In All Candor

Barring any unforeseen entanglements or further actions by the other parties involved, in less than two weeks (12 days), my divorce will be finalized, legalized and recognized, and the official and final marker will lay in memorial to the single most incredible, momentous, and impactful relationship within the last 10+ years of my life and my journey thus far. It feels like a big monster revealed on a movie screen, that is both larger lan life, yet within the context, smaller than my own body, both impressive and evocative, yet somehow unreal and yet almost believable, dislocated from reality and requiring some sort of suspension of disbelief, like the subconscious echo of a strange dream you jolt awake from, a spectacle that impacts you in the moment, shakes you deep in your bones, to your soul, yet fades almost as soon as the lights turn on and you take that first deep breath of wakefulness, stirring your hands and feet and feel the blanket over you rather than the mists of your own mind.

It is both the most tangible and hyper realistic, tactile and solid thing in my life, yet it also feels like a the wisps of that bad dream fading, not real, divided from reality, a lark or random bad day dream, a stray bad thought arising to check and balance your good mood when you get too full of yourself on a winning streak or right after you blow out the candle for your birthday wish.

But it is just like that wish, you know the one, the one you made sometime between 17 and 21? You know the one, it was the last real wish you ever made, where you knew in your heart, that it wasn't likely to come true, and with that, the final shred of innocence you unknowingly shepherded right up until that point, finally dissolved like the smoke wafting from that candle, when you realise that if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride...

The truth is both more needed and more terrible than you could ever admit, than anyone who ever really cared about you could ever bring themselves to telling you; Santa isn't real, and neither is Mickey Mouse or his friends the Disney Princesses, it's all a lovely pretty little white lie, a scam, a ploy and a practical joke, a stick without a carrot, a cheat code empowered boss, a nerf sold as a buff.

The Cake is a Lie, Pyrrha dies for nothing, Kodlak gets to Sovngarde but Aduin consumes him, the Templars are the least of your worries, not everyone gets to go home, and some who do, only go home to die...



In the end, all I wanted was someone to choose me, over anyone and everyone else, to stand up and say "This one? He is mine!" and prove to me, that they thought I was worth it, no matter what the circumstances, to fight for me, to fight with me, to forsake all others for my sake, for my soul, and for the sake of themselves, to want and to need me in the same way I want and need them, to be the best person they could be, for me to be the best person I could be, for the sake of us, for the sake of we, to work through it all, easy or hard, to surrender self until self, to become one thing in two parts, and to strive towards something greater.

Instead, I get to feel like I've wasted the last seven years of my life, all on some weak and dirty thing. As if I had bet it all on a lie, or cowardice, or a lack of resolve, as if it means nothing of great importance, as if all of the struggle, sacrifice and effort was just for the sake of entertainment value, like a caged beast in a circus, as if my tears, my scars, my trials, my efforts, my all and my everything, every moment, every tear, ever dollar, every step, every mile, every secret was worth nothing more than a moment of panicked disdain. Or even less than.

I bent until I broke, and when I dared refused to give or bend anymore, because I simply could not, I was cast out like a soiled pair of underwear with the crotch rotted out.

Thanks.



But I don't hate you, hurt as I truly am, as much as you have staggered me, I'm just saddened and disappointed that you became everything you said you feared and hated.


But I'm still standing.

And more vile and proactive people than you have tried to lay me low, with intent no less, and between me, them and you, the only one who is ever gonna take me out is God himself, or me, and I aim to take the most perfect and righteous form of vengeance out on everyone who has attacked me: I'm gonna fucking keep on swinging.

I'm taking back that quote I gave you, here and now, so take note: You're never beaten, if you never quit.


As the man in the movie once said; "I didn't hear no bell..."

The Infinite Library

A nameless wise man once said: "When you come to the last page, close the book."

The story of ones life, is indeed a constant rising and falling action, and like any good book, there is a tension that builds from conflict, sometimes rapidly, sometimes slowly, and often times there are stretches of stability in between them, plateaus that connect the valleys and mountains as it were.

Holding to the topographical nature of the above allegory for a moment, the journey forward is filled, lousy even, with trails and roads, some well worn, others yet to be discovered or blazed, yet all inevitable as the sunrise, even if for some of us, the path chooses us rather than us the path, or in my own case now, chosen for me.

