Petrina (Day 298)

Terakiel could hardly believe it, but the trees that had so thoroughly enveloped him on all sides for days now were slowly beginning to thin out. The mist had ll but disappeared and the temperature had risen considerably. The thick grass he'd been trudging through for so long was beginning to lessen in volume as well. Now that he was making progress, he felt considerably less aimless and more motivate to press on than ever before. He could only hope that Casnie and Aisen had somehow found their way out as well. Regardless of what happened, he had to find a way to get them home. He was their responsibility. It was his fault thy were brought to that place.

He didn't want to think about never finding them. He realized the odds were stacked against him, but he would find them. He would. There was something about Lakara that had distorted perspective. It's possible it covered a much smaller area than any of them had imagined. It could conceivably be possible that his newfound traveling companions were waiting for him just on the Lakaran outskirts. Then again, they had no reason to be loyal to him, Terakiel reasoned. They'd not known each other for very long, and they only shared a common plight--a plight which Terakiel himself was technically responsible for.

As little as he wished to admit it, he'd been immensely relieved to have the companionship of those two, even for as little as he'd had it. He had been struggling with the immense guilt associated with what he'd done to his father alone for such a long time.Being in the company of others helped him to stifle those memories and concentrate on other things. They didn't need to know the details, but the very fact they were there and were willing to support him was enough to make him feel better. He hoped they didn't hold his accidental summons against him. It was completely out of his control--or at least he'd like to think so.

Terakiel had thought killing his father had been outside his control as well, but the more he searched his thoughts and emotions, the more he realized it was what he really wanted to do. He hated to think about it, but if he were to be completely honest with himself it was true. His father was a terrible man--that much was true--but no one deserved that kind of death and it wasn't his right to dole out justice in that way. If he'd been a braver man, he would have submitted himself to the Tombolin Justice Council's judgment. He would not have been able to explain how he'd done what he did--but he'd be able to explain why and to confess his guilt. His punishment would have been swift and severe, but no less than what he deserved.

It was too late for any of that now. Tombolin was countless miles behind him and there was little chance he'd be able to find it ever again, considering the obfuscating nature of Lakara. Just as the enigmatic forest had fought so valiantly to prevent its escape, he imagined it would prove just as much of a menace upon entry. He had to wonder if the machinations of Lakara were constructed by men. After all he'd witnessed over the past week, he wouldn't hesitate to believe it. It seemed reasonable to assume that someone (or a large group of someones) had wanted to ensure that no one made it into (or out of) Lakara. 

Why, then, did Terakiel find himself strolling serenely into the forest's outskirts? Was the forest a sentient thing that interpreted the needs of the travelers within? If so, why had it not opened up its doors much earlier? Had he managed to unknowingly break through Lakara's barrier with his natural aptitude for the Strand? It wouldn't be the first time that he'd exercised his powers in ways that he couldn't even begin to understand. It was as if some anonymous being was flexing its spectral muscles through him.

So often since his father's death, Terakiel had felt he lacked control. He wanted to take responsibility for what he'd been doing, but it was like he was sleepwalking--only instead of walking around harmlessly he was blowing holes through cavern walls and teleporting strangers from halfway across the world. Was this common for "Stranders" or were these terrifying shows of power even for experienced practitioners? He wasn't sure he wanted to live in a world where those kinds of things were commonplace--but he wouldn't mind some reassurance that he was "like everyone else" in some small way.

At this point, he felt sure he was in no danger of ever being classified as normal. 

Stone Devils (Day 297)

I think it would be wise to get started on this entry now, because I feel like I could fall asleep at any second. I'm catching up on the second day of EU LCS matches for this week, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if I dozed off right in the middle of them.

I'm finally feeling better, although my stomach hasn't completely settled down. I can definitely tell the last vestiges of the sickness are seeping away, but I still don't have any clues as to what might have brought it on. These things just happen sometimes, I guess. I'm glad I was feeling better today, because it ended up being a very stressful day. We were very busy and I ended up staying over my scheduled time by about an hour. I don't mind that at all since I left a few hours early the other day. I'm eager for any opportunity to make that time up because I need the money pretty badly.

I feel like I haven't had much time for gaming lately because of my weird sleep schedule and working, but I don't really mind. I know I'll have plenty of time do catch up. I have Tuesday and Wednesday off this week, so that'll be a nice block of time to invest into progressing in Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden. I really want to finish that so I can move on to Final Fantasy X. I don't really have enough free time to play them concurrently, and I know if I neglect Alpha Gaiden I'll never finish it. Granted, I've been neglecting Final Fantasy X for a number of years now. . .

Recently I watched X-Men: First Class and enjoyed it a lot more than I expected I would. I have generally not been a big fan of the X-Men films and especially not X-Men 3, which I thought was terrible. I mostly enjoy superhero movies at least on a superficial level, but despite being familiar with the X-Men mythology, I just could not get into those movies much at all. I think I was never very convinced by the casting, with the major notable exception of Patrick Stewart as Professor Xavier. First Class has an entirely different cast, however, and I loved how they mixed it up. Michael Fassbender as young Erik Lensherr (Magneto) was particularly convincing.

