN OWN THE FUCKING CAR. He had his license suspended YEARS ago and the car was a junk, the city towed it off, but DMV is blaming HIM for not turning in the god damned plates! THE CITY ALREADY -HAS- THE MOTHER FUCKING PLATES! They TOWED THEM OFF!!! What's it come to?

Oh... six hundred dollars. If I spent nearly as much dough today as his dad dumped on him, we'd BOTH have a new computer already.

We also picked up job applications. The window washing is going to be a side thing... i suppose. He wants to get a job at a place called Stein Mart... which looks kind of posh. It's a department store that has a very polished and comfortable feel. The manager actually came out to greet paul, not just 'oh, shake hands with the new lackey'--this guy almost HUGGED him. My gaydar was screaming bloody murder. Fantastic fellow though. Enthusiastic, sense of humor, energetic, I bet he'd be one heck of a great boss to work for.
I think Paul's practically got it in the bag for management.

I think I'll wrap this up here. Seeya.

I'd like to say that I don't know why I bother.
I suppose that's true, but there's something more important:
I don't need to know why I bother.
I'm just curious what kinds of things I'd see.



1. Would you be in control?
2. Would you pull my hair?
3. Would you whisper in my ear?
4. Would you talk dirty to me?
5. Would you kiss me with a little tongue or a lot of tongue?
6. Would you say my name?
7. Would you go down on me?
8. Would you let me give you a hickie?
9. How many rounds would we go?
10. What would you wanna do afterwards?
11. Would you take off all your clothes then take mine off slowly?
12. Would you lick and bite me all over?
13. Would you like to play or get straight to the point?
14. Would you want me to take my time?
15. How freaky are you, 1 - 10?
16. Would you want fast or slow?
17. Where would you wanna "do it"?
18. Would you be loud or quiet?
19. Would you want me to be loud or quiet?
20. Would you mind if i liked you?
21. Do you like me?
22. Would you call me the next day?
23. Would you scratch me?
24. Would you let me scratch you?
25. Would you have to be drunk?
26. Would you date me?
27. Would you do it today?
28. Would you do it tomorrow?
29. Do you think that we would go any further then just sex?
30. Are you going to re-post these so I can answer them for you?
31. Would you make love to me or fuck me?

I found out I was on the block list of someone I respected.

I think I know why. But it's helped me realize that I have not the slightest crumb of business respecting them. I may say some pretty damn cold things, but I at least try to hold my tongue around those who show common decency and mutual respect for people. I am reminded of an old lesson I thought I learned in elementary school:

Being a prick is some peoples' bread and butter.
For such individuals, their sense of humor is based solely around their own ego.
Those same people can't handle the taste of their own medicine.

I'm going to spend a long time pondering this, reversing it and meditating upon the possibility that I just described myself. I realize that in order for anyone to take what I say seriously, I have to take it seriously--but not too seriously of course... Just enough to practice what I preach, and reap the whirlwind if I called down the thunder.

And if I can keep my mind on track through the whole meditative process, the rewards shall be innumerable and vast.

Which I am actually doing, right now, as I type in fact.

I can already tell that I had, while not today, perhaps yesterday, and most definitely quite recently, a habit of thinking something was funny only because I said it.

I can also tell that there are times that I have taken offense to someone turning something insensitive that I have said back upon me.

And lastly, I am positive that I have attempted to be one of those pricks--and failed miserably because I'm just that bad at being mean.

To those of you who have witnessed this side of me...
I am very, very sorry...
Thank you.

---

In other news, Human Systems has approved my vacation days for AnthroCon!!
I only had them submitted before, but now it's DEFINITELY on! It's just around the corner in fact. Hot damn, I better start budgeting and saving up! I got paid a few minutes ago (direct deposit FTW) and I think I'm going to divvy it thusly:

1) payoff 100% of required balances to Cable, Phone, and Internet, as well as electricity
2) payoff 100% or nearest reachable value of emergency reserves (overdraft/constant credit account)
3) withdraw $150 cash (or nearest reachable value) for 'lunch money' for the remainder of month--this includes groceries.
4) invest remainder, if any (savings account).

