Saturday, November 21, 2009


The other night, I cried for a reason that you'll laugh at.

I feel the need to explain. which of course, may make you giggle. BUt I feel it's necessary anyway.

I have a very good friend, a gentleman and a musician. He's a little socially awkward, of course, but he makes up for it with the generous application of kind encouragement and the occasional witty remark. And can he play the pipes! He picks up a wind instrument and the air itself seems to resound with the song. If you are sad, his song can make you happy again. If you are anxious, his songs could soothe you. He's been around for really quite a long time. Currently - he has green hair, is in pretty good shape - especially considering that he'd recently recovred from a pretty bad accident.

He has this ... girlfriend. I will be the first to admit that she scares me. She's strong, independent, and she doesn't take shit from anyone. But as soon as you make that connection with her on a deeper, trusting level, she would die for you. No joke, her loyalties are that fierce. So when I say that she told my friend she loved him - I'll be the first to say "HELL yeah I believe it."

Something happened recently. Well, thats not entirely true. Things have BEEN happening. That accident I told about? That he was recovering from? It was really bad. We didn't think he was going to make it. And whats worse? SHE was there too. He'd taken the big hit to save her life, just like he always hoped she'd do for him, ya know? So whem I say that HE loves her more then life itself - you know I'm not kidding.

Before that, his brother went missing and then seriously tried to kill him. I am not bullshitting you here, The little shit tried (On TWO seperate occasions, did I mention that?) to KILL him. We all think he's stark raving mad. You know what we learned after that incident? The little shit had actually killed their YOUNGER brother in his youth. I'm talking serious mental issues. They sent him away after that and hadn't seen him for years. I don't know what happened to get him out, it's none of my business.

But thats all in the past. He continued to play his music, and we all loved it. He told some great stories (what an imagination he has, larger then life, that one) and cracked some jokes. And he's a good friend of mine, sure - but he has only ONE Best Friend. It's not his girlfriend- she's in a league of her own. It's not me - I'm a good friend, but not that good. He's seen his best friend grow up from this tortured youth figure from a broken home, to starting a family of his own. Hell, he was even the guy's best man. His best friend had been there when his brother tried to take him out. Couldn't bear the sight of him after the accident, but returned just in time for him to wake up.

Now my friend just got the biggest fall of them all. I could see it in his eyes, like he was just breaking in half. Tore my heart out. somehow - don't ask me, he's just got lots of friends I guess - he discovered that his girl, his one treasure, his golden idol, his truest love.... had well... you know... with someone else.

Someone his Brother used to hang around with. Someone who was just as twisted as him. They'd been 'sent away' together. They remained friends throughout their warping of selves. I wouldn't doubt it if this asshole had convinced my friend's brother to go off and try to kill him. I'm telling you, this guy was a total sociopath. I mean IS. Yes, he's still out there. And my friend's girl got tricked into it. Got real hurt too - but somehow...

It's hard to explain. My friend is a good person - you know it just to look at him, hear him play his music. He's got a good heart, and a big one too. But sometimes, good people... are too good. And things boil up inside them, pressure builds inside them, anger mounts, tension stretches - until one day it just snaps. It happens to the best of us - and, well, my friend was definately one of the best of us. And this time - it happened to him.

He stormed out of there so fast, and I could already see his eyes clouding over. And his best friend was there - like best friends are apt to be - and something happened. My friend was so angry he could barely see straight. I barely remember what happened - but the next thing I know, he's there, kneeling on the ground with his best friend's blood on his hands. And the look in his eyes, the absolute horror, the transformation of a whole person into a ghost just happened. Right before my eyes. I saw it.

I saw him crumble into a figment, a shadow of himself. I saw him run into the darkened streets, leaving what was left of the good things in his life behind. What was I supposed to do? I can't change his fate. This was chosen. None of this had to happen. I didn't have to see his shaking hands as they dug into the wet spot on the earth, where his best friend had bled out and died. I didn't HAVE to see his eyes close and extinguish the brightness in them.

he had been so much. He had meant so much. And I saw him destroyed. I stood there and watched, with hands tied but extended in a helpless gesture of support.

And so I cried the other night.

His name is Navvy. And I made him up.

Infinite Characterization - Infinite Attachment - Infinite Heartbreak.


Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Point of Pride

My 'infinite characterization' is not just about my own personal growth of character. Granted, part of it is based on the theory that no person every stays the same, that they are constantly changing and developing. Of course, this silly little blog was a little idea to map out the progress of many things relating to me. My writing style (If I have one), my own personal development, the dynamics that grow and die between myself and others... Even little things like the development of my employment.

You know. Crap like that.

But there's something else about me that I feel bound to point out. A minor little detail that colors my life in infinite rainbow prisms. I call it my own personal CPU: Character Processing Unit. As in literally - creating a character out of thin air, twisting the clay to form arms and legs - maybe a limp - christening it with a name and puffing air into it's cheeks.

Go ahead, call me a nerd. I don't mind. I may as well wear a badge. But I admit freely that when I step into the mind of another person (Or persons) for the sake of telling a story - and of course, rolling a few die every now and again - I enjoy it. A lot. it is the epitome of escapism, daydreaming made 'real' and not only that, but there are others there to enjoy it with you.

When a friend of mine writes me a post card from Turkey and says on it that a particular place reminded her of a fantasy world I made up - well, it was... divine. I feel no greater hapiness then when those I share my worlds with, my characters, my creatures, magics and far off places with, actually come to ME to do more. Actually tell ME about times they thought of my made-up heroes. Confess to ME about how they made a playlist, or a drawing, or a poem about the Dragon Brethren, or the Blue-haired MaelKai Princess, or the Anxious First Mate who's pretty much resigned himself to the excentricities of his Captain and his chosen compatriots.

And I declare, with a full heart, that I feel wonderful.

Thank you, fellow die-rollers, character creators, Improvisational masters, and role players.

You have completed my life. :)