I'd like to go see X-Men: Days of Future Past but I don't particularly want to go see it by myself. I'm considering asking a coworker to go see it with me, but. . .we'll see how that goes. I'm still not all that comfortable with initiating social situations, considering the extremely long period of time I spent in self-imposed exile. It's not a big deal, but for some reason the idea of proposing the idea and being refused is somewhat disconcerting. 

1944 (Day 296)

I'm still not feeling all that well. I really hope this wears off by tomorrow, because I've gotta be at work by 8 AM and I'd like to enjoy the chicken biscuits that have been promised to me. I don't feel as sick as I did yesterday, but the fact remains that I'm not out of the woods yet and I find that just annoying enough to prevent me from enjoying much of anything. Food in particular is bringing me no pleasure, which is extremely out of character for me considering my rabid appreciation for food under normal circumstances. I've also been dealing with a pretty consistent headache all day and aspirin seems to be having little to no effect on it.

This whole situation has made me think about my general health a lot. I have no clue what brought this on, but it's made me realize how poorly I've been eating lately. I don't feel like I'm the kind of person that needs a lot of food to function, but I have an unfortunate tendency of eating a lot just because I'm bored or want to reward myself in some way. I enjoy food. I really do. When I'm not sick, I look forward to eating food and take a lot of pleasure in it. I generally don't hold back or try to minimize the size of my portions. There are two major problems that come from this, of course. One, I gain weight, and two, I spend way too much money on food. These are both things I could do without.

I'm not as much concerned with being overweight as I am with being unhealthy. Although I'm not satisfied with my body, I feel I'm at a stage in my life where I am at least taking the first steps toward tolerating it. However, if I could generally feel better on a daily basis, that would be great. I think maintaining a better diet and exercising would assist me considerably in feeling better about myself. It's a proven fact that exercise releases endorphins that straight up make you feel better. It also increases your endurance and stamina, both of which are really helpful in the event of a long day at work. I have a pretty low activity job right now, but it's definitely not going to hurt me to be in better shape regardless.

I have historically not gotten sick very often, but there have been too many days to count where I just felt bad. Lethargy and apathy are incredibly common for me even when I can't think of a source for them. Some might immediately relegate those emotions to depression, and I'm sure that's part of it. Despite my situation in life, I can't honestly say I feel I'm suffering from crippling depression, however. I think if I tried to be more active and ate better food in general, my attitude would improve considerably. Back when I was going on walks/runs very often about six months ago, there was a pretty noticeable improvement to my attitude. I ended up falling out of the habit because I got bored more than anything else. Surprisingly, laziness had less to do with it.

Running is not that fun for me just because my body type and level of fitness make it very difficult and painful, but walking I actually enjoy a lot. After awhile, though, the novelty wears off, and I get bored of walking down the same path every day. It would be a lot more fun and engaging if I had someone to chat with while I was doing it. I don't have a ton of friends, though, and almost none of them live nearby. It seems unlikely I'll have this kind of opportunity any time soon, but I'll be on the lookout.

Today Will Die Tomorrow (Day 295)

Holy crap, I feel terrible right now. I'm not entirely sure what's happening, but I'm having stomach pains, nausea, a little dizziness, headaches, and all sorts of other mundane things that make me feel like not doing much of anything in particular. I'm immensely regretting what little food I've eaten today because it seems to be serving no other purpose than putting more pressure on my stomach and digestive system. I almost wonder if I got food poisoning, but it doesn't seem likely. I'm sure I'd be in a much worse situation if that were true.

I left work early today because of the nausea and pain, hoping that a few hours of rest would go a long way in helping me to feel better. I can't say my situation has noticeably improved, but at least it hasn't gotten any worse. I can only hope that I'll feel better by tomorrow, my day off. I'd like to get some serious writing done tomorrow because I've stumbled on quite a few ideas lately. I woke up in the middle of last night and started carefully composing an entry based on idle sleepy thoughts. I think it came out pretty well, although I'm admittedly in no state to make a reasoned evaluation of it right now.

I think what's probably more important is the fact that I furiously jotted down a bunch of notes that I think will really help in fleshing out the overall story. If there's one thing Strands (why yes, that is a working title) lacks right now, it is direction. This is because for the longest time, I've been basically making it up as a I go along. I have some pretty strong ideas on what I want to do with Terakiel as a character but I'm also completely open to ruthlessly restructuring those ideas and going in a direction that feels right for the story I'm writing now. He is based on a character that has been in the periphery of my thoughts since I was 15 years old, if not even before that--but he's also not really that same character. He is constructed from that foundation but I'm hoping that he will eventually grow to be something more than that.

