Anyone who's talked to me for, like, a few minutes probably can guess that I'm open indeed to pretty much everything. I may not do certain things or whatever, but that's not saying I'll look down on people who are/are into whatever. BDSM? Not my thing, but if you like, sure, whatever, that's you. LGBT? None of those orientations do I belong to, but if you are, awesome for you. Catholic? Not me, but if you are, okay, good. Just so long as people don't try to force anything on me, I don't care what they are. I have a friend who wears a wolf tail (fake one, not one from an actual wolf O.o ) in RL sometimes, not sure what that makes him since he doesn't always wear it or if that matters, but I don't care. I have my mind generally wide open on any topic, other than stupidity, bigotry, close-mindedness...basically anything that clashes with my own self.
Why am I talking about this? In my state, there is currently a court case going on about getting rid of the law that bans gay marriage. Two couples are involved in this and one, the lesbian couple (not the gay partnership that started this) are legally married in California, but, with the law as it is, they do not have the rights married couples have. Even though they are married. Now, I'll admit, where I am is very conservative and, I think, part of the Bible Belt, if not part of it, it is one of the really close neighbors. So, yes, we're the stupid fucks who don't want anything to change. Yep. Now, with this case, I'm hoping for the best, but I'm not optimistic. If it changes, there's a chance that this could cause ripples, since this is one of the more conservative states. If it happens, maybe, jsut maybe, more states will loosen some. The Supreme Court, in my opinion, should get up and say 'yo, this breaks the countries constitution', but they don't because 'marriage is in the states' jurisdiction'. Now, I think they only give a damn about that because they don't want to become unpopular with the decision that is the only lawful way to go.
Okay, I'm not saying people can't be against gay marriage, but, really, how the hell does it affect you? If it doesn't affect you, why do you care so much? Are you going to go marry someone of your sex just because the law allows it? No, I don't think so. The people who love those of their own sex deserve love and marriage as much as the rest of us. I always have the scenario in my head of straights being the minority and their rights being taken away because of who they are attracted to, and I have asked people: what if you couldn't marry someone because they are of the opposite sex? What if you couldn't make decisions any other married couple could because you are not married or 'only' in a civil union? People tend to brush it off because 'that's not the way it is'. And calling being homosexual 'unnatural' is wrong. There has been studies, there is proof that there is a cell cluster in a gay man's brain about the same size as the same cluster in a woman's brain. I don't remember if it is bigger or smaller than the one in a straight man's brain, but that's proof it's not 'unnatural'. Hell, there are lesbian swans, people! (granted some do argue they are only a couple because there weren't enough male swans around, but the fact remains they are a couple.)
Now, the only argument that makes some logical sense is the one that children need a male and female role model. My only problem with that is that children can get the same from people outside their family, or other family members. But, still, there seems only two arguments against it: the Bible says no, and it is not good for children. From a psychological standpoint, yes, children need male and female role models, but they can get that influence elsewhere. Though, still, as I said, the only argument I'll half-ways accept is the latter, not the Bible. And I know a lot of other people who could care less about what it says because they are not under a faith that follows it. I'm not even going to get into how we pick and choose what we want to listen to.
I just...I don't understand how people can be so against certain things. It's like...it's not your issue, you aren't involved in any way shape or form. Gay marriage. Abortion. Interracial relationships. (Didn't the Cheerio's commercial get some uproar for that? So glad they keep playing it.) And all the other things that are controversial. Why must certain things be either illegal or 'not seen'? I advocate a lot few things, but that doesn't mean I'd do it.(Marijuana and prostitution being illegal for weed-brothels.. Hell, if you can tax it, it'll make the country more money, which is desperately needed as anyone who dens't live under a rock (maybe other countries, depending on how wordly said country/person is) can probably attest to.) Like abortion. It's your choice, do whatever. Would I personally have one? I don't see me ever doing that in any situation, even the most dire unless I had absolutely no choice. But that's me, not someone else. I highly doubt anyone goes around, paying for some expensive procedure, just because they got pregnant. Unless you're a sociopath, I don't see anyone being able to do that without some emotional toll. And, a small tangent: making abortion illegal won't do anything. It was illegal at one point, and that led to women using coat hangers and other backalley abortion procedures. Just because something is illegal, it won't put a stop to it.
But back to the topic of love. I fully believe that people should be able to love whoever, no matter what. Different race, same sex, different ages. If you love someone, you deserve to be able to be with them without some stigma saying you can't. I'm still waiting on a black and white gay couple where one is...20 and the other...35.Imagine what that would cause. (I say 35 only because I personally am not against a 15 year or so difference since said person is not old enough to be my parent. I haven't had such a relationship to see how well that would go, but I'm not like 'no, bad'.) But, hell, if you want to marry someone old enough to be your grandparent, go ahead, I don't care. You love 'em? They love you? Good. That's all that should matter.
