In one of my dreams last night, I was helping move chairs with someone I used to spend a lot of time with. I was going quick and carefully tossing the chairs near her. At one point she freaked out about how I was moving the chairs. I tell her to relax, it’s not like I’ve hit her yet, and I laugh. She stays stern, gives me an angry look and goes silent.
She’d been like this with me since I’d met up with her again. We hadn’t seen each other in a long time. So I asked her what the problem was. I said we used to be friendly with each other. She scoffed and told me we weren’t friends. She told me she was constantly doing stuff for me and giving, and I wasn’t.
I immediately turned defensive, confused, and sad. I asked her why she never said anything at the time. I didn’t realize that was how she felt or that things might have been that way. She told me she shouldn’t have to tell me things like that. I should have just known to give back equally.
I told her I obviously thought I did at the time. Friends are supposed to feel like they can talk to each other if things aren’t right. She told me again we weren’t friends.
If only all dreams could be so depressingly meaningful.
Next time you’re wondering whether or not to say something because you don’t want to make a big deal about it, consider that you might be making a big deal about it anyways. I think not saying something can fester and ruin relationships more than saying something. Your feelings can fester and surely will effect how you interact with that person. Before you know it, maybe you resent them so much that their obliviousness is no excuse.
The dream is right about one thing, if you can’t talk to me about how you feel, then we aren’t actually friends. I really would like to think the people I keep close will let me know what they’re thinking and feeling, even if it’s not something that’s pleasant to hear. I would like to think they’d let me know before the friendship was over.
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The Seize
- Phone Phonetics August 23, 2010 - 1:26 pm
“Is that ‘T’ as in ‘Tom?’” “No it’s ‘P’ as in… ‘Phone’.” “…” - Rest August 10, 2010 - 3:48 pm
When I stop, time when the dust settles streaming through the sunbeam, is when I can’t hold my hopes up any longer. Rest. All I need is rest. When the chase ends, when the sweat settles on skin, I feel cold, icy burning to run again. When I’m wor. […] - Last Bliss August 8, 2010 - 10:36 am
Bliss dressed for eternity take off your mask. Let me see what never lasts. Lying in wait is the weight of age. The story of things past take center stage. I bow at the curtain, eyes down in regret For the encore I’ll try to forget. Everything in i. […]
Life: the waking dream that hazes between points of rest. Each moment is taking place in an external world that my inner world just made up based on that same external world made up by everyones’ own inner world. I dream so vivid that times asleep become more real than the day to day.
I keep searching for truth and on the way I often fancy the notion I’ve found some. We make our own truth and it only becomes more and more apparent as we trust what our senses tell us. Our senses hear what others chose to feed us. Even as we accept it as reality, we know that deep down we’re victims of everyone’s filter, especially our own. We experience a reflection of a reflection spiraling off into eternity, so we may as well be blind.
I’m bound to this world the same as everyone else. Sometimes I get notions of how really lost and alone we all are as a whole who shares the same wants. Humanity, the race of contradictions, struggles to see behind the masks of one another. When I look at you, I try to see past our posturing and learned responses.
Connection crosses us so easily and is severed with the slightest touch. As we’re all seeking it as savagely as we pull away from one another, it’s a wonder we survive.
I’d tried to bring it up before, but the conversation was again derailed- subject changed, glossed over, left for another day. I didn’t push. I was careful not to push.
Why did I think I had to last night?
It was late and we both needed to work in the morning, but it has been on my mind. I was afraid of the answer and the changes it could bring to this undefined, open-ended us I’ve grown fond of. Things between us have been light, fun, and tender. To lose what I’ve gained in the name of searching for something more, that might not even exist, seemed illogical.
And yet, it had been on my mind.
I dared hope things were going in a particular direction: upwards and closer. I’m a patient person. I thought it was only a matter of time. The hope was starting to approach expect, and I felt like I needed to bring it up or reign in my own thoughts.
I knew I might be the only one of two that thought this was going somewhere.
I was restless. He could see there was something on my mind. I don’t know how to hide things and lie, and I don’t want to.
So I ask if he thinks we’ll ever date exclusively, if he thinks this is going somewhere.
After a brief dance around the subject he comes clean. At some point there was the possibility, but at some point recently he also realized it was likely never going to happen for us.
So maybe at the exact moment where my mind dared hope, where romantic notions took root, he was having a revelation that we would reach a place, or have reached a place, an plateau out. It’s not a bad place to be, but it’s not going higher. We’re special, but not special enough, close, and yet still a million miles apart.