... assuming that I have 700 dollars, that looks like...
150 going to bills,
300+interest+finance charges going into credit account
150 to groceries, lunch, and gas,
leaving just about 100 for savings. Hm...

... better make some adjustments :

---

my last tidbit regards art. There hasn't been much. though I -can- draw at work, inspiration has been lacking. This I blame on city of heroes. I think I'm leaving my addiction now. Silvermist is probably back from her family Christmas vacation--very devout family and whatnot--so Cyrus can probably pick up his storyline again... but otherwise, furc's been dead to me, and that makes me sad.

So often I end up sitting down and realizing "oh... it's too late for furcadia..." but still playing CoV/CoH for FOUR HOURS and going to bed LATER than I wanted to... 'tis dreadful, truly. Doesn't help that my entire household is sucked into mmo's right now. THEY'RE all playing world of warcraft, which scares me even MORE than CoH. because I think that WoW would actually threaten my ability to maintain my job. CoH gets close enough, thank you VERY much!

Thank the GODS I've been able to at least keep the basics tied together. It finally seems that I am keeping up with laundry and regular maintenance et cetera. Life is stabilizing. I need to get into the swing of tightening up the schedules and routines--you know, start making time for the things that scratch the various itches of my soul. like RP. God, how I miss RP. And art. As stated, I need RP to get art. So I can draw my characters doing things. I can't imagine my characters doing things that they haven't 'been' 'actually' 'doing'.

---

Ramblemode: ENGAGED

Every day though, I am so pleased and contented, almost to the utmost INSULTING degree of smugness that I DON'T WORK AT A GROCERY STORE ANYMORE!!! It only crosses my mind that some people still do when I feel guilty about saying it! That's backwards, I know--but the fact is, I'm not glad to be better than anyone in particular, I'm just glad to be better than MYSELF! TAKE THAT, ME! HAHA, I WIN. You know I would be WORKING RIGHT NOW!? it's 4:30 AM! That means I'd be taking my last fifteen minute break of the night, sore, stiff, tired, angry, disappointed, broke, with no direction, no future, no hope, and no reprieve.

I am just so ... so very, very, very glad to not be stacking those FUCKING BOXES! I STILL CRINGE AT THE SIGHT! THE THOUGHT! IT MAKES ME PHYSICALLY ILL! I HAVEN'T EATEN YET TODAY (for neglect) AND I STILL WANT TO PUKE! THIS, my friends, is the gleeful side of hating something: being RID OF IT! oh man, I could climb into my car and do a victory lap right now because I CAN ACTUALLY AFFORD THIS CAR THANKS TO MY JOB THAT IS NOT THE STOCKING OF SHELVES IN THE FUCKING KROGER!!!! BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!
VICTORY! YES! VICTORY IS MINE!

*ahem*
But here's another thing: I seem to be GOOD at what I do. Usually I have an observation around this time resembling "gee whiz I'm bad at what I do", but not this time! No way, man! I keep getting the reports saying "100% Rating! GREAT JOB, <Stone>! You're making for a great month! You're really WOWing our clients out there! Keep up the awesome work!"

The facility supervisor told me twice last week that she loves my attitude, and all I was doing was going for a stroll on my first break!

There are a few weaknesses I have. Namely, I don't know the bank policy verbatim. I WANT to... but I don't want to go through memorizing it e.e It's on the website. Right now, in fact. I could go there and read it right now. but I'd rather not. I'd like to find the motivation to carrot-wise (because the stick does not work very well for me at all) but I don't even really feel like -that-. Go figure. I am under the impression that it is not required, but some of the most inspirational tell-it-like-it-is no-mercy no-remorse service-with-a-mother-FUCKING-smile- and -you-know-you-goddamn-well-LIKE-IT-bitch client service associates in the facility feed clients back the exact word-for-word breakdown of the bank services agreement they signed when they opened their accounts.