I hope with Valentine's Day coming up that'll make whoever is deciding the case in my state a bit more leaning towards love for all, but not sure how well that'll go. I'll hope, for the sake of the couples and their children, as I know at least the legally married in California couple has a daughter. All that can be done with these sorts of things, is hope for the outcome that is more inline with the changing of the world.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Feather
Why can't I jsut leave things be? I don't know, but my mind is whirring once more and...well, this happened: a story to a picture I had taken just yesterday >.>
The wind is always soft and gentle. The tall, pinkish grass always soft and caressing. The sky always perfectly streaked with fluffy clouds tinted pink by the sun. There's a grove of dead trees and a ruin, but it's not allowed to go there. Only stay where the light can touch your face, that's the rule.
But one day I broke the rule, and I'm not entirely certain if I regret it or not.
I remember spinning, laughing, playing with the white and black butterflies. But one of them started going towards the Dead Place. I followed because I knew that it shouldn't go there; there were reasons we didn't go there. My mother always told me stories about what is kept there. The dark is kept there, the bad is there. I didn't even know how to define the word 'bad' or 'dark' other than to point to the dead trees and darkened ruin. I knew nothing beyond the small, naive world I was born in, or created for....I am not certain which.
I remember being...not afraid, for i did not know fear. I felt...curious, since the butterfly kept going through what used to be a grand entryway. I followed. The ruin was big with no top left, only walls. Brown ivy clung to the breaking stone, dead trees shot up from the ground. I kept walking, even though i had long lost the butterfly. Another gaping opening. It led to what looked like a courtyard for there was a dried out fountain in the center and the open top seemed purposeful. There was this...strange plant there. It was certainly living and was as tall as I was. Thick, green vines curled up into an oval, little white flowers blooming off of it. But that was not the strange part. What was odd was the water that seemed suspended in the oval opening, like a mirror almost. I walked to it and gently laid my hand on the surface, little circles coming from my hand like when you skip a stone on water. When the surface smoothed again, I saw a bench facing away from me. A moment later, I saw the bench was under a tree. On green grass. A gray sky overhead. More. People milling about with...things over their heads to protect them from... Water. Water coming from the sky. And there were these tall things with windows in the distance, reaching into the sky. Things zipping pass on something black between the tall things and the grass.
I was amazed, enraptured. I had never seen such a thing, and I wanted to go touch everything. But I knew that Mother would be wanting to see me soon. I left reluctantly, but came back that night. I hadn't asked on the strange mirror, since I had this feeling I shouldn't. I never kept anything from anyone before. it was...strange, and a rush somehow.
This time when I put my hand on the mirror, it was the same scene, only there was a night sky littered with these bright spots up above and no water fell from the sky. I have never seen night before, never known its beauty. But...there was something wrong. No people were wandering, but there was a man on the bench. He was hunched over, shoulders shaking. I had never seen someone act so...oddly. Curious, I pushed my hand through the watery mirror and, once it went through, I smiled brightly and went in fully.
The air smelled funny. Tangy. Sick. And the things zipping on the black stuff sounded loud even from there. And there were poles emitting light that seemed to dull the night's strength. I didn't like it, but the man was so close now. I slipped over tot eh tree and peered around it, biting my lip. He was making these...choking sounds. Why did he sound like that? From where I was, i could see only his back. Short brown hair, black clothes. I puffed my cheeks out and moved to sit next to the man. "Why do you sound so strange?," I asked, reaching out to put a hand on his arm for his attention. The cloth of his clothes was strange. He turned to me, blue eyes wide and red. I could see now that he wore all black, other than a white shirt underneath his upper layer. Why was he wearing more than one layer? And what was that black thing around his neck and under his top layer? He only kept staring at me, so I poked his arm. "Why do you not answer?"
He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, but only got up and left then. I was confused, but did not think much of it. Instead, I slipped back to the water mirror that now showed the ruin's courtyard.
A while later I was dancing through the green grass near the bench, just as I would with the butterflies on the other side of the mirror. People stared. I didn't know why. And then i saw the man on the bench again, smiling amusedly. "You're not from here, are you?," he called, patting the spot next to him. I blinked, shook my head, and went to sit. We talked. He apologized for having left so abruptly before. He said he was surprised to see me here again. He said his name was Nick. I told him mine was Feather. He thought I was not serious, but soon believed me. I decided I liked him. He was sad, though. He didn't tell me why.
And then I had to go. I kissed his cheek and skipped off to the mirror.
We met more times, too. He ended up telling me that, the night I found him, his closest friend had died. I did not know what to say, for I did not know what death was. When I asked, he looked at me strangely, but explained. "It's...when people just...stop. Their bodies stay, but...they are gone. Their heart stops beating, and they don't breathe anymore. It happens to everyone sooner or later...but it's never easy to accept." I was horrified. How could one just...stop? I left. I asked my mother. She asked where I heard about death from.
"Will I die? Will you? Everyone dies!" I felt...I don't know. She assured me I wouldn't die, that she wouldn't...that...people where I live don't. She asked again where I heard about death from. I didn't answer.
I went back through the mirror. He was there with roses. He apologized, gave me the flowers. I didn't understand, but I smiled and said it was alright, that I was glad he told me. And i was. But now I was worried, even though I didn't know the word at the time. He could die. We talked more. He asked where I am from. I told him about the mirror.