As I approach 50,000 words, I realize I've drafted a story in which not very many things actually happen. There is a lot of movement, but a considerable lack of progression. Terakiel spends a long time alone in this story. If there's one aspect that I definitely want to keep, it's that one. I think a principle theme of Strands is going to be that feel of isolation, of loneliness. Terakiel is an outcast by birth but also by choice. In many ways, it is the only method by which he can be truly comfortable. At the same time, he relies on the support of others and fundamentally needs to be a part of a community in some way. Considering the remarkable circumstances surrounding his existence, this will not be easy.

Above all else, I need to add a sense of urgency to Strands. This is the kind of thing a story gains by having a predestined direction in which to travel. I can't pretend that I have the arc of Terakiel's story completely mapped out, but I'm certainly closer than I was when I began--and even much closer than only a few days ago. I have considered important questions and what the answers to those questions might be. Although transitioning from the material I have now into a plot that has direction and progression will be difficult, I feel I'm certainly up to the task. It is important at this stage not to overly pressure myself into making a polished work. I have to understand that I am essentially working from a skeletal framework--a framework that I can build on over time until I have a solid structure.

As I explore the possibilities of this project further, certain aspects will be scrapped and others will be expanded upon. I think one critical element that is missing from this whole process is some level of peer review--but I'm not sure I'm even ready for that stage yet. As much as I am willing to be critical of my own work and as much as I admit that what I've written so far sorely needs heavy editing and even radical transformation, I feel as if I'm still quite sensitive when it comes to accepting criticism from others. I am somewhat ashamed to admit it, but I think opening myself up to that level of criticism might somewhat deplete my enthusiasm for my work. I considered for a moment the other day the possibility of getting published. This is not an idea I've entertained since I was a teenager, when I had more passion for writing if not considerably less raw mechanical skill. I think the fact that it's on my mind is a great thing, even if it's just as unlikely as ever.

Having goals is important, especially for someone like myself. I have historically been prone to legendary bouts of apathy. When it comes to something I'm passionate about, however, I'll work hard at it. I'll go the extra mile. At the same time, finding something I'm passionate about it very difficult, and maintaining my interest even harder. This blog has been a tremendous help in heightening my focus and strengthening my resolve, even when it comes to the most trivial of things. Most importantly, it has gotten me into the swing of writing regularly. It has made me enjoy writing again. For the majority of the past six or seven years, I was sure I'd never find that passion again.

Above the Clouds Lies Eternal Sun (Day 294)

Terakiel found that his thoughts were most active when he finally laid down to sleep. He spent the better part of the day trudging forward through the mist-laden forest, concentrating solely on the path ahead of him and banishing ruthlessly all idle thoughts. As he drifted on the edge of consciousness, however, it became virtually impossible to maintain the energy required to quash those thoughts. It was night. Although the mist choked out most sources of light, it was still possible to tell the difference between night and day. The expected sounds of chirping insects and the calls of owls were notably absent. It was perfectly silent in the darkness of Lakara and so Terakiel was left with his thoughts.

His eyes were firmly closed, though it mattered little. He knew what was right in front of him, what was behind him, and what enveloped him on all sides. It was all the same--an endlessly repeating pattern. There was no variation in the trees and brush of this part of Lakara. It was anyone's guess what strange otherworldly plane that Terakiel and his companions had wandered into, but Terakiel himself was perfectly ready to be out of it. The ghostly moth had advised him that he was close to other humans--although had declined to explain any further. Just as mysteriously as he had appeared, he was gone and the cold and bedraggled young man was alone once more.

Perhaps if he slept and regained his energy, everything would make sense when he awoke. The twisting, nonsensical layout of Lakara would reform and reshape itself into a coherent path and Terakiel would find himself walking straight into a community of friendly villagers, all perfectly willing to feed and clothe him. It had been a long time since he'd spent time with another willing human being. He'd brought Aisen and Casnie to Lakara against their wills. Even though it'd been an accident, he was still the cause. Although they'd been his companions, he imagined their primary goal must have been to return home. There was no telling where they were now. Terakiel felt a sudden, intense pang of guilt and his eyes shot open.

It made little difference. He could make out little more than indistinct shapes dancing in an almost imperceptible breeze. The mist obfuscated most details even in the daylight. At nighttime, it was all he could do to recognize what he was looking at as reality. Is that what this was? This was reality? Terakiel had to admit that the goings on of the past several days resembled nothing so much as a nightmare. He wondered if perhaps his intent to sleep was misguided. It might have been a better idea to concentrate on waking up.

How wonderful that might be, he thought, to wake up back in Tombolin. None of this would have happened. His father would be alive and he wouldn't be some malfunctioning conduit for dangerous arcane energies. He wondered if it would have been possible to spend an entire lifetime without discovering what he really was. One emotional outburst had loosed destructive energies and caused a tragedy--but what if he had had more control over his emotions? If he had somehow composed himself, would any of this have happened? It was a dangerous path, he realized, to invest so much energy in dwelling on what he had done, but he couldn't help but consider the possibilities. The impenetrable silence of Lakara had a way of drawing out his darkest thoughts.