Nowadays, I live with a far better understanding of how my accounts work and what I can expect from them.

For example,
Overdrafts.
Banks allow their checking accounts to overdraw for a very good reason. A very, VERY good reason. Can you guess? Not many people can--or want to for that matter. But consider this:

You're OUT of cash. You know you're out of cash and a single penny more is going to make your account NEGATIVE. But you're starving. Your kids need food, and payday is three days from now. You could get a payday loan... but you know those sharks are going to charge you 40% interest before you can pay it off! Your debit card is burning a hole in your pocket, and the supermarket is right there....
Go buy that food. Feed your kids. Hell, buy two hundred dollars' worth of food in one sitting, the overdraft item fee is STILL 35 bucks. If you have been a good client and had a positive balance of a substantial amount before... then you certainly CAN purchase that much more than what you've got, just as long as you remember to pay it back lickitty-split.

The landlord says you have until tomorrow to pay your rent, but scrape and scrounge as much as you could, you've only managed to turn up 400 dollars. you're 150 short. But there's an ATM machine on the corner.. You know you don't have the money right now, but you just got a new job and you get paid next week.

Go for it. Is having a roof over your head worth an extra 35 dollars just this once? Well, that's up to you. All we can tell you is: you have an option.


You'd be surprised how much angry clients soften up when they hear it put that way. I just recently, willingly, overdrew my account earlier today (before I got paid)... because i was hungry.
When I HAVE cash, I realized, I am an opulent, wasteful bastard, and I HAVE spent 40 dollars on just myself before. yes. ... lunch was five bucks that I didn't have.. but I reasoned that it's my fault for not budgeting right, that I'm paying 4-star master chef price for a hot dog and a slice of pizza, drink included from the Sam's Club down the road.

and now it's paid back. it's a tool, and it can be abused... and when you abuse it, it abuses YOU. it is something to be handled with utmost care, respect, if not FEAR... but still something that can be used. The deal can sound raw at first, but when you're between a rock and a hard place, that little tertiary option may very well be the lesser of available evils.

and sure, you may know of a credit union with smaller fees or higher spending limits or other shit like that.. but they're not paying me :p
You call it selling out,
I call it lifestyle-aware career based interest strategy.

Oh man. I fucking love the lingo too, oh my god.

You can just tell I'm sucking all the most purely evil and corruptive delights from this, right? That's another reason I love working for the bank. For every person I help, there is a warm fuzzy feeling of genuine happy contentment. For every person I have to shoot down in the name of the almighty godless system of greed, there is a shot of wild and sadistic GLEE. Plus I sit on my ass all day at a computer. How much better does it get? How much better DOES it GET?

okay, it's bedtime. Good night! <3

I could be making a potshot joke at global warming because this december is so frighteningly, ungodly warm...

I could be referring back to an old classic MMO called Asheron's Call...

I could be expounding upon the virtues of electricity...

but what I have to report is something more miraculous than alternating current; More entertaining than the dead MMOs of yesteryear--and WAY HOTTER than climate change--

something of the furry purr-suasion...

Ladies and Gentlemen,
This year... I will
Be Going To
ANTHROCON!!!

FAAAAD
QUIIIZ
!!!!!!!!!!

A - Available?: Yes :(
A - Age: 22
A - Annoyance: Arrogance, Hypocrisy

B - Best Friends?: Spiderfox, Rowan (den mother), Shapes The Silver (alpha female), Blackgrim (alpha's mate), Taxifox, Paul, Mikey (not furry), Fennec Wolfox, Becca-chan.
B - Bar: set higher, and higher, and higher @_@
B - Birthday?: 07/21/1985

C - Crush: TOO MANY TO COUNT ;_;
C - Car: Cassandra! My Gold 1996 Toyota Camry LE! <3
C - Cat: Three too many, but they're not mine >_> Kona belongs to Alpha Female, Harley belongs to Alpha's Mate, and Othello belongs to Den Mother.