"Are you only a dream and I've gone insane?," he asked me after I explained. I was confused, but assured him I was real. I left again. or tried. I couldn't go with the flowers, somehow I knew that. So I put them up in the tree, then left.
Months, though I only learned the word later, passed and the leaves in the tree were changing. The air felt colder. But I kept in my not so warm dress. He told me he love me one of those days. I didn't understand, but it felt right to say I felt the same. He kissed me, and I indulged in it. When I left, I couldn't help but run to my mother and tell her about the man I met. I didn't tell her about the mirror.
"Feather. You do not see him again. These...things only serve to weigh you down. And certain things will not allow you to be at your home. You must understand that," she said firmly, seeming not so happy with me. I didn't understand. Love felt...wonderful. I told her as much. She told me a whole list of things that would keep from returning. And one of those things was...something strange... She said that it was how some 'lesser creatures' have children, and that it was a very bad thing. I still didn't understand, but I knew better than to say so.
I couldn't go back in the winter. The water in the mirror froze up on a scene of white snow falling from the sky and on the ground and everywhere. It was pretty, but I wanted to see, to speak to, Nick. The months were long and slow. And now I knew about time.
But spring came and i went through. Nick was there. he too me in his arms and spun me around. I told him the mirror had frozen. He didn't seem to care. He kissed me and took my hand, leading me through the loud noise and choking air to one of those tall things. He called them buildings, apartments. There was this...box that we went into. he pressed something into the wall, it lit up, and the box moved. I was amazed. And when he showed me his apartment, I had to touch everything. He told me what things were called while he made food. Books. Table. Couch. TV. Bed. Remote. Laptop. Clock. Phone. Stove. Microwave. Refrigerator. Everything was so amazing. I even foudn something he called underwear, boxers. He didn't seem to like me trying to figure out what they were for. Especially when i put them in the microwave and pressed the buttons. We ate...chicken. I never had chicken. We talked. I had to leave, though he asked me to stay. I promised to come back for dinner again. I did. But...one night in summer, a year after we had met... A year after, things... It still makes me sad.
I decided to stay with him, sleep in his home one night. I didn't care if my mother were to find out because I was in love. He offered to stay on the couch, wanting me to have his bed. But there was room for us both, so I let him stay with me. I kissed him, in a way to say good night, but, after a moment of him seeming hesitant, he kissed me for a long while. I indulged. He put his hands on my hips and slowly moved so that he was over me, kissing my neck. I didn't know why, but I enjoyed it, so i let him. His kisses moved to where the dip of my dress stopped. he sighed and looked to me, biting his lip, and spoke. Now I wish he hadn't. "I love you...and I feel that, if I don't ask you this, I'll take advantage of you. I...want you, Feather."
I furrowed my brows, trailing my finger tips over his lips. "I love you, too. But...you have me...how can you want me?," I wondered.
He didn't explain so much as utter one word. A word my mother told me would keep me here, keep me from going home. But it wasn't that that had me say what I did. I...realized then that I could only serve to keep him from having certain things, and I did not belong here. If I stayed, it would end as surely as if I left. "Nick..I...have to go," i whispered, feeling this strange stinging in my eyes as I moved out form under him and off the bed. "I love you, but...I don't belong here. You asked if I was a dream once, remember? It seems that is all I can be...I'm sorry." I kissed him softly and quickly left before he could say anything. Something wet was on my cheeks, coming from my eyes. Crying. He told me about this. I...was crying. And I felt so...sad...
I ran back to the mirror.
Mother found me sitting under a tree, the butterflies staying from me as I wove a new daisy chain the next day. I had left my old one in his apartment. "You went to him." I nodded, cheeks still wet with tears. "I told you it would not work, Feather. Now you know."
I nodded. "I know, Mother," I whispered, "Certain things only serve to hurt. I know where I belong." And I know where i want to be. But I never told her that.
But one day I broke the rule, and I'm not entirely certain if I regret it or not.
I remember spinning, laughing, playing with the white and black butterflies. But one of them started going towards the Dead Place. I followed because I knew that it shouldn't go there; there were reasons we didn't go there. My mother always told me stories about what is kept there. The dark is kept there, the bad is there. I didn't even know how to define the word 'bad' or 'dark' other than to point to the dead trees and darkened ruin. I knew nothing beyond the small, naive world I was born in, or created for....I am not certain which.
I remember being...not afraid, for i did not know fear. I felt...curious, since the butterfly kept going through what used to be a grand entryway. I followed. The ruin was big with no top left, only walls. Brown ivy clung to the breaking stone, dead trees shot up from the ground. I kept walking, even though i had long lost the butterfly. Another gaping opening. It led to what looked like a courtyard for there was a dried out fountain in the center and the open top seemed purposeful. There was this...strange plant there. It was certainly living and was as tall as I was. Thick, green vines curled up into an oval, little white flowers blooming off of it. But that was not the strange part. What was odd was the water that seemed suspended in the oval opening, like a mirror almost. I walked to it and gently laid my hand on the surface, little circles coming from my hand like when you skip a stone on water. When the surface smoothed again, I saw a bench facing away from me. A moment later, I saw the bench was under a tree. On green grass. A gray sky overhead. More. People milling about with...things over their heads to protect them from... Water. Water coming from the sky. And there were these tall things with windows in the distance, reaching into the sky. Things zipping pass on something black between the tall things and the grass.