He was dimly aware of the dully smoldering remains of the campfire he'd made earlier. The meager light it gave off was oddly comforting to him. It was the only light he had that seemed to pierce the mist. Contemplating the warmth and light of that fire, he finally found the embrace of sleep, blissfully unaware of how his environment was shifting around him. When he awoke several hours later, the fire had been completely extinguished. Only a few wisps of smoke remained. The mist, however, was gone. Although his surroundings were as he remembered them when he first fell asleep, there was something that was tangibly different about them as well. In the distance he was certain he could see a visible change in the pattern of the trees.

Although Terakiel had been beginning to lose hope, the moth had led him in the right direction. He was sure of that now. There would be humans nearby.I might not be out of the woods yet, but something has changed. He rose to his feet with a yawn, stretching out his weary muscles as he did so. He set off in the same direction he'd been traveling, but this time with renewed purpose. It finally felt like he was getting somewhere, like he was making progress. For days it seemed he'd been cursed to walk an endless loop. He could only hope that these other humans were as benevolent as the moth.

His Ghosts Will Invade Puerto Rico (Day 293)

I'm finally taking the time to compile my story into one massive document. I had originally planned to use Word to do this, but I think I'm going to use Google Drive instead. This allows me to access it from anywhere and more easily share it with others if need be. I'll also keep a somewhat up to date copy on my computer, just in case something happens. After I've finished compiling it, I'm going to do a word count. I'm pretty curious to see just how much I've written so far. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the one section I've rewritten. Should I include both for now or try to insert it in the spot I believe it belongs? The rewritten section doesn't exactly follow everything that has happened thus far, so I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to handle it. I might just decide to go ahead and throw both in there for the time being.

Alright, that didn't end up taking quite as long as I thought it might. I decided to omit the rewritten section for now. It's under a different tag (writing (rewriting)) so I missed it completely. I will still definitely look back at it to see if it's the direction I want to go in, but it's still pretty likely I'll rewrite once again using that as a guide. I know for sure that I'm going to more or less redesign Aisen from the ground up with a better idea of what his backstory should be.

So far, my story consists of 46,301 words, which is roughly 180 pages if closely conforming to industry standards. This is already as long as some books, but considering the genre, I'm probably shooting for something closer to 100,000 words. I don't think the eventual number matters much in the end, but if for some reason I was trying to get myself published, it would be best to shoot for a tidy, manageable number. Even for a fantasy publication, long-winded first works are typically overlooked. I have no illusions that I'm a strong enough writer to get published, but if I do end up with a final draft that I consider to be polished--why not give it a shot? There would be no harm in trying.

Even if what I have so far is a disorganized mess (and believe me, it is), I'm proud that I have written so much. I haven't done things like that since I was in early high school or even middle school. These were times I felt like I really had a passion for writing. It captured my imagination and fulfilled me in ways that I have had a hard time replicating. I'm starting to get that feeling back and it's really great. Even though I've accomplished something really good here, I think I can do much better. 

I'm going to try to avoid going back and relentlessly editing myself too much at this point. I plan on rewriting Aisen's introduction and some of the ensuing events just because I plan for him to be pivotal to the story, but other than that, I'm going to try to soldier on. I want to hammer down all of the important events for the story and plot out a strong beginning, middle, and end. The story needs a strong conclusion that doesn't necessarily rule out the possibility of a continuation. Fantasy stories are about building a world that lives on forever. Fantasy series tend to continue for long, long periods of time--and that's what I want to happen here. I want this first story to be self contained, but I don't want the world to stop at the end, either.

What I'm planning to do here will be challenging. It will stretch whatever writing talent I have to the breaking point, but that's what needs to happen. I need to get out of my comfort zone and really try to take my writing to the next level. If it's important for me to be creative in some away in my life, then I need to give it my all. I need to make the most of this. 

Disintegrate (Day 292)

I feel like if I don't start writing soon then I'll never get this entry done! I am going to try to update in between games of League of Legends, possibly a paragraph or two at a time. What I'l write about is not yet decided, however. I would have liked to update the story today, but I still haven't gotten around to compiling all of the different entries. I think I might go ahead and do that tonight, but I'm not necessarily looking forward to it considering how massive a document it will end up being. It'll be interesting to see the wordcount of what I've written so far, even if some of it isn't exactly my best work.

Over the past couple of days I've been watching both the European and North American LCS, as the new split just started up this week. The European games were pretty even, with any team capable of losing to another. Every European team has lost at least one game thus far. The North American scene, however, is a little different. It's looking like LMQ and possibly Dignitas will go undefeated this week, although I haven't caught up on the games today because I've been too busy playing League of Legends matches of my own.

Riot recently introduced a Fantasy LCS game mimicking the functionality of Fantasy Football--but with League of Legends players and teams. I personally feel it's a lot of fun and carefully drafted my team out of the possible choices. I'm pretty excited that I was able to grab Shiphtur in my flex pick spot because in his first game of the season he got a pentakill on LeBlanc and went 15/0/4, netting an unreal 51 points in one game. This is probably the edge I need to beat my opponent, whose flex pick is WildTurtle. He's been performing okay, but TSM in general is in a slump at the moment. This is to be expected after two major roster swaps in Amazing and Gleeb.