Just like when the either incompetent or disdainful or more often oblivious driver cuts you off, forcing you to either slam on the brakes or change direction (or again both literally and metaphorically in my case) or even force onto a whole other path you do not want to take, or cannot wish to traverse without taking damage, you cannot hope to always take the road you want, even if once more in my case, you don't have a set route in mind, but you know more or less what you want your next destination to be, and are open to taking whatever street or highway presents itself to get you there. Knowing the terrain you are going to be moving across is key to success, but how many of us can truly know what lies ahead in a dynamic landscape formed as much by God's unstoppable machine that is the universe, as much as by his highest creation; flawed, imperfect humans?

Imperfect we all may be, yet the drive to create, well, something, anything, still pulls us along, and in this, from this, I believe, we all take our part in writing our own stories, and unwittingly take part in writing the stories of others, and in this, we all see ourselves as the heroes, or at least the protagonist, of our own tales, yet we so easily forget that for most others, we are but a passing bit character or a temporary part of the larger narrative, and in some cases, far more often than we realize, the antagonist in someone else's tale.

A popular and respected fiction writer once posited that the only real difference between real life and fiction was that fiction must make sense (Tom Clancy) and to that end, the ever ill defined "X factor" we as people are, is ever more the thing that motivates us, when viewed from the outside. And yet it is also that which is hardest to define, sometimes even more when we attempt to articulate it.

When one is telling a story, be it through acting out, writing, singing or even just simple recounting, the underlying force behind that "X factor" is motivation. It is the thing most easily overlooked or forgotten, yet it is central to all that drives us. It is also, most often, that which we as humans, attempt to hide, obscure or disguise from outside observation.

The most bare, plain and simple questions, "What" & "Why" (as in "what did you do and why did you do it?") are often, some of the hardest to answer, because in being honest, we are exposing our motivations, we are allowing a core aspect of ourselves to be vulnerable, and this often runs contrary to the self-preservation instinct, more so when we KNOW that our motivations are not only selfish, but possibly (or most assuredly) malevolent. We don't like admitting that what we want is going to cost someone else, something, because that also comes up against the social impulse that is found in our DNA. We never, in the moment at least, stop to consider that it is this binary push and pull, that we must seek to balance. That it is the distinction and conflict between selfishness and generosity that may bring about a serviceable and sustainable equity.

It is of course a core element that follows the rule of story telling wherein conflict drives a narrative forward. But conflict takes many forms, and comes in many levels of intensity. As does our resolve to face it and learn and grow from it.

Yet it is, in my personal opinion, a cowardly personality that seeks to define conflict, as a form of abuse. While I do understand and agree that conflict can most assuredly LEAD into abuse, conflict itself is not by it's nature abusive, but rather the method in which we seek to meld the motivations of two or more persons.
Conflict resolution is (or should be) the aim, so that the parties involved might agree upon a goal, and work towards personal fulfillment, with as little compromise or cost as is needed to achieve harmony.

But again, real life, unlike fiction, does not always make much sense, and real people, unlike trope laden archetypal characters, do not always KNOW what they want, or how to get it, and above all, real people do not have the benefit of an outside "all knowing" force to directly control and guide them, in such things, and more to the point, there is no master outline or plan to ensure that everyone gets something they want, or promise that they get what they deserve.

But even so, our lives are our stories, and the best over arching stories, have more than one book, take years to write (if not to read), and are always on some level, a work in progress.

As the authors of our own lives, and the consumers of others, much as we might enjoy or wish to reread favored tales, there comes a time when we must admit to ourselves that, yes, we have reached the last page, and it is indeed time to close the book.

Only then can we move on to the next one, to figure out or discover what comes next.

Beginning, Middle, End.

It is the nature of the universe, it is our nature, and we cannot escape it.

Hard numbers, hard truths

The following is a video that has been out for a while. It is criminal how few views it actually has given that its almost 4 years old now...

I'm already damn near a statistic now, but I refuse to be another afterwards.

I was looking forward to being a minority statistic before long. Looks I am forced to join the majority.

Direct link below (copy/paste)
https://youtu.be/zOP793671p0