I was amazed, enraptured. I had never seen such a thing, and I wanted to go touch everything. But I knew that Mother would be wanting to see me soon. I left reluctantly, but came back that night. I hadn't asked on the strange mirror, since I had this feeling I shouldn't. I never kept anything from anyone before. it was...strange, and a rush somehow.
This time when I put my hand on the mirror, it was the same scene, only there was a night sky littered with these bright spots up above and no water fell from the sky. I have never seen night before, never known its beauty. But...there was something wrong. No people were wandering, but there was a man on the bench. He was hunched over, shoulders shaking. I had never seen someone act so...oddly. Curious, I pushed my hand through the watery mirror and, once it went through, I smiled brightly and went in fully.
The air smelled funny. Tangy. Sick. And the things zipping on the black stuff sounded loud even from there. And there were poles emitting light that seemed to dull the night's strength. I didn't like it, but the man was so close now. I slipped over tot eh tree and peered around it, biting my lip. He was making these...choking sounds. Why did he sound like that? From where I was, i could see only his back. Short brown hair, black clothes. I puffed my cheeks out and moved to sit next to the man. "Why do you sound so strange?," I asked, reaching out to put a hand on his arm for his attention. The cloth of his clothes was strange. He turned to me, blue eyes wide and red. I could see now that he wore all black, other than a white shirt underneath his upper layer. Why was he wearing more than one layer? And what was that black thing around his neck and under his top layer? He only kept staring at me, so I poked his arm. "Why do you not answer?"
He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, but only got up and left then. I was confused, but did not think much of it. Instead, I slipped back to the water mirror that now showed the ruin's courtyard.
A while later I was dancing through the green grass near the bench, just as I would with the butterflies on the other side of the mirror. People stared. I didn't know why. And then i saw the man on the bench again, smiling amusedly. "You're not from here, are you?," he called, patting the spot next to him. I blinked, shook my head, and went to sit. We talked. He apologized for having left so abruptly before. He said he was surprised to see me here again. He said his name was Nick. I told him mine was Feather. He thought I was not serious, but soon believed me. I decided I liked him. He was sad, though. He didn't tell me why.
And then I had to go. I kissed his cheek and skipped off to the mirror.
We met more times, too. He ended up telling me that, the night I found him, his closest friend had died. I did not know what to say, for I did not know what death was. When I asked, he looked at me strangely, but explained. "It's...when people just...stop. Their bodies stay, but...they are gone. Their heart stops beating, and they don't breathe anymore. It happens to everyone sooner or later...but it's never easy to accept." I was horrified. How could one just...stop? I left. I asked my mother. She asked where I heard about death from.
"Will I die? Will you? Everyone dies!" I felt...I don't know. She assured me I wouldn't die, that she wouldn't...that...people where I live don't. She asked again where I heard about death from. I didn't answer.
I went back through the mirror. He was there with roses. He apologized, gave me the flowers. I didn't understand, but I smiled and said it was alright, that I was glad he told me. And i was. But now I was worried, even though I didn't know the word at the time. He could die. We talked more. He asked where I am from. I told him about the mirror.
"Are you only a dream and I've gone insane?," he asked me after I explained. I was confused, but assured him I was real. I left again. or tried. I couldn't go with the flowers, somehow I knew that. So I put them up in the tree, then left.
Months, though I only learned the word later, passed and the leaves in the tree were changing. The air felt colder. But I kept in my not so warm dress. He told me he love me one of those days. I didn't understand, but it felt right to say I felt the same. He kissed me, and I indulged in it. When I left, I couldn't help but run to my mother and tell her about the man I met. I didn't tell her about the mirror.
"Feather. You do not see him again. These...things only serve to weigh you down. And certain things will not allow you to be at your home. You must understand that," she said firmly, seeming not so happy with me. I didn't understand. Love felt...wonderful. I told her as much. She told me a whole list of things that would keep from returning. And one of those things was...something strange... She said that it was how some 'lesser creatures' have children, and that it was a very bad thing. I still didn't understand, but I knew better than to say so.
I couldn't go back in the winter. The water in the mirror froze up on a scene of white snow falling from the sky and on the ground and everywhere. It was pretty, but I wanted to see, to speak to, Nick. The months were long and slow. And now I knew about time.
But spring came and i went through. Nick was there. he too me in his arms and spun me around. I told him the mirror had frozen. He didn't seem to care. He kissed me and took my hand, leading me through the loud noise and choking air to one of those tall things. He called them buildings, apartments. There was this...box that we went into. he pressed something into the wall, it lit up, and the box moved. I was amazed. And when he showed me his apartment, I had to touch everything. He told me what things were called while he made food. Books. Table. Couch. TV. Bed. Remote. Laptop. Clock. Phone. Stove. Microwave. Refrigerator. Everything was so amazing. I even foudn something he called underwear, boxers. He didn't seem to like me trying to figure out what they were for. Especially when i put them in the microwave and pressed the buttons. We ate...chicken. I never had chicken. We talked. I had to leave, though he asked me to stay. I promised to come back for dinner again. I did. But...one night in summer, a year after we had met... A year after, things... It still makes me sad.
