Not too far from the truth....

Yoinked from _ladyp_



I would have used the usual HTML code, but since it doesn't seem to work with blogger, you'll just have to settle for a screeny.

If you wanna try it yourself, go here

He's been at the pixie dust...

I just spat my orange juice all over the place when I read this.

Check THIS out.

For those of you who are too lazy to check the link, let me summerise this for you.

"Robert Boyd, 45, from Broadlands in Carrickfergus, is accused of holding up staff at the Orchid shop in Belfast disguised in a wig, hat and glasses."

"He is accused of stealing two sets of bras, knickers, suspender belts and stockings from the shop on Lisburn Road on 14 December, 2005."

"He told defence counsel Anthony Cinnamond that within his small social circle he had been participating in a game known as Shadowrun.

The game was set in the future and the assumed characters were criminals, he said.

He told the court his character was a shaman, or magical elf, who carried a small Japanese sword as a weapon.

Mr Boyd, who said he visits a psychiatrist regularly, conceded that he "seemed to have blurred that line between reality and fantasy". "

I don't recall ever blurring fantasy and reality when I was playing Shadowrun, but I wish now that I had :)

Oh sweet mummy daddy button that's funny.....

Likely! He's one of Henry's men!

What an odd development.

The endless days and nights without sleep, the lack of meditation, the inability to bubble, I would have sworn it was the end of me. Yet, now it has brought on a completely unexpected side effect.

My writing.

I spent 6 hours writing yesterday. This normally would be no great change in habit, however my lack of focus has meant that lately, I've been lucky if I could concentrate on a mindless tv show for 25 minutes, much less accomplish anything remotely resembling writing.

WRRRROOONNNG!!

My brain swims with ideas. P hasn't (or perhaps has) helped things by encouraging me to write her a short story for her birthday which will (hopefully) be in the style of one Mr. Pratchett.

That coupled with my inspiration and drive to do something crazy the other night has left me aghast.

Everyone grows up hoping to do something really big, and cool. Everyone imagines themselves as being someone who could be doing something.....something! Not just worthwhile (and in some cases not even) but cool, and distinguishable from the grey and boring.

I decided the other night there, that I was going to. No more wishing, no more wondering how cool this would be, or how interesting that would be. It's time to make it happen.

Part of this dream is of course to have some success in my writing. I hope that will happen, but I won't be putting all my eggs in one basket. I plan to do shed the inhibitions and limitations, and simply go for it all.

You can't fail if you never give up. :)

When asked by a friend (in a nice way): "You reckon you can do all of it?" my response was simple.

"Likely! He's one of Henry's Men".

:)

Ok, there is definitely a problem.....

This week has been...how should I put it...hell.

As at least one person has commented, my latests posts have not sounded very happy. It's because I am not. Revelations about the apparent lack of success in my life aside, there are other things bothering me, which are, put bluntly, fucking with my Chi.

Everyday I go through a number of steps to ensure I am a calm, controlled and focussed person. This routine is responsible for my change in character, my ability to control my emotions about those things going on around me, and my resolve towards my loved ones.

Now, here comes the problem. I can't do it now. Confused? Yeah, I thought so - let me explain.

Somehow, this past week has been more emotionally straining than any recently. And somehow, that stress is messing with my ability to focus. I can't meditate. I can't bubble*, I can't focus and my dreams are worse than they have ever been before.

It's making me nuts. I feel like a raging neurotic, incapable of maintaining any kind of mood, and incapable of making rational decisions.

I think, as far as others noticing, its only appeared as mild so far, however internally, it's ripping me apart. I am only just capable of holding things together, and whilst I am not dependent on this daily ritual, it's absence presses me more and more every day.

I think I am going to go mad.

B

*Bubble: A method "sensitive" people use to block out stray and powerful emotions they pick up from others (yeah yeah I know, some of you won't believe in it).

Digital Decorating pt4

A good bit of work done on the old blog today.

Managed to distract myself from my foul mood by working away on here. Nice to see I have gotten somewhere.

Nice new and fresh banner, which I am relatively pleased with, and some additional graphics.

Some of the graphics are a little scratchy, but I was in no mood to work too feverishly on them today. Nothing is linked as yet, and there are still more cast members to be entered (as soon as I can secure photos (watch out y'all!)), not to mention my piss poor quote.

Is my inability to think of an amusing personal quote down to my, until now, unrecognised lack of a sense of humour?? Someone help me!!

Answers on a postcard peeps.

Introspection..

I am always wary when I feel like this. I have always been an emotional person, anyone who knows me will know this all too well. It tends to be those emotions which lead me to write this down.

Is it a plea for help from the darkness of a sad mind? No, I don't think so. I don't write it here in the hope that someone might pop along and massage my wounds with a kind word. I put it here so that it might forever remind me of the mistakes I have made.

During different periods of my life I have done different things with those emotions.

When I was young I turned them into anger and hate. That path is a dangerous one, and at some point down the line, no matter who you are, you'll crash. I did.

Then I learned to show my emotions, and be open about them. It led me to one of the people who, until I die, will always hold a special place in my heart. But, eventually, I destroyed that relationship, by being foolish, and letting small things snowball until I was no longer a viable option.

That led me to one of the darkest periods of my life (which for anyone who really knows me would know to be a fairly daunting prospect) with only the odd few lights throughout.

Eventually I got here, and whilst I am more in control, more steady, cleaner and stronger in spirit, I still harbour regrets.

I look upon my life and wonder how I could have made it better. I have left a trail of destruction in my wake in my short time on this planet. My past turns to ash and dust, and engulfs anyone who accompanied me along the way. It's a tough realisation, but one which, rightly so, had to come to light.

I never really committed to anything in my life fully. I was always in it for the quick win; I always had something better, less productive, less successful to do and achieve. In every element of my life, I could have done better. I was capable, but I lacked motivation. I was big on the talk, and lacking in the action.

As a result, I now see my life as a series of wasted opportunities, ruined moments, and coal-coloured remnants which can never be repaired, or even returned to a portion of their former glory.

It is days like this, I take a good long hard look at myself, and what I have achieved and realise that I don't really like what I see. It is days like this, that no matter what philospohical nonsense I manage to spout, no matter what I tell myself to feel better about, it makes no difference. I have nothing to show for my efforts, limited as they may be.

I pushed anyone and everyone who ever loved me, and I ever loved, away. Through fear; Through stupidity; Through selfishness.

Dramatic? Not really. Self deprecatory? Perhaps. Honest with self? Certainly.

And not before time.

Isn't that sad.