My initial picks for week 1 were Balls from C9, Xpeke from Fnatic, Dexter from CLG, Sneaky from C9, Aphromoo from CLG, CLG as my team, and Shiphtur as my flex pick. Out of those choices, Shiphtur has surprised me the most with his massive first game. Xpeke didn't secure me nearly as many points as I expected, but he still ended up being a really solid choice. CLG has had a couple of rough games, so Dexter hasn't been a great producer of points--but oddly, Aphromoo has been pretty consistent in that regard. For the first week, I'm up against my friend Tyler, who has a pretty solid team--but I think I can pull it out in the end. I'll find out as soon as I catch up on the games tonight.

Hopefully I'll be able to put out a real entry tomorrow. This is one of the only times lately that I've been able to play some games with my friends, and I don't like missing out on that.

Let Me Know That You Know What You Want Now (Day 291)

After examining some of my older writing entries, I've noticed a pretty dramatic stylistic shift from those early days. In the beginning, I had a much stiffer and formal writing style, especially when it came to dialogue. I think I was trying to mimic that archetypal pseudo Olde English dialect common to a lot of fantasy novels but the more I think about it, the more I realize I don't really care for that too much. Whose to say that that dialogue style is really necessary in a fantasy setting? Sure, the level of technology may be approximately the same as the real world Middle Ages or Victorian Era (I haven't really decided on this) but there's absolutely no reason to suggest dialects would be the same.

As a result, my recent entries into the story have had a decidedly more casual style with somewhat more contemporary dialogue. I feel like this is less exhausting to write and read, although I realize there are some that might disagree. I guess I'm just tired of the tropes inherent to fantasy dialogue. I was a big fan of it when I was younger but I think I'd rather have characters who speak more or less like modern humans while living in a decidedly stranger world. I'm not a master of language by any means, so eliminating that barrier allows me to write more believable and impassioned dialogue when it matters.

I'm curious what course of action I should take now. I could start systematically rewriting all of my old entries, but I wonder how much of a waste of time that might be. Should I instead concentrate more on adding as much content to the story as possible or maybe I should even alternate between rewriting older entries and adding new content? The only thing that concerns me about rewriting old entries now is the possibility of getting burned out and losing interest in the story altogether. I'm a little tired of the story's old setting. That's a big part of why updates become so sparse for such a long time. I'm not sure revisiting that is going to do me any favors in the motivation department.

Then again, it's certainly possible I'm tired of the setting because I wrote myself into a corner--and that's a pretty good reason to go back and rewrite. I wonder if it might be wiser to compile all the entries into one document before I start this process though, so I can get an idea of what I'm doing while I'm rewriting. I've attempted on a couple of occasions to summarize this story but it's been very difficult for me to do so. I need to paint in broader strokes in general. Big things should happen and characters should generally be more notable and memorable. I can add shades of subtlety later on!

I think once I go back to the very beginning, I can really add some polish to those early scenes because I have a much better idea of where the story is going--even if to this day I'm still not sure where things are going to end up. I think this is a process I should repeat a few times until I end up with a massive document that is reasonably coherent. At that point, I'll edit it ruthlessly until I have something I can call polished. I'll do research to make sure things make sense and hopefully I can bribe some others in to reading it and providing feedback. I know one person who'd love to give it a read once it's done, but I've got a year and a half until he'd be available.

I feel like I've been maintaining this blog for an extremely long time now. If I look back to older entries it's really interesting to see the kinds of things I was doing at the time and how I was presenting myself. I can only wonder how things will have changed in a a year and half. The cynical side of me suggests I won't still be updating it, but I honestly think it's a decent possibility that I will be. I've written so much already and I'm not really showing any signs of stopping. Maybe I'll make 1000 entries--and maybe by that point I'll have completed a draft for Terakiel's story. I'm already sick of calling it that. I should come up with a name, even if it's a temporary one.

Longing for Colors (Day 290)

I'm going to talk about a couple of things today because I've given up on actually writing a coherent entry. I had some thoughts about introducing another new character to my little writing project, but I may wait to do that. He's connected with Aisen and it might be a better idea to rewrite his introduction first. Then again, there wouldn't be much harm in just writing about his backstory now. That would give me better context on what kind of character he is in that initial meeting with Terakiel. 

The idea is that Aisen is part of a group of outcasts, persecuted for reasons that are currently unknown even to me. If I were to follow the tradition of the character Aisen was inspired by, then it would be because of his "magical" powers. I feel like this is too convenient an explanation, considering Terakiel's own situation, though. I'm considering the idea of having more conflicting forces at play. Terakiel could have access to this terrifying primal energy from the Strand--and so does Casnie--but what if the Strand is not the only way to harness these kinds of powers? What if there are other "sorcerers" out there who use other methods to accomplish their goals?