I decided to stay with him, sleep in his home one night. I didn't care if my mother were to find out because I was in love. He offered to stay on the couch, wanting me to have his bed. But there was room for us both, so I let him stay with me. I kissed him, in a way to say good night, but, after a moment of him seeming hesitant, he kissed me for a long while. I indulged. He put his hands on my hips and slowly moved so that he was over me, kissing my neck. I didn't know why, but I enjoyed it, so i let him. His kisses moved to where the dip of my dress stopped. he sighed and looked to me, biting his lip, and spoke. Now I wish he hadn't. "I love you...and I feel that, if I don't ask you this, I'll take advantage of you. I...want you, Feather."
I furrowed my brows, trailing my finger tips over his lips. "I love you, too. But...you have me...how can you want me?," I wondered.
He didn't explain so much as utter one word. A word my mother told me would keep me here, keep me from going home. But it wasn't that that had me say what I did. I...realized then that I could only serve to keep him from having certain things, and I did not belong here. If I stayed, it would end as surely as if I left. "Nick..I...have to go," i whispered, feeling this strange stinging in my eyes as I moved out form under him and off the bed. "I love you, but...I don't belong here. You asked if I was a dream once, remember? It seems that is all I can be...I'm sorry." I kissed him softly and quickly left before he could say anything. Something wet was on my cheeks, coming from my eyes. Crying. He told me about this. I...was crying. And I felt so...sad...
I ran back to the mirror.
Mother found me sitting under a tree, the butterflies staying from me as I wove a new daisy chain the next day. I had left my old one in his apartment. "You went to him." I nodded, cheeks still wet with tears. "I told you it would not work, Feather. Now you know."
I nodded. "I know, Mother," I whispered, "Certain things only serve to hurt. I know where I belong." And I know where i want to be. But I never told her that.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Simple
I'm a lover of simple designs without extra, unneeded flourishes. But I don't do simple. Does that make sense at all? I mean, whenever I do something, be it a picture or a drawing or whatever, there is some background, some meaning, some story to it. Even if I only keep that in my head, it still has something behind it. Maybe others don't know what the meaning is, but I do. Simple...it eludes e. I can make very simple designs, but it is not simple in essence. All of these musings are brought up because of a conversation on Flickr. See? Even conversations go beyond what is said! I'm hopeless, really, when it comes to this. I'm forever thinking, so maybe that has something to do with it? Maybe I'm trying to come up with something interesting when I personally am a rather run of the mill, normal, possibly boring person? I honestly have no idea.
As i said, I love simple looks. Who needs rhinestones and glitter (though I do love glitter) when just the swirls of the lines are enough? One of my wishes is to get a tattoo at some or another point, and that will be simple as well. In looks only. It'll have some meaning and not just be 'because I can'. Simple looks, simple gestures, simple...anything can have such a deep meaning, the simplicity is blown away once that is revealed. I am going to try and see if I can take a simple picture, or do a simple drawing, or...something, but I' not sure I'll be able. Now, I'm not saying that is a bad thing, but I do not think it possible for me. I might be wrong, and it'll be interesting to see if I am or not, but....I don't know. I'm very bad at doing things 'just because', and, perhaps, that could be seen as a bad thing in some people's eyes, but it can't be that bad. I mean, this is also why I always say what I mean, so it ca't be thought I mean something else or have some meaning underlying it. I don't want people to become upset because they misconstrue my words; if they're going to be upset, I'd rather it be because of my actual meaning. So I say what I mean, and mean what I say...even if my wording is off. It's how I am: a lover of simple surfaces, but knowing there is so much more beneath the surface.
As i said, I love simple looks. Who needs rhinestones and glitter (though I do love glitter) when just the swirls of the lines are enough? One of my wishes is to get a tattoo at some or another point, and that will be simple as well. In looks only. It'll have some meaning and not just be 'because I can'. Simple looks, simple gestures, simple...anything can have such a deep meaning, the simplicity is blown away once that is revealed. I am going to try and see if I can take a simple picture, or do a simple drawing, or...something, but I' not sure I'll be able. Now, I'm not saying that is a bad thing, but I do not think it possible for me. I might be wrong, and it'll be interesting to see if I am or not, but....I don't know. I'm very bad at doing things 'just because', and, perhaps, that could be seen as a bad thing in some people's eyes, but it can't be that bad. I mean, this is also why I always say what I mean, so it ca't be thought I mean something else or have some meaning underlying it. I don't want people to become upset because they misconstrue my words; if they're going to be upset, I'd rather it be because of my actual meaning. So I say what I mean, and mean what I say...even if my wording is off. It's how I am: a lover of simple surfaces, but knowing there is so much more beneath the surface.
