Looking for inspiration, was going over some old poetry of mine. Came across this one from a few years ago:
__________
Taking Flight (2003)
If I weren't such a coward I'd just fly away -
Away from the charnel-house reek of decay.
Fling myself forth without haste or delay,
With other like souls to frolic and play.
But because I'm a coward, in this hell I stay,
where disgrace and self-pity assault me each day,
My missteps and failures they proudly display,
And poison my soul with despair and dismay.
Break away, break away, with the dawn fly away -
Let the pain and self-hatred o'er my heart hold no sway,
Unbound by the pettiness that dark hearts obey,
Let my soul fly in freedom, bright wings to essay.
__________
That was how I was feeling at the time. For a long while. Trapped. By a job I loved to do, but for people who had no appreciation or respect for anyone. And the worst thing is, I knew it, and yet for so long did nothing about it. Out of a misguided sense of stubbornness and obligation, I kept myself there for so long. Much longer than I should have.
Now I have flown free. And I'm slowly breaking free of that mindset. It's like there was a poison flowing through my veins, clouding my thoughts and slowly tainting my soul - and now it's gone. There are still after-effects, of course, and my recovery has slow, but steady.
...and while it seems obvious now, I was still rather surprised at how scary it's been, trying out these wings. And I haven't even really gotten started yet. It's taking a while, but I'm getting there... I think.
Sometimes I wonder, though - why is it that I always try to do things the hard way? (>_<)
I was coming home from work the other day on the bus (...damn I need a car...), half-drowsing, when suddenly I heard familiar chatter. Japanese chatter.
Didn't try to listen in or anything, but still it was kinda cool. I haven't heard a lot of Japanese chatter out in public since I moved out here. It was kinda comforting, yet at the same time made me kinda melancholy. Because it reminded me once again how far I am from "home."
But... where is "home" anymore? I still don't quite feel like it's "home" here, and yet... "home" isn't back with the folks anymore either.
So I went and turned on my PlayOnline thing today, to check my mail and stuff. And also 'cause I am thinking about starting up the game again. After all this time, I still dearly miss the tarutaru.
It's been such a long time since I logged in. Still, there's just something about that log in music, and that locking sound... it just brings a smile to my face, and I feel a sense of anticipation in my heart.
I'm not saying that the game was without flaws. It's impossible to solo after a certain stage, gear is very important AND hellishly expensive. Crafting is expensive and FRUSTRATING, seeing as how your random skill-ups are from .1 to .3 at a time. Finding parties is often a drag. It made my brain hurt to try to play AND roleplay AND translate English -> Japanese and Japanese -> English for some parties. And the psychological scarring caused by forcing a tarutaru THF to backstab loincloth-clad giants... *shudders*
But despite all the flaws, FFXI will always be a special game to me. It brought me back to MMORPG's, after I had sworn them off. It renewed some of my faith in myself, and in online people. It gave me the opportunity to RP in a game again. It gave me the chance to meet Talathar, the littaru cheery tarutaru that now takes up a littaru corner in my soul - the happy silly side of myself that rarely gets expressed in public. And it allowed me to meet a great bunch of friends, who then proceeded to drag me off to WoW, where I met a whole NEW bunch of friends.
Which, in a round-about way, is leading me back to FFXI. 'Cause a friend from WoW is talking about starting up FF again. And I miss adventuring with him. So anyway I went and checked the "Reactivate Content ID" screen today. According to that, Talathar and her sisters are all still there, sitting in their mog houses. Gave me a fuzzy warm feeling, to see them all there still.
It's going to be painful to start all over at level 1 again, with no resources... heck, my brother gave me money and gear when I started out on Seraph, so I'm kinda spoiled. And I know it's not going to be the same, what with the folks I used to play with all still firmly ensconced in WoWage.
Still... I think I'm going to see if I can budget a second MMORPG into my life.
Beware, people of Vana'diel. The tarutaru may be making a return...