What immediately springs to mind is the idea of clerical magic from traditional fantasy. Priests draw on holy powers from various different deities to accomplish similar goals. Some deities are virtuous and others are chaotic, but individuals from all over the world draw on them to perform miracles and cast spells. I don't like the idea of deities being something that really exists in my story, but I would like to flirt with a similar concept. Is the Strand a real, physical thing or is it a theoretical construct invented by the humans of Illatha? I think I like the idea of the Strand being approached in different ways depending on the regon. The plains people of Jiendo, for instance, call Stranders sorcerers instead. They'd be more prone to call what these individuals do "magic" than other regions. Sorcerers are feared and reviled in Jiendo, whereas skill with the Strand is considered a form of status in Sidea.

On the other hand, unregulated Stranders (called wilders) are looked down upon in Sidea. They are considered foolish and dangerous to those around them--which can often be true, as is seen in the case of Terakiel. For those with especially high levels of attunement, carefully monitored instruction and training is required to prevent accidents that could cause damage to the Strander and those around him or her. Stranders are so rare in Terakiel's hometown that the very concept has vanished to time. Abilities such as the ones Terakiel possess are considered little more than myth and superstition. 

I feel like every time I discuss the Strand, I tiptoe carefully around using the word "magic." It's a very effective and descriptive word, but I've made a stylistic decision to avoid using it. Sideans typically do not use the word primarily because it is not an accurate description of what the Strand is to them. Magic consists of parlor tricks and vulgar illusions, whereas the Strand is primal, elemental, and very real. Those societies that are more prejudiced against its use are more prone to using that name, however. The problem I'm running into is that I have to use very awkward phrasing to avoid using the word "magic." I end up using words like "energy," "force," and I go on about "communing with the Strand." I hope at some point that I'll devise a more elegant solution.

A Gaze Blank and Pitiless as the Sun (Day 289)

 One of these days pretty soon, I need to compile everything I've written for Terakiel's story. It's a big unorganized mess, so I'm not really looking forward to it. I've really just been adding on and on for the past. . .six or seven months or however long this whole writing exercise has been going for. At one point I was keeping track of everything in a Wordpad document, but after updates became sparser, I stopped doing that. I've considered compiling them into some kind of document that would allow me to make a table of contents so I could more easily access specific parts of the story, but I'm not really sure how to go about that.

If I did organize everything like that, it would give me better perspective on what really needs attention and what should be rewritten. I have a whole new backstory in mind for Aisen. Right now, he has very little personality to speak of. If I had to sum him up in one word, I'd probably say "inoffensive." I think when Aisen and Terakiel meet, it should be more of a dramatic moment. As the story is now, they meet up and Aisen just sort of. . .accepts his new fate. He might be a little disgruntled, but he is otherwise not bothered by his new situation. This strikes me as pretty unfeasible, even for a work of fantasy. I have some ideas about where he might have come from, who his friends might have been, and what his motivations might be--and perhaps most important, some defining personality traits.

It's possible Casnie could use some spicing up as well because if I were to try to sum her up, I'm not sure I could. The only real defining character trait that she has right now is a love for her sister, and I've barely even touched on that. It's something I introduced in the experimental rewrite of the first Casnie scene and I haven't really messed with it much since then. I was planning on referring to it more and maybe, y'know, explaining it, but I haven't quite gotten around to it.

I think Casnie was supposed to be some sort of musician originally. Although a talented Strander, her real interest was supposed to be music. I'm not sure how I was going to incorporate this, but that was the nugget of an idea that formed in my head. One pressing concern is just how underdeveloped my ideas about the Strand and its cultural impact are. I have it in mind that this "magic" is commonplace in Sidea, but for what purpose is it most commonly used? Is it military? Utility? Some combination of both? Maybe it's used as a substitute for labor in some cases. Is it strictly a primal energy or is it more of a practiced art? Why haven't I definitively answered these questions yet?

I get really impatient about the "worldbuilding" aspect of this story. I want to just focus on the characters and their interactions but I feel like I'm falling short on that as well. I think I should just hold myself to a higher standard of quality--which I'm just realizing heavily contradicts a previous post about writing as much as I can regardless of quality. I guess I'm really just thinking about the final product in this case. I'm being as critical of my writing as I can so I could eventually get it to a point where it is polished and lives up to my standards. That'll take some time.

I Want for Nothing (Day 288)

"I'm not sure I have a good answer for that," Casnie replied carefully. Who were these women? One was dark-skinned with a wild mane of hair bound fruitlessly with a flimsy strip of cloth and the other small and frail, with wispy dark hair cut very short. The first woman, who called herself Brea, seemed much more at home in this place than the second, whose girlish blouse did not seem appropriate for the area's harsh conditions. Casnie's own attire was perfectly suitable for traveling, but the heat and dryness of the air was already making her crave an outfit more akin to the tall woman before her.