Lauralie
It's late and I'm in that state where I could try to sleep, but if I did I wouldn't fall asleep for another hour. And since classes are canceled again for tomorrow, I'm letting my creative juices flow. So here's a little thing featuring Lauralie who may or may not be a maybe-minor-maybe-major char in some story or other I may or may not have <.< >.>
**********************************
Fuck. That's all that can describe this situation. Fuck.
"Mark, baby, don't make me have to do this!," I shout, trying to get his heart pumping with my hands, tears rolling down my cheeks. This can't be happening, it can't be....it... I don't want to be alone with all the shit going on! How can things have changed so quickly? Only some weeks ago we were riding across the country on his motorcycle. How could things have gone to hell so quickly?
I try some minutes more before I sit back onto the cave floor, pushing my hands through my hair. I don't want to do it. He's supposed to live. He promised. I push my tongue against one of my snake bite piercings as I think, but there's nothing to think about. I don't know how long it'll take, and all i can go off of for this are the movies I used to watch. But if those are anything to go off of... Oh God, Mark... He's a big stereotypical-looking biker, again in looks only, so how could this have happened? he's big and scary looking to most...this... Oh God...
I shake my head unwillingly but take up the pistol I had set near him. "Babe, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...," I whisper, feeling my heart split into an infinite amount of pieces as I pull the trigger, aimed for his head. Slowly I open my eyes, not having realized I closed them, but quickly turn away, feeling sick. I want to sit here and sob, nothing else. But I know I can't. I know it. I have to go, like we planned. I have to go and find people. Find a group. Find...find something. See if those Safe Zones are worth anything.
Somehow I find myself outside the cave and walking. Walking to the river we've been using as a water source. I kneel down, feeling my already cut up legs scrape against the stone. I need pants, not a mini skirt. Need to find some. Cup some of the flowing water in my hands and drink. Water is life, right? But I feel so empty it seems to not matter...
Alone. I don't plan things, but I never in a million years dreamed this would happen... Why did this have to happen? Why did... It's all my fault. I know it is. I..thought we could grab a bit more before leaving... I thought... We couldn't... We couldn't... I thought...
I was stupid and now Mark is dead. I want to just lay here and not care who or what happens on me. I jsut want to give up. I can't, though. We had a plan. We promised each other that, if the other were to die, the living one would go on with the plan. The world has enough dead people in it.
The sound of something banging on metal draws my attention upwards and over the small river. I think to see a young man, maybe about my age, banging on something in the ground, shouting something I can't quite make out. Dude's gonna get himself killed with all that shouting.
Find people. That was what Mark and I were going to do. There's a person..and I found him... I'll do what I can only 'cause it was the plan, and, now, I have nothing other than a plan. Plans are good, even if i haven't had 'em before.
**********************************
Fuck. That's all that can describe this situation. Fuck.
"Mark, baby, don't make me have to do this!," I shout, trying to get his heart pumping with my hands, tears rolling down my cheeks. This can't be happening, it can't be....it... I don't want to be alone with all the shit going on! How can things have changed so quickly? Only some weeks ago we were riding across the country on his motorcycle. How could things have gone to hell so quickly?
I try some minutes more before I sit back onto the cave floor, pushing my hands through my hair. I don't want to do it. He's supposed to live. He promised. I push my tongue against one of my snake bite piercings as I think, but there's nothing to think about. I don't know how long it'll take, and all i can go off of for this are the movies I used to watch. But if those are anything to go off of... Oh God, Mark... He's a big stereotypical-looking biker, again in looks only, so how could this have happened? he's big and scary looking to most...this... Oh God...
I shake my head unwillingly but take up the pistol I had set near him. "Babe, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...," I whisper, feeling my heart split into an infinite amount of pieces as I pull the trigger, aimed for his head. Slowly I open my eyes, not having realized I closed them, but quickly turn away, feeling sick. I want to sit here and sob, nothing else. But I know I can't. I know it. I have to go, like we planned. I have to go and find people. Find a group. Find...find something. See if those Safe Zones are worth anything.
Somehow I find myself outside the cave and walking. Walking to the river we've been using as a water source. I kneel down, feeling my already cut up legs scrape against the stone. I need pants, not a mini skirt. Need to find some. Cup some of the flowing water in my hands and drink. Water is life, right? But I feel so empty it seems to not matter...
Alone. I don't plan things, but I never in a million years dreamed this would happen... Why did this have to happen? Why did... It's all my fault. I know it is. I..thought we could grab a bit more before leaving... I thought... We couldn't... We couldn't... I thought...
I was stupid and now Mark is dead. I want to just lay here and not care who or what happens on me. I jsut want to give up. I can't, though. We had a plan. We promised each other that, if the other were to die, the living one would go on with the plan. The world has enough dead people in it.
The sound of something banging on metal draws my attention upwards and over the small river. I think to see a young man, maybe about my age, banging on something in the ground, shouting something I can't quite make out. Dude's gonna get himself killed with all that shouting.
