Too many directions

There is too much to write about

There is the psychology of a Crush

There are books I have read

There are movies that I have watched

There are conversations that I have had that have opened my mind

There are breakthroughs in my behaviours

There are personal stuffs that I don't want to share with all people, but I will, because starting a new blog would be like abandoning what I have already written.  And it would be like saying that me sharing MagicEyes and MPTR with the world was okay but not sharing my life with them was not.

Then there is MPTR, who has a blog, and we have patched things up better, which means we understand each other and we will never be together again, but we might talk.  

There is the realization that I am still in love with MagicEyes, even though we never kissed, not even once.  The realization that I still love MPTR too, and India, not to mention Seven.  The realization that MagicEyes still cares about me and is very casually creeping my doings.  Seven cares about me too, her first phone call after gaining a cell phone was to me.  India, I don't know, I willingly gave her up in January of  1998 and have not heard from her since, what is that, 16 and a half years ago.  Which is a coincidence because FlyGirl is 16 years younger than I am and she is the newest chapter in my heart.  There is Poly, who I want to love, because she is such a close match intellectually, who should be a shoe in for my heart, but whom I have too little context with to develop a relationship.  FlyGirl, maybe SuperGirl, not sure, both names fit, she is really special too.

There is just to much to talk about that I don't know where to start.  Perhaps tomorrow I will spend some time writing and you will learn more.

Fighting your dragons

My difficulty with roleplaying comes down to identity.  By my problem, I mean my problem on how I play my characters, not with the games as a whole.  I get a character and I write an amazing back story that I want to play, but when it comes down to playing it, the character becomes personal and the lines begin to blur between the paper character and and my own character that I have been building twenty-four hours a day for decades.  The character stops being that neat concept and becomes me.  It stops being heroic and becomes meek and me.  

It is not all negative.  If you want to know who I am, watch me role-play.  I am always good.  Good meaning not the thing that people mostly mean when they say good, but actually good meaning the person everyone wishes they could be in front of their mother.  The kind of person who gives to charity and jumps before a hail of bullets without looking who they are going to hit, good.  The role-playing experience means that when I do it very well with very few negative consequences.  But I also fail to be the heroic character that I wrote too.  To throw the die and to accept the fate and lead people through performing feats beyond imagining.  This I fail at, I become meek and afraid, as I would, at the option of throwing fate to the wind and leaping off the cliff to save the falling damsel and worry about saving myself after I have the damsel safer in my own hands.

To be heroic is to exceed the expectations of our mortal minds and do things extraordinary.  It is not just to be good, it is to be good and do it very well at the same time.  Mostly, roleplaying lets you you become the person that you can't be in real life.  It lets you be the astronaut  that is facing a life or death situation and find the solution at hand, to be the hero, rescue the princess, save the World.  But if you are on your way to save the world and you start being yourself, you fail; leaping off the precipice to catch the falling damsel, catapulting yourself off the parapets (with a catapult at the marauding dragon, becomes impossible.

My failing is this.

Emotionally compromised

There is this thing that people do when they get drunk.  They call their EX at three in the morning.  

There is this thing I do when I get depressed.  I text or email my depression to the person I have crush on.  Before cellphones it was worse, I would write long depressing emails where I would promise to kill myself, but it was only ever written to the person who I loved and never told.  

I can't kill myself though, there is a three year old who loves me and whom I cannot disappoint ever.  

I deleted my crush's phone number and deleted the conversation.  I CAN'T let it evolve further.  Unless she wants it so, but she doesn't, so I will let her know, the next time I see her —No that never works they way I envision it.  I just have to stop.