Only a few hours before, Casnie had been enveloped by the great forest of Lakara, on the run from a bizarre reptilian creature who clearly did not belong. Now she was in an entirely different climate likely half a world away. Had she somehow traveled through the Exod once again without realizing it? Was this Terakiel's doing, whether intentional or not? Or was it merely the whim of Lakara itself? Frustratingly, Casnie had no answers to any of these questions. She wondered if she'd ever make it back to Sidea. Although it's climate had been relatively balmy, it was nothing compared to the suffocating heat of the plains.

"Where am I?" asked Casnie. She was not overly concerned with how ridiculous she sounded. These were the first human begins she'd come into contact with since Aisen and Terakiel. Unlike them, these two must surely understand where they were and perhaps how to get to civilization. 

The woman called Brea raised an eyebrow. "Er, well, these are the plains." She made a broad, sweeping gesture to encompass the general area.

"The plains," Casnie repeated Brea's unhelpful statement.

"Oh, I mean--actually we're in the Stakes right now. They're sort of part of the plains, I guess."

"I see." Is she making this up as she goes along?

"We're near the Jiendo settlement," the other woman spoke up, perhaps sensing Casnie's frustration. Her voice was softer and meeker than Brea's, a feat she would have thought to be impossible. Unless Casnie missed her guess, these two women were terrified of her. She couldn't even begin to comprehend why that might be, but she was also somewhat hesitant to explore the issue further.

"We're near a city?" Casnie asked. "Out here?"

Neither Brea nor the other woman responded right away. They exchanged meaningful glances and whispered a few words Casnie couldn't hear. "We'd like to know where you came from," Brea said finally, ostensibly after taking the time to steel her resolve. Her dark eyes were shimmering with with what Casnie could only identify as the courage inherent to a dragon slayer. What are they so scared of? She ran a hand through her tousled hair. Do I really look that bad?

Casnie was still unsure how to tackle this issue. She had her suspicions that these two women already considered her dangerous or perhaps insane--possibly both. Telling them that she'd been running away from a large lizard creature in a forest and suddenly she'd ended up here would likely not improve their opinion of her. It sounded crazy even to her. Still, she needed to find people she could trust. Try as she might, Casnie could not imagine a scenario where these two women were dangerous predators seeking her death. As naive as that might be, she felt she had little choice but to trust them for now.

"To tell you the truth. . ." Casnie began. She knitted her brow in frustration, trying to figure out how best to phrase what had happened. "I'm not sure there's any way I can explain how I ended up here and have it actually be believable. Suffice to say, I have been separated from some traveling companions--and before that, well. . . If I can't find them, I'd like to figure out a way to just return home."

Brea swallowed slowly. The other woman said nothing. "Wh-where. . ." Brea stammered. "Where is it that you live? Where are you wanting to. . .return?"

"Sidea," Casnie replied. She was afraid she'd end up back in the mazelike forest of Lakara. She was concerned about the fates of Terakiel and Aisen, but in the end, she had to concentrate on herself. There were people she wanted to return to. Terakiel could not rightly be held responsible for everything that had happened, but had he not set out from his home after what he did, then Casnie's short trip through the Exod would have gone as planned. She'd still be in Sidea now and she'd be able to see her sister.

"See day uh," Brea repeated the world in a childlike way, chewing on what were evidently unfamiliar syllables. This was not a good sign. 

"I take it you do not know of it," Casnie sighed.

Your Affection (Day 287)

In the past I've use this blog as a form of primitive therapy. It has been helpful in that regard but ultimately cannot replace the ears of another human being. It would be nice if I could talk to someone I could trust--and I guess, more importantly, someone who would be willing to listen. I think even if there was someone out there who'd like to listen, I'd be self conscious about discussing my problems with them and I'd continue to minimize the importance of all of my issues. It's so easy for me to dismiss the fears and anxieties I have on a daily basis because they so often melt away by the time I sit down at my couch. Lately, that hasn't been the case.

No matter how much I try to quash my concerns, it's clear that I've been under a lot of stress lately. I'm worried about a lot of things, from economic concerns to health and emotional issues. I'm worried I won't keep my job in the long term. I'm worried I won't be able to afford to pay for my bills. I worry that I'm eating too much. I worry that I'm never going to be in a stable place in life and I worry that I've already wasted too much time. I worry that my time has passed. I feel. . .really old. I'm not old. I'm still  only in my mid 20s, but considering my emotional age, I'm way behind. I feel like a teenager, and not in any of the good ways.

I'm irresponsible and I lack common sense. I have severe anxiety problems and crippling laziness. It's hard to say that I'm apathetic. That was certainly true in the past but this writing exercise has helped me greatly in becoming more self aware. The problem is that I haven't done a whole lot to change my poor behavior. It's true that getting a job at all is a huge step in the right direction, but it's really driven home just how sad my current position in life is. It's foolish to compare myself to others but it's hard not to. There are so many 18-21 year olds out there who are way more self assured and "adult" than I am. I feel like I was never taught how to be an adult.