Find people. That was what Mark and I were going to do. There's a person..and I found him... I'll do what I can only 'cause it was the plan, and, now, I have nothing other than a plan. Plans are good, even if i haven't had 'em before.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Human Condition
The human condition has been termed and interpreted in so many ways. Various aspects are thought of and wondered about, but enough can't always be certain that certain things are across all humans. Really, the human condition is just...random... We're emotional creatures, who try to fight that emotion with logic. Which wins out? At least in my case, emotion does. There are some who can override emotion with logic, then there are those who simply are incapable of feeling any emotion; the latter being sociopaths, so I won't go too much into that. But for people like me, emotion wins out...roughly 90% percent or more of the time.
Little things can bring people down when they're in a low mood. Little things can stack up until they topple over and cause someone to fall down into a bad mood. Logic can tell someone to not worry since it's...life, you can't do anything for it. But emotion? Well that's the bitch that makes things difficult depending on what level you feel things. Some people can hide behind a shield of apathy, but have little things that can make the feelings of guilt and remorse resurface. Some only have that issue when it comes to people they care about. Long days can make some who already feel not so great feel worse. Things not working out, can make people feel awful. Life just...going on and being life as it is, can make people slip and fall however low they may go.
This is not about depression, but of simple low points that people feel at times. It hurts, but it's just how things are. If you're a logical person, good for you, glad you can override whatever. If you never feel low points, congrats. But for people who can slip into funks that last a couple days, maybe a week or so, that's life. Knowing that doesn't make things better, but so long as the knowledge that it will pass, that you can get on out of that pit of sadness or whatever soon, that, if you upset someone in a generally minor way (like saying something not too detrimental, not...saying they should kill themselves and honestly meaning it, or, hell, even not meaning it) that they will get pass that, too, so you don't have to feel guilty anymore. And always remember the bright spots there; be it seeing and laughing with friends, or just taking some time to relax on your own.
I'm not an optimist by any means, but hope is something that is part of the human condition, I think. You need hope to tell you that things will pass, that you won't want to curl up in a corner someplace for the rest of your life, that...whatever surrounds you is not permanent. If it weren't for hope, everyone would fall into serious depression, not just bad moods. Hope is the line between being broken and being held together.
Little things can bring people down when they're in a low mood. Little things can stack up until they topple over and cause someone to fall down into a bad mood. Logic can tell someone to not worry since it's...life, you can't do anything for it. But emotion? Well that's the bitch that makes things difficult depending on what level you feel things. Some people can hide behind a shield of apathy, but have little things that can make the feelings of guilt and remorse resurface. Some only have that issue when it comes to people they care about. Long days can make some who already feel not so great feel worse. Things not working out, can make people feel awful. Life just...going on and being life as it is, can make people slip and fall however low they may go.
This is not about depression, but of simple low points that people feel at times. It hurts, but it's just how things are. If you're a logical person, good for you, glad you can override whatever. If you never feel low points, congrats. But for people who can slip into funks that last a couple days, maybe a week or so, that's life. Knowing that doesn't make things better, but so long as the knowledge that it will pass, that you can get on out of that pit of sadness or whatever soon, that, if you upset someone in a generally minor way (like saying something not too detrimental, not...saying they should kill themselves and honestly meaning it, or, hell, even not meaning it) that they will get pass that, too, so you don't have to feel guilty anymore. And always remember the bright spots there; be it seeing and laughing with friends, or just taking some time to relax on your own.
I'm not an optimist by any means, but hope is something that is part of the human condition, I think. You need hope to tell you that things will pass, that you won't want to curl up in a corner someplace for the rest of your life, that...whatever surrounds you is not permanent. If it weren't for hope, everyone would fall into serious depression, not just bad moods. Hope is the line between being broken and being held together.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Empathy
I sometimes wonder just how many people feel a empathy with their characters in roleplay. I know I do, an if only because I've sat here before, crying and typing simultaneously. But crying not because I'm sad, but because I feel for the character, namely Armalla in this case since the other hasn't really been crying yet. Yet. But arguably she's more emotionally stable in certain aspects, so that's probably why. Still, I feel for these two: the married mother of two half-elf, and whichever incarnation of Ryleah. (I don't include Nevi in this because she's...a work in progress, i guess, being a child still.) I've always liked to think I have a decent empathy level and a higher emotional intelligence - both only assumptions except for the latter since recently - so that could have something to do with it, but I'm not sure. To really truly be able to type well for whoever you 'become' for however long, don't you have to connect on some sort of emotional level? After a certain roleplay ends...does it leave you feeling some sort of way for a short while? Like...if something ends a bit sad, do you feel melancholy? If it ends on a happy note, is there some sort of happiness in you? It works that way for me at least. And, yes, the reason I've got these thoughts is because of how I was left with something of a melancholy feeling today.
Another reason for these thoughts is because I posted two pics on flickr and ended up easily putting the thoughts of the two chars pictured as the 'description'. Eve when I'm not typing for whoever, I can still flip a switch and have their thoughts. Is that weird? Am I the only one with that simple chamber in my brain labeled with their names? It's as easy as if I were to open a door to a room called 'Armalla' and another 'Ryleah'. Weird or are their others?