D - Dead Pets Name(s): My parents' cat, Zipper. Also: one hamster in the sixth grade :( I'll never forgive myself.
D - Dad's Name: Mike.
D - Dog(s): None...

E - Easiest person to talk to: There are three people. I can't really narrow it down to one person, because it seems like ... it's been several lifetimes, several entirely different sets of circumstances that made more difference than I can have any hope of enumerating. I guess, though, that I should likely start with the most profound end of the spectrum and work my way back:

... Before there was ANYONE else who ever cared about me, especially in-person, there was k-san, or as she was known among the cabal I hung out with, the den mother of the HCC gaming club. Also whom I will always consider the heart and soul of The Come-Again Players, the best rocky horror performers I'll ever have the pleasure of knowing. Even though there are people I'm sort of close to today, there's no one I was quite as close to as her, before OR since. She was the only person I could just walk up to and *hug*, anytime, no matter what... IRL. We used to pile onto the couch in the gaming club; I could tell we stuck out amid all the others because there was no one else I could approach like that. There's still no one else like that now. I get too self-conscious... In fact, she is the reason I know I even -like- being close to people, even though I'm too timid today to ever try it wholeheartedly again. The woman I refer to as the 'modern day' den-mother (Rowan) gained the title because that's really what she was for the house. This is the den I am living in, and she was the mother of it. But she doesn't replace MY den-mother. There are some places in your heart that can't be filled by anybody else.

Now, as far as modern day den-mother, Rowan is someone I've shared more things with than I really feel comfortable with o.o she knows things that I never intended anybody to hear, but I said them, and just as you cannot unshoot an arrow, nor unspill your wine, you cannot unspeak your words; and it's worked out so far, so how can I regret? By now... It's hard to imagine anything that I can say that would go any farther than anything that's already jumped out... So generally, we're ... quite honest to eachother about things >_> it's an interesting connection that I can't exactly describe, but she acknowledges that it's there, too.

Lastly... there's Becca-chan. I knew her since high school. She was with me for years and years and years... how can I ever keep anything from her? I didn't. I honestly can't. She knew me better than anyone, especially me, and sometimes I think she still might... I even HOPE she still might... because I liked who I was near her o.o she was one of the major contributors to the foundation on which I built my entire personality. I used to call her my favorite bad influence :D oh man, the inside jokes we've got. Anthrax Bananas, possessed furbies, aliens that play hockey, PINK FUZZY PANTS, the bleached bones of tom green. I will never, ever forget @_@

...moving on,

E - Eggs: Soft Boiled ^_^
E - Email: mtd.mobius[at]gmail.com if you didn't see it the first time.

F - Favorite color?: PURPLE!! :D
F - Food: Chinese, artery-clogging heat-stopping DEATH on a bun (or in a wrap)--I find a kind of zen in eating things that dramatically decrease my lifespan: Here in my hand, I hold what were once the final three hours of my life.
F - Foreign Slang: Various snarls, growls, barks, and murfs. My slang escapes human boundary :D

G - Gummy Bears or Worms: WORMS, especially sour and VERY soft--! Mmmmmmmm...
G - God: Oh, it's out there. We can call it whatever we want, but it doesn't change the fact that we EXIST, and accepting the fact of 'is' may very well BE the base foundation for all that we know as SANITY. Which really isn't a very good foundation AT ALL--but that's how ALL of life is. Get used to it.
G - Good Times: Right Now. NOW.

H - Hair Color: Brown. BROWN. ...brown.
H - Height: 6'2"
H - Happy: OH MY GOD YES and PLEASE don't let me forget! :D I have an AWESOME LIFE that I wouldn't trade for anything!