...wtf is up with this evil heat? It's been in the high 80's - 90's this week. And there's a really dry wind.
It's like the old Santa Ana winds back home.
I hated those winds. And I hated that kinda weather. At least back home, it usually didn't start until summer.
It's May, dammit. Only May! Geez, if I wanted sweltering heat I could have stayed back home. Or gone to some tropical place.
...oh wait, tropical places have bugs, and I've got that slight littaru phobia...
*sigh*
Worse, because my room is so hot with little circulation, I have to try keeping the door open. Which is a problem, because the cats want to come in. But the cats, being hot, are shedding - which already is making my allergies do interesting things to my nasal passages as it is. So I have this cardboard box barrier blocking my door... but I still have to keep an eye on the door, 'cause sometimes the cats try anyway...
*sigh again*
Ah well... who needs to breathe anyway, right?
...oh wait...
__________
I don't know how I'm feeling right now. Am I happy?
I'm not miserable. I mean, I miss my family still, and all my friends back home. But I'm not falling to pieces or anything. I suppose I'm content enough. I guess. Been having bouts of melancholy, but that is normal enough for me.
But I do find myself missing the company. I especially find myself missing my brother. Even though sometimes he drove me crazy, it was always nice to know that if I needed to talk, he was just over in the next room. And I miss hanging out with my friends - going to coffee, or out to dinner, or just visiting with them from time to time.
And the babies! I miss seeing the little babies. All my friends back home have those cute little girl babies. And they're all so cute!
... okay... girly moment over... sorry about that...
As for me... well... I've pretty much given up on all that. After my last blundering bout of stupidity involving my wayward (and utterly devoid of any hint of intelligence) heart, I don't feel I can ever trust it again. It's to the point now that I find myself almost literally running away to avoid allowing my emotions to become too invested in anyone.
Yeah yeah, stupid of me. Blah blah blah, better to risk, yadda yadda, perfect match out there somewhere, and all that stuff. Bah. I've heard it all before. I've said it all before to others - and for them I meant it sincerely. But for me? Nah, dun think so. Not me. Some people don't deserve that kind of happiness.
...okay... so there's just a bit of self-directed bitterness there... (but then, when someone uses you to basically trick you into giving away 10 years of creative work... well... yeah, YOU try not to be just a littaru bitter...)
For the most part, I don't blame anyone else for what happened. Mostly, I blame myself - for placing my trust in the wrong person. Sometimes I blind myself to the faults of others. It's a struggle to see people not as I want to see them, but for what they are.
It's a struggle to try to find forgiveness in my heart for the wrongs of the past. I don't know if I can do it. I know I should let it go, but it's very hard for me to do. I tend to be rather easy going and all, until someone crosses the line. After that, I have the VERY bad tendency to hold grudges - and hold them I do, as tightly as a miser holds his last gold coin in a crowd of beggars.
But forgiving others is still easier than finding that same forgiveness for myself. And I don't know why. I've never known why.
Too many times, words said in seeming ignorance hurt innocent bystanders. Like a gun shot into the air - that bullet has to come down sometime, somewhere. Hopefully it doesn't hit anyone one the way back.Sadly, too often when someone tries to explain WHY such comments or words are hurtful, they are met with disdain and ridicule. "I didn't mean it that way," is a common response. Because sometimes just admitting that you didn't know that something might be offensive is too hard to do. Other times, it's just the lingo, part of the way the cool crowd talks, and so no one wants to go up against the crowd. Whatever the case, not all things are offensive all the time. It really does depend on the situation. Was the comment said jokingly, or with malicious intent? Was it an appropriate thing to say at the time? For example, if you call your friend a "jap" at a dinner for Japanese American internment camp folks, well if some obaachan comes over and smack you upside the head with her walker, I think maybe you deserve it, yea?Another common argument is "its just words, it only hurts you if you let it." Partly true, yet also partly false. I believe words inherently have power - the power of language, of communication. We take that power for granted, but really it's an incredible thing. Communication is the ability to convey thoughts, feelings, and even abstract ideas from one person to another through sounds, symbols, gestures, or expressions. And this power can be used for creative or destructive purposes.Again, it comes down to the intent of the speaker. But how are we to know what that intent was? Too often among strangers, the intent of the words chosen cannot be easily determined. That's why words can often unintentionally hurt. It's common enough in spoken language, and even more common on the 'net.Others knowingly use words to hurt, then pretend that they did not mean them in such a way. We've all known our share of such folks, I'm sure. In my experience, they tend to burn through "friends" pretty fast.But intentional or not, if you've hurt someone, you should be able to take responsibility for that action. At least, that's how I feel.