Maybe it's because I have the mind of a writer (even though I haven't finished writing any story 'cause I get too many ideas and have to write whatever down, even if it's totally unrelated and a different story all together) and that's why I am able to just think their thoughts? It only takes me but a second to think of what Ry might be thinking around this moment or just after her day's end. Then for Malla, even though i didn't play as her today, doesn't take long either. It makes more sense for Malla since I've been playing as her for a couple years now, and Ry...well...I can't explain the ease with which she comes. Like I said, maybe it's just because I have a creative mind? or it is falling into the empathy? I think maybe more so the empathy since if you understand someone's emotions, you can guess at their thinking, their motives. Maybe it's all only to an extent, but it makes sense doesn't it? If you can feel a strong sort of empathy towards someone, you can understand them; that goes for roleplay characters, too.
I know, I know, 'they're not real' 'they don't feel', but don't they to an extent? Maybe it's something that could be easily wiped away if you as the typist chose for it to be...but don't they yet have feelings? Maybe not like the real person typing for them, but there's still some form of it. Does whatever character you have react jsut as you would in a situation? I know sure as hell Malla cries more openly than I do plus other issues. Ry on the other hand...apathy seems to be her defense mechanism, so I can relate on that note, but...she's still more open and outgoing than I am. I think she might also feel more fiercely than I do, which is a scary thought since I thought that when I feel strongly for something/someone, I feel strongly for it/them...but that's still a 'we shall see' thing.
Okay, maybe I'm crazy, but this is how I see it. When it comes down to it, if you can empathize with your character, it'll work wonderfully...if have you unable to see your keyboard. But it certainly gives more to whatever experience, sad or otherwise, and I like it. Crazy or not, I'm all for it.
 |
| Shhh, it doesn't matter. It doesn't. |
Maybe it's because I have the mind of a writer (even though I haven't finished writing any story 'cause I get too many ideas and have to write whatever down, even if it's totally unrelated and a different story all together) and that's why I am able to just think their thoughts? It only takes me but a second to think of what Ry might be thinking around this moment or just after her day's end. Then for Malla, even though i didn't play as her today, doesn't take long either. It makes more sense for Malla since I've been playing as her for a couple years now, and Ry...well...I can't explain the ease with which she comes. Like I said, maybe it's just because I have a creative mind? or it is falling into the empathy? I think maybe more so the empathy since if you understand someone's emotions, you can guess at their thinking, their motives. Maybe it's all only to an extent, but it makes sense doesn't it? If you can feel a strong sort of empathy towards someone, you can understand them; that goes for roleplay characters, too.
I know, I know, 'they're not real' 'they don't feel', but don't they to an extent? Maybe it's something that could be easily wiped away if you as the typist chose for it to be...but don't they yet have feelings? Maybe not like the real person typing for them, but there's still some form of it. Does whatever character you have react jsut as you would in a situation? I know sure as hell Malla cries more openly than I do plus other issues. Ry on the other hand...apathy seems to be her defense mechanism, so I can relate on that note, but...she's still more open and outgoing than I am. I think she might also feel more fiercely than I do, which is a scary thought since I thought that when I feel strongly for something/someone, I feel strongly for it/them...but that's still a 'we shall see' thing.
Okay, maybe I'm crazy, but this is how I see it. When it comes down to it, if you can empathize with your character, it'll work wonderfully...if have you unable to see your keyboard. But it certainly gives more to whatever experience, sad or otherwise, and I like it. Crazy or not, I'm all for it.
 |
| Just wait a bit longer. |
Sunday, January 12, 2014
January 12th
Is it strange I want to skip over today and head straight into tomorrow? I'm looking forward to tomorrow because of one reason, really, but shouldn't I want today to last? I'm another year older today...and I don't hate my birthday, but I don't love it either. It's more of a... 'oh, it's my birthday? Eh, feels like a normal day to me'. Pfft, I'm really very awkward in that matter, i guess, but i'm awkward in a lot of things, too. Then again not much is done on my birthday anyway, so that might play into it a bit. I don't know, I just know it's another year added to me and all the more reason to work on the list of things to do/change I made for this year.
Age is something that matters so little on the internet unless you chose to divulge it. You can guess to a certain extent, but otherwise it's all just theory. And SL is one of those places that attracts people from all ages, even those who aren't really 'supposed' to be on here. It happens, so...age is...really relative. Personally I'm all for age being a little teeny tiny thing, but I'm really starting to think I'm the only one of that opinion... Eh, well I'm opinionated as it is, so this would not be new lol But when you take that anonymity that Sl offers and think about that in regards to...anything..and if you think of how if that one specific thing were to apply in RL, it can give you some new thoughts. Of course it has its stereotypes and various other bad things, but there are plenty of things that makes it a bit more 'open' than in RL. Maybe only more open-minded people run about in the virtual world? I don't know, could be. Nothing is perfect, but certain small aspects can have you wonder if they should be applied elsewhere. At least it has me think and wonder about the various operations of both worlds and what works and what doesn't and how important things should or should not be... Comparing two thing side by side really can just make some things see questionable.
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