I’m reminding myself that not everyone I date is going to even approach the possibility of being someone I will be with for a long time. Not every person I feel for will settle in a deep place and stay.
He feels guilty for not telling me when he realized. He knew that I was headed in the opposite direction as him- where I started to hope, he started to realize. I feel a little betrayed. Why do I have to be the honest, courageous one and bring up the difficult topics?
It’s not a big betrayal, and he was honest when I asked him point blank, but it still hurts. And he disappointed himself and me and he knows it. It’s the first sad moment since we’ve been dating. I remember every reason I felt great to be free of this exercise in attempting this level human connection. If the results always equal less than, why do I keep trying the same equation? I think I’ll get bigger numbers to add up to something substantial.
I asked him why he dates people. He never gave me a real answer, instead he asked me. I told him I didn’t know. Then I told him I was looking for a real fucking connection: with understanding, yet learning and wonder, and once that connection was there, caring, and with that, ultimately, a companion. I’m not so naive that I don’t know most, if not all of these connections will be temporary, but I still sometimes want to settle for a little while in that comfortable place where there is someone.
He admitted he didn’t want to exclusively date anyone anytime soon.
I asked him why and he said he needed to improve himself first- to get to a place where he was settled and happy with who he was. I laughed and told him I hoped he never was, because it would a sad day that he thought he was beyond improvement. We’re young and unsure in life right now and he thinks there is a magic switch somewhere that is going to turn on adulthood and allow him to settle into someone and something closer to perfection.
I tried to get every ounce of hurt out of my system. I tried to let it move through me and out of me and not burrow its way into a hole where it could stay and fester. After it settled I tried to answer the question of ‘What now?’.
I knew he was looking at me waiting for that answer. He told me his sister went through something similar recently- wanted more from a guy and he didn’t have more to give. She broke up with the guy. It seemed like he was trying to give me an easy, natural progression to end it if wanted to.
He thought it was over for a moment, that he’d messed up. I looked at him and couldn’t be angry; he’s under my skin still. If things can’t move to a new height, I’m still not ready to come down quite yet. I’m glad to know where I stand, at least I have that. I let him know that at some point, I wouldn’t be able to wait. At some point I’d have to finish moving on, as we’re not going anywhere.
But in this moment, for right now, we’re going to keep having fun. I warned him though, we need to stay honest or we’re going to ruin trust between us and both be hurt. Honesty isn’t just about lying, it’s about disclosing expectations and revelations. You can’t knowingly let the other person living in a place of false hope or ideas.
He knew I thought this was going further and he knew it wasn’t. Even if it was a recent revelation, he should have told me. He didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want to hurt or ruin what we had. He was scared.
Did he know how scared as I was, trusting and knowing this might happen? You lend a part of yourself when you trust and it’s up to that person to take care with that. I’ve always been good at doing that for other people, but I have never picked the right person to give my own. And now that he has it, I plead with him to not approach this place again. I need to be able to expect the truth.
I’m going to try not to make more of it than it is. I’m fast to forgive and I hope faith isn’t misplaced.
I feel like I have shut him out a small bit for my own sanity, while also feeling him thrust closer. I’m throwing up an arm to his throat and not letting him pass my guard. A comparison to jiu-jitsu is appropriate as we participate in this dangerous sport, both looking to improve, to find a better position, and having a ton of fun doing it.
There’s also a hint of desperation, like we know our days together are numbered and some day, maybe sooner than one or both of us would like, this will dissolve. And what will be left then? Will we speak with each other? Look each other in the eye?
Usually when these things are done, they’re done with only memories remaining and an unlucky bit of bitterness. Maybe this time, I hope this time, we can skip the chapter of hurt, betrayal, and unnecessary drama and have a fine farewell at the end. Dare I hope for a lasting, meaningful friendship?
In the meantime, we still have this. Togther we will train jiu-jitsu, eat sushi, cook, dine, party, visit the aquarium and tour the chocolate factory, talk about inane topics and subtle psychology, exchange strategies for our careers, share insights and passions, play and banter, geek out, and make as many fond memories as we’re able.
I’m a bit sad, but I’m also relieved at a bit of added definition. These thoughts have been aired out so I can move past them. I don’t know where I’m going, but now I do know that in the end he’s ultimately not coming with me.
Yes, I think about them: the caveats, pitfalls, and fears I’ve followed down the hole before. Hindsight is so much better. With it I can see the course that will lead me away from falling, but if I fail to do anything now then I miss the chance to move forward. Hindsight is only so useful.