I - Ice Cream: Mint chocolate chip, chocolate chip cookie dough, chocolate peanut butter cup annnnd... sherbet. ANY KIND. ESPECIALLY rainbow O_O
I - Instrument: Piano. I would love to play piano again... *wistful sigh*
I - Idol: All of my friends are role models for me in some small way. Each one is a patron of a various aspect which I particularly appreciate. I think there's even one whose patron aspect is the lack of patron aspect >_> funnily enough, that friend is NOT the patron friend of rationality paradox O.o

J - Jewelry: I collect wolf head pendants. I have several made of silver and one made of carved bone. I will spend up to 70 dollars on one in a single moment o.o I could really use that 70 now, but I will NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER give up that pendant. EVAR *HISS!*
J - Job: Banker. Call center division.
J - Jokes: What do you call a deer with no eyes?
"I-have-no-I-dee-ar"

K - Kids: Nope. I hope I can live without them indefinitely.
K - Karate: Nah. Too much of a pussy.
K - Kung Fu: See above. I'm a pacifist.

L - Love: I don't think I'll know what love really is until it lasts forever o.o
L - Longest Car Ride: 18 and a half hours! wait... do busses even count?
L - Lipstick or Chapstick: Usually neither, but i'll use chapstick if I REALLY need it bad.

M - Milk Flavor: STRAWBERRY... or... ORANGE O_O OH GODS have you SEEN IT!? It's... so beautiful...
M - Mother's Name: Carol
M - Movie Last Watched: Beowulf IN 3-D. It was actually pretty good!

N - Number of Siblings: 1 half-sister, by mother.
N - Northern or Southern: I was northern. Now I live in the Mid-Atlantic united states, what the northerners call south, and what the southerners call "over there". I think I like being an over-there-ian.
N - Name: Stoney!

O - One Wish: to never, ever be a burden on anyone I love ever again. I want to support the people I care about, not weigh them down... It haunts me continuously.
O - One Phobia?: ... being absolutely alone with nobody that I can ever trust or love.
O - Otter Pop: Zanzibar Turquoise.

P - Parents, are they married or divorced: Married!
P - Part of your appearance you like best: Glasses ^_^
P - Part of your personality you like best: GENEROSITY :D and patience, when I remember to use it!

Q - Quick or Slow?: SLLLLOOOOOOW ;_;
Q - Queer or Straight?: Straight.
Q - Queen or King?: ... I'll be honest with you. Queen. WEEEE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FREEEINDS...!

R - Reason to smile: My roommates.
R - Reality TV Show: Oh gods no, please no, NEVER, NOOOOOOOOoooooo....
R - Right or Left: Right

S - Song Last Heard: It has no name, no author, no particular style or theme...but it's always playing, it never stops, never rests, never repeats... it is my head x.x and sometimes I wish it WOULD.
S - Season: Fall makes me sad but I love it anyway.
S - Series: Space Opera of any kind for teh win. Especially doctor who.

T - Time you woke up: 8am. Days that I have to work, 7am-ish
T - Time Now: 1:22 am
T - Time for bed: in ten minutes.

U - Unknown: almost everything.
U - Unicorns: Everywhere you can't see them.
U - You are?: Amazed, thrilled, and disappointed, at everything, at once.

V - Vegetable you hate: ...beets. To be honest, I just don't like beets.
V - Vegetable you love: Carrots, Broccoli, Celery, Corn. That'll do it for me ^_^
V - View on Politics: Direct Democracy is the manifest destiny of sentient society. YOU CAN NOT STOP IT. It is already taking root. Just you WAIT. in 2023, Google will be releasing iGovern, and on THAT MOMENT, the power will be as much in your hands as it in mine, and EVERYONE else's. Prepare.

W- Worst Habit: Overspending, especially on food. I want to go back to my ramen diet.
W- Where are you going to travel next: Likely, I'll be visiting new york city again, or even Massachusetts to visit my family. Someday. Someday...
W- What's up?: Everything that matters, because in the end, nothing on this dustspeck world does...

X - X-Rays: NEAT-O! *creepy voice* I can see THRROOOOOUUUGH YOOOOUUU~~!!
X - X-Rated: YUMMY :D
X - XYZ: easy as abc, 123, do re mi, baby, you and me!