Sometimes, morality is like a burden. Some choose to carry its weight willingly. Some never even realize they've been lugging it around all their lives. Some refuse to acknowledge it's existance. And some try to chuck it as far away as possible, never noticing that where ever they go, they're dragging its weight behind them on chains.
Does it hold us back? Does it make us stronger? Does it fetter our potential? Does it empower the soul?
Maybe yes. Maybe no. Depends on who you ask.
As for me, well... I kinda like this particular burden I'm carrying. I think I'll keep it around for a while. Like maybe the rest of my life. At least.
_____
Sometimes life is like when you bite yourself on the inside of your lip by accident.
The first time it hurts, but not too bad. The second time, it hurts more, and the swelling caused by the first bite really flares up. By the third time, your mouth gets all swollen up and it's painful. You don't exactly want to bite yourself again, but the swelling increases the likelihood that you're gonna chomp down on yourself again, the next time you're trying to eat something.
And eventually, you gotta go rinse your mouth out with salt water several times a day to fix the problem. Which hurts. But hey, sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do, eh?
How is that like life? Hey, I just post random thoughts, I don't try to make sense outta them.
_____
...favorite line right now, excerpt from Reaper Man* by Terry Pratchett:
SEE? I HAVE TIME. AT LAST, I HAVE TIME!
Albert backed away nervously.
"And now that you have it, what are you going to do with it?" he said.
Death mounted his horse.
I AM GOING TO SPEND IT.
Yes indeed. Go spend some time, people. Just remember: try to spend it, not waste it.
__________
* Pratchett, Terry. Reaper Man. HarperTorch, an Imprint of HarperCollins Publishing, NY, 1991
I find it ironic and somewhat painful that I give to others the advice I have so much difficulty taking myself. I always feel like a hypocrite. It doesn't make the advice any less true. Yet it also doesn't make it any less difficult to believe it myself.
I hate conflict. I hate confrontation. I'm not good at it. Can't cope with it well. I don't know what it is exactly that makes me avoid it at every opportunity. Which makes me wonder if that wasn't a factor in me moving away from home in the first place. The passive avoidance of conflict. Of confrontation. Because it's easier to deal with things when there's a bit of distance.
It hurts to see my low self esteem reflected in others close to me. I can see in my brother the same kind of self-inflicted emotional torment that I always manage to put myself through. The same feelings of worthlessness. Of contempt. Of anguish. The same fears of not being good enough. Of being a failure. Of losing at life.
Angsty? Yeah. Some of us don't outgrow it, I guess.
I'm trying to be what my brother always was for me. My cheerleader. My supporter. The one who always made me laugh when I was down. The one who always dragged me out of the shadows and into the light.
Yet at the same time, there's a little voice mocking me, deep inside. Pot and kettle, it whispers quietly, snickering with gleeful malice as it disparages my efforts. Who am I to offer any advice on self esteem? I, who have about as much sense of self worth as a dried up piece of cat turd left outside the litterbox?
I don't know. I've never known. But I'll be damned if I let my little brother throw his life away. He deserves better than a life spent believing himself an utter failure, because he's not one.
And maybe, just maybe, neither am I.
