I lived in this small town that was very pretentious.  On the surface it looked the very picturesque meaning of quaint.  An outsider standing in the middle of the downtown area could easily believe that this was a place that could feel like home.  Every one was part of your extended family.  A place of peace and acceptance.  A place that made you feel like you had a big fluffy blanket wrapped around while you were sipping hot cocoa on a cold stormy late Autumn evening.  Of course that was what they wanted outsiders to think.  It was a tourist trap.  But as soon as the tourists went home from their little mini vacation a completely different atmosphere appeared.  And the true town’s personality emerged.  The people were not so well adjusted, nor excepting.  I always saw the town as a form of Broadway stage during tourist season.  When the lights went down and everybody went home – the makeup and costumes came off.

Then late at night the circus freaks emerged. Mostly during their beloved Halloween season.  October was their time to show their true form and come out and play.  The city officials and those who ran the town hated them.  Hated their existence.  They thought it was a blight on their perfect little town.  This little group of circus freaks were twistedly talented volunteers of the local haunted school house.  And I was one of them.  A proud member in fact.  I cherished my part in smearing the towns perfect little exterior.  All of us at the haunted house did, I think.  The town wanted to hide it’s imperfections.  Shoving them in the basements under lock and key.  October was the only time we could escape and show our deformed faces and non compliant revolutions.  It was mostly innocent of course.  We never really did any visual damage.  We were hooligans but we were not criminals.  This was my first true realization of home.  My first place of refuge.  Empowering, we were all royalty there.  Not the vagabonds the town branded us as.  Plus there still is nothing like scaring the pants off a guy twice my size.

I then lost it.  You can’t stay in one place forever though.  You must move forward on your path wherever it may take you.

I didn’t find another home until a few years later.  And oddly enough it took its form as a MMORPG.  It’s insane but in a lot of ways it filled the gap in my life that the haunted house made when I departed from it.  Once again I was able to be a more projected version of the things I wanted to be and liked in myself.  I put on the skin of a Twi’lek and played my grandest role yet.  That of a little blue Tyrenanian Twi named Xie ‘lanthia.  In actuality I found it terribly easier to be comfortable with being me under the guise of lighthearted silliness of a cantina than those of your everyday “real life” scenarios.  With SWG I found true social happiness.

The truth be, I am a bit of a social reject.  A self proclaimed hermit.  Even my husband scorns my antisocial tendencies at times.  He has dubbed me socially challenged and he is most definitely correct in his view of me.  In some ways it is something that is beyond my control but mostly I find contentment and even a bit of honor at being a mob of one.  It fits me.  I do love socializing with people once you get through the BS but unfortunately I found that a large majority of people are entirely made up of BS.  I actually should rephrase that.  I hate people.  I love persons.  The easiest way to get rid of me is to play at one of the mindless drones.  It does it every time.

By now as you can guess, SWG is gone for me also.  The truth being the game changed way to much and that caused a different type of people to become attracted to the game.  Sadly, it also chased away the type of “persons” that helped make me fall in love with SWG, so eventually I left also.  WoW, EQII, and all the other MMOs fall tragically short of the splendid social sandbox that was once SWG.  So, in a moment of weakness I very seriously think about renewing my subscription to SWG, even though I know full and well that the fix I am longing for I will never get again there.

I never was one for a mass display of intoxicated gluttony.  It is true though that I have been involved in my fair share of them.  One of them was a SciFi-Fantasy convention my friends affectionately dubbed the annual drunkin’ orgy fest.  I took part in the drunkin’ portion of the fest for four years in a row.  Two of those pivoting moments, where joy and pain became one happened here.  This is the reason they are so beautifully precious to me.

The fucking worst thing about remembering these moments is that in part because of them, I realize that I have shut out, closed down any possibility for any future memories to be made and cherished.  I have built up a wall around me preventing anyone from touching me, connecting with me.  This is my own personal purgatory and I lay in the bed that I have made.

Earlier I posted “I think I just killed my N810″. Creeva came and rescued me from my ineptness and offer up the suggestion that I remove the battery. Yeah you guessed it. It was that simple.

Well, at the cost of a little bit of pride at least I learned something. When confronted with a problem it is more often than not, a simple solution. I guess this is proof of how I tend to over complicate the situation.   /sigh

Since I don’t know how to be anything but honest. I find I am having a hard time coming up with the inspiration required for me to write. That is one of the main reasons to start a blog. I need to get back into the routine of writing regularly. Pen and paper journaling just doesn’t do anything for me anymore. With a paper journal I have no audience except myself and that makes me care less for structure and proper wordage. Ever since a few years ago, I was angry with myself and my writing ability, I haven’t been able to write anything with substance since. That night I took everything I had ever written and threw it into the fire. A huge mistake. Something I’ll be kicking myself for the rest of my life. All that blood, sweat and tears I poured out on paper is gone, it’s existence snapped out of memory, forever.

It shouldn’t have mattered that I was a far cry from Shakespeare. I am not sure Shakespeare was enough of a Shakespeare for Shakespeare(if that makes any sense) as it is under speculation on how many of his works were actually written by his hand.

Part of me is struggling with the whole self worth issue. When an idea sparks in my head with a possible subject to write about I clam up and the bully in my head ridicules me for even thinking I might have something of value to write about. I know that if I adhere to this long enough I have a chance at retraining the way I think and in turn will eventually silence that bully once and for all.

You see I am what they call a Constitutionalist or least that is what I consider myself to be. The second amendment is very near and dear to me. For me it is the very essence of freedom. So I pretty much shrugged off the idea of blogging and sharing my thoughts, feelings – my life, as “not for someone like me”.

Until one day something clicked. It was one of those days where I was ranting and raving at some new horror I had just discovered that existed in MY world. I felt helpless. Like I had no voice. I felt as if could scream and scream until there was no more breath in me and not a sound would part from my lips. It is quite a little nightmare of mine. Anyway, I was once again feeling like I was in the minority with my seemingly unpatriotic views. I realized that no matter how I personally rebelled against the injustices of the world. No matter how long I stood ranting and raving in my living room, it wasn’t constructive. It wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t doing me any good. Except for an unhealthy spike of my blood pressure. That’s when it dawned on me that by not taking full advantage of the technology that is available to me today, I was in a way, denying myself my first amendment rights. That and I was running out of excuses to tell Creeva why I couldn’t give it a try.

So my hopes is that by channeling some of my anger, fears and joys into this little space and time, I can flush out ideas, opinions and evolve as a person. And maybe… just maybe… one day I’ll actually get up the nerve to share some of these pages with all of you.