Y - Year you were born: 1985
Y - Year it is now: 2007
Y - Yellow?: RIGHT NOW. Today is a yellow day ^_^ (credits to den mother!)

Z - Zoo Animal: TIGERS!
Z - Zodiac: Cancer.
Z - Zoolander?: Never saw it. Never CARED to...


Aaaand that's it.

This one, I ganked from the lovely  lunarian_goddess

What is the name of your fursona?
Stone Taggart, "Stone Hawk", Stone, Stoney

Where did the name of your Fursona come from?
An old friend, during an informal chat RP eight (!) years ago gave me a special name for my character's "training". It was of supposed spiritual significance, and to be honest, he always seemed to have a knack for that sort of thing... Everybody got a name, which involved one element, and one creature. The only one I remember is Stone Hawk, mine. It stuck, and it became my identity among everyone who would eventually truly 'know' me as Me.

What species is your fursona and why did you choose that species?
Heeza woof! A white wolf, simply put, likely something north american, and also likely with some Dog blood in his past, perhaps one of his grandparents or great-grandparents was a white Labrador.

What color is your fursona and why? Hair/fur/eyes/etc
His fur is white, his hair is black, jet black. His eyes... are gray. But his favorite color is Gold, the slightly faded, metallic gold, maybe nearing brass or bronze, but he'll call it gold, and most will identify it as gold.

I can't really explain how I knew that these HAD to be his colors, but that's just how it is... I think he particularly enjoys the dawn, though... and he gets to see plenty of gold in the sky then. He also feels the most at home in autumn; the weather is getting cooler, the trees are colored beautifully, and it's comfortable in his thick fur.

What is your fursona's personality and how does this compare to your irl personality?
Stone Hawk is confident, patient, relaxed, easygoing, generous, kind, and generally content in disposition. Being a traveler, though not knowing where your next meal is coming from should trouble most people, he finds that when he needs something it's there. He leads a very simple life, going somewhere, and he won't know where until he arrives, confident that it'll all be alright when he gets there.

The point were Stone Hawk and I connect is that: when i throw caution to the wind and take the steps that feel good to my instinct rather than just my decadence, amazing... AMAZING things happen to me. I've come to accept that I'm a traveler, and as long as I'm traveling, I'll be where I need to be when I need to be there. I think that the universe has a plan for me, even if that plan may or may not involve any significance whatsoever... I just know that all you can do is your best, putting one paw in front of the other. ...and bonus points if you help others out as you go along the way.

What is one item your fursona owns that is significant to you irl?
I love his hat. I want that hat. I NEED... that hat. But it's not JUST the hat... The hat, the poncho, and the staff, with its beads and feathers, are a trademark for him, and I would like to carry them with me too. They're generally useful. Altogether, those and your clothes, maybe one bag... that's some pretty decent travel supply right there. With a nice wide hat like that, my shoulders would never know the cold, damp rain. With that poncho, I'll have a blanket when I rest, and adequate protection as I face the elements. With my good staff, I'll have better footing for the roads ahead... and adequate protection from the... less-natural 'elements', so to speak.

What is one thing you thing you would say to your fursona if you could meet?
I'd be speechless. Then I might ask him if he could use a traveling companion.

What is one thing your fursona would say to you if you could meet?
He wouldn't have to say anything. He'd smile that knowing smile and walk on.

How has your fursona changed over the years?
His layout of equipment has improved much, as well the various adornments he's collected in his travels. Little bits and charms here and there that require no significance but that they brought a smile out of him at some point. His poncho discovered its pattern, and I think that's rather important too.

How long have you had this fursona?
Since the summer of 2000.

Would you like to be more like your fursona?
I think he'd do a lot better with this life than I would...

Ok now tag three other people you would like to learn about!
:iconfennecwolfox! AH'M CALLIN' YEW OUT!
Also  aobeznez ^^ and  spiderfoxtail if you happen to see this ^^