Would I know that I was moving backwards until it was too late? I don’t know that I have a sense of my momentum, but I think that I’m moving forward. I feel wind passing by me, the air crisp, and my head clear.
Being with someone again has been great, but I am a little bit leery of this limbo that I stop and see myself in sometimes. Freeze frame, I worry and wonder if I am making the same mistakes, falling into old patterns. I have no evidence, by I am constantly, acutely aware of the past.
I’m also not used to ’seeing’ people. The way it has always been for me: either I’m in a relationship or I’m not. I don’t know if I’m entirely comfortable here, but I also know that the self-improvement thing is about taking risks, going outside of your comfort zone, and goddamn trying. Everything tells me this is a healthy thing, to force me to learn not to rush into things.
I don’t ever want to get stuck and hung up on a person to the point of potentially losing myself. I’ve done it before. It’s been a long time since I’ve even approached a relationship, it’s been a long time since this has happened, but I’m always aware it has. As much as I’ve grown, that person who made those mistakes in the past was me, and I have to work not to make any repeat performances.
But this is already so different, will I really repeat myself that considered? What happens if I get hung up anyways in spite of myself?
At first he scared me, and now I scare me. That’s a pattern I know and I’m scrubbing it with steel wool, but who knows if the stain will come out. Why am I scared- because I like him. I like him a lot.
I’m not saying I want to be with someone I don’t like, but I’m very scared of liking someone too much. I’m afraid that one day I’m going to be used to being with him, and he suddenly will have moved on to someone else. Irrationally, I think that labeling our relationship differently (going from seeing each other to full blown relationship) will allay these fears and make them an impossibility. I know that is stupid.
So if I call this something different, is that supposed to make my hold on him tighter?
And why would I want it to be tighter? It would be tighter around me too. I like not feeling too relied on, or relying too much. It’s so much more healthy than what I’m used to. My sense of self is strong and I am on my two feet relying on just that. He is also strong, not leaning on me in any way, threatening to take me down wherever he may go.
Is this simple jealousy maybe? I don’t like the idea of him potentially seeing other people, but I constantly remind myself of the idea… not to torture myself, but to stay used to the idea. I might still want him around and he might be gone (or with someone else). That will hurt regardless, but it will hurt more if I believe it can’t happen.
Is it the idea of him being with someone else, or is it him not being with me? The fact that I’m okay with the situation tells me it’s the latter. I don’t want another girl he’s seeing to take him away from me. I don’t want to lose what I have gained.
What I need to realize that what I have gained are experiences of being with him in a positive way. People go away. I hate those facts, fickle natures and the that things end. But, they do end. People move on, including me.
I keep telling myself so I stay used to the idea of him not being around. Maybe that’s pessimistic, but pinching myself is allowing me not to get lost in a romantic dream.
I am likely making an illusion of control. He makes me happy, and to have a degree of happiness taken away, one needs to find new happiness all over again or get used to it being gone. It’s not always easy to find again. Absence can be felt strongly regardless if you were told it would come.
I hate relying on others. People suck. I hate trusting.
And that’s what it boils down to- I trust him and I don’t want to trust anyone but me. I know I’m trustworthy. I always pull through in the end.
Maybe the answer is to see even more guys, but I’m not exactly interested. Oh, sure, there are guys I flirt with, impossible people who would never put forward a foot to walk along side me. I honestly wasn’t looking to see him when it happened; he fell out of the sky.
Maybe I’m a misanthrope, because when I seriously consider the idea all I can think about is how disgusting men are (women too in all fairness, people in general, but I’m not romantically involved with women, so I say men). I could pick up guys, but I don’t actually want them. Would most men respect me for me or just want to get me in bed? I like sex as much as the next person, but I am the type of person that doesn’t need it from other people. The things I seek: actual care and respect, these things are much harder to find.
So, where the hell did he come from and how did I let him in? I’m still just asking that basic question. I wasn’t looking, but there he was. I want to hold on tight, and I want to run away. This is scary stuff.
So here I am, trying to take slow the speeding train that time and time again is how my head handles things. Slow down. Smell the flowers. Keep your base so you don’t get swept off your feet.
I am learning, even if it is at my own pace. And even with those worries below the surface, I can still make out my face staring resolutely towards my goals. I am more than okay, and this is way more that okay. It’s just my nature to worry, analyze, question, and try to anticipate any chance of a wrong foot forward. I should try not to focus on it. If I do, I might accidentally allow it to stifle the steps I take towards something new and wonderful.
Here’s to something new and wonderful- and stop worrying about it already! Life happens, and will continue regardless. Change is scary. Have the courage to face forward!

I come up with ideas for writing in a lot of different places. This is something that was kicking in my head from a dream that I expanded on in waking times, in the shower, driving to work, falling asleep. At some point sometimes ideas stop kicking around in the head and I try to put what I’m thinking on paper. Sometimes I start writing the story, and other times I write character sketches, draw places, write scenes, or in this case: figure out mechanics.
One of the most fun things about the Sci-fi and Fantasy genre is the mechanics of how your world works. What makes it full of magic? What are the systems, schools, and conventions by which normal people become adventurers?
In this case I had the idea of four of each type of three categories of adventurers. Where (and if) you fall on this grid is determined by an extensive and even dangerous test, kind of like some sort of spirit journey. By the end of that journey it has been divined what school(s) you fall into.

Here are some of the sketches I did in my Blue Book (on of my journal sketchbooks) to help me figure out this grid. I figured each school next to each other should have abilities in common as well as each school having its own unique focus. There are 3 main schools: Warrior, Wizard, and Toil. Warrior covers the types of fighters. Wizards are the ones who harness magic. Toils are those who use worldly skills to make something otherworldly. If you read the charts the other way, You get the four worlds: Physical World, Natural World, Inner World, and Spiritual World.
To help figure these out, I thought of people I knew and what they might be based on the system I figured out.
Each particular class has a name and color. Each also has one main focus, and four minor focuses (or abilities) that are shared with the surrounding major focuses. Primes are those who only have a single class and those four surrounding abilities. They also usually have a special ability unique to having a strict focus. These abilities vary from person to person and sometimes are not immediately apparent. Most of the time, it s found out by the time a disciple has left their school.

I also left room for mixing classes across the grid: dual, tri, and quad classes. The further divided you are in your classes, the further split your focus.
A dual class gets two main focuses, but only a total of four surrounding abilities. Those four surrounding abilities have to be two from each focus and must be either horizontal or vertical.

A Tri class is also known as a Worlder as they pick a world. They get three focuses, and only the shared abilities from their world (those listed vertical). This gives them three main focuses and three abilities.
A quad class is usually known by the larger class name: Quad Warrior, Quad Wizard, or Quad Toil. They have those four focuses going across, and then the abilities between each. Since the classes have more abilities, it is usually found by the time a disciple graduates that they are weak in a couple of the abilities or lose a couple of the focuses. Those who keep their focuses remain Quads, as the abilities that are weak can be improved upon over time. However, if a focus is lost, the Quad usually will become a Prime or Dual. This is not considered a bad thing or a dishonor to have a more narrowed focus or a more broadened one, it is simply the way things naturally occur in a particular person.
This morning, on my way to do ‘the mail run’ before work, I almost hit a bird in the road. The thing that was odd about this was not that it was an animal in the wrong place at the wrong time, or that it was me in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The weird thing was the location: East Hartford Ave. Uxbridge, MA
Matched with the type of bird: peacock.
I knew it was the beginning to another odd day. I knew this not because I am a reader of omens and portents. I knew this because life has become an interesting and unexpected thing.
By now I should expect the unexpected. I have a job where just when you think there is some sort of routine, something new and different that you’ve never seen comes across your plate and stares at you with beady little eyes. Add this to the rest of my life. I have weird, vivid, often horrifying dreams. Coincidences and dejavu are constant. Is it more strange to feel like whats happening has happened before, or that both Ezra and I met after not seeing each other since February (and years before that meeting) both wearing Metallica shirts and admitting we weren’t ‘really big Metallica fans or anything’.
I wonder about writing fiction sometimes and the length people go to make it seem realistic. With the odd occurrences that happen on a day to day it occurs to me that we wouldn’t know what realism was anyways. Reality often feels surreal, and truth really is stranger than fiction.
Last night I dreamt about telling someone at work that I just had a dream about them, since in the dream I dreamt having that dream.
I also dreamt I was a super-long pole arm bearer for some feudal post-apocalyptic oriental army. I was captured by the enemy feudal lord when he tricked me into thinking I was close to defeating him. It was simply a ruse to get me away from the rest of the army and capture me. When I tried to escape, no matter how far and fast I went, there was a large-as-a-house warrior waiting to bring me back to my prison. There was nothing to do at this prison but sleep and play strange card games I was bad at.
I can only spend so much time on the epic stores my subconscious undertakes. Life is constantly weaving a strange tale of its own. Instead, I spend my time dodging peacocks.