I need to work on my self in the coming weeks. I keep telling myself "I don't know where to start," but I think figuring that out is exactly where to start. Maybe that's a paradox, but it makes sense to me. What do I need to do now? I need to figure out how to pay my bills and debts simultaneously, while still having enough money to fuel my vehicle and feed myself. I need to stop eating Taco Bell every day. That's absolutely ridiculous. I'm wasting so much money and I'm sure I've gained 10 pounds just in the past three weeks.

Beyond that, I need to clean my house. If I make small goals on a daily basis, then it doesn't seem quite so overwhelming. My first goal shouldn't be to clean the entire house from top to bottom. It might make more sense to just. . .do the dishes. My sink is fairly gross at the moment and could certainly use some care. After that's done, I'll feel like I've accomplished something and that I can get more done. That's what I'll focus on for now. I could easily start working on that tomorrow night. After that gets done, I could do whatever I want to do (after writing another blog entry, of course) and then accomplish at least one goal the following day since I don't have to work.

I'm still pretty worried about my money situation. I'm hoping my paycheck on the 23rd will be considerably more than my first, but I'm not holding my breath. If I stop wasting so much of my money, I'll feel a lot less stressed, I imagine.

For Prayer (Day 286)

"There she is!," exclaimed Sarah in a hushed whisper. "She's actually--she's eating one of those things!"

It was well known among the people of the plains that the wildlife in the Stakes was not only temperamental, but mostly a waste of time to kill and eat. The shard wolves had tough, wiry flesh that most cooking methods rendered only barely palatable. It was a last resort as a food source to say the least. This brown-haired woman was presently roasting a messily dismembered wolf leg over a roaring fire. Brea knew well the kind of disappointment the woman was in for once she was done preparing her meal.

From their vantage point behind a stand of rocks atop a slope, Brea and Sarah could just barely make out the strange woman's features. She was indeed not dressed for the plains, garbed as she was in a fine blue tunic and white leggings. It was clear the garment had seen better days, however. It was rumpled and caked with dust, ostensibly from the road. Her exposed forearms shone wetly with sweat but her complexion was quite pale--yet her fair skin had not yet been burned by the sun's rays. If she'd been traveling through the area for even a short period of time, the sun should have made much more of an effect on her. That was certainly strange.

"I'm impressed she managed to kill one of those things," remarked Brea quietly. "I don't see any kind of weapon on her at all."

Sarah's breath caught in her throat. "She. . .she doesn't need one."

"Oh, right--because she's a sorcerer? I'll believe that when I see evidence of it."

"It's right in front of you," grumbled Sarah. "How else would she have taken a shard wolf down? Do you think she used her bare hands? Look at her. She's delicate."

It was true that this woman was rather more slender than your average plainswoman--not unlike Sarah, to be truthful. Looks could be deceiving, however, and judging by this woman's propensity for slaying dangerous predatory beasts, she was more than capable of handling herself. It was extremely unlikely she would be able to take a shard wolf down unarmed, Brea had to admit. Her weapon could be lying somewhere discarded, surely? After scanning the area, Brea caught sight of a thick cloak lying a few yards away from the fire, most likely discarded due to the heat. This was yet another inappropriate article of clothing for the area--but perhaps her weapon of choice was with that cloak?

"She can't be that delicate if she took down a shard wolf. She probably has a weapon, Sarah. See that cloak? It's probably under there for safekeeping."

"She doesn't have anything, Brea. . ." Sarah returned quietly. "She brought the wolf down with some destructive force. She's dangerous. Do you think she wants something with Jiendo?"

Brea scoffed. "Of course not. Even if she were a sorcerer, what possibly reason would she have to be here? There is absolutely nothing of interest out here in the plains--even I can admit that."

"I can't pretend to understand the motives of a sorcerer!" exclaimed Sarah. "All I know is that her being here can't be a good thing."

"I'm going to go talk to her," Brea said suddenly, her mind made up scarcely before the words had left her mouth.

"No!" Sarah yelling, forgetting for the moment that they were trying not to alert the woman of their presence. "Don't! She'll kill you, Brea!"

The woman had clearly heard Sarah's shrill yowl and affixed her gaze on the stand of rocks they'd been hiding behind, her muscles tensed nervously. She let the gory leg fall unceremoniously to the parched earth and rose to her feet, readying her hands at her side. She very much resembled a cat about to pounce. Brea stumbled clumsily down the slope toward the clearing the woman had made camp in, her hands thrust out before her in a gesture she hoped was spectacularly unthreatening.

"Hello, Stranger," she said uncertainly. "I, uh, don't mean you any harm, but I noticed you were out here alone and I wondered if you--well, uh. I'm Brea."

The other woman relaxed the tension in her muscles subtly, but it was clear she was still ready to. . .do something. Whether it was fighting or fleeing, Brea wasn't sure, but it was clear the woman was not quick to trust. "My name is Casnie," she said suddenly. Her voice had a carefully composed quality to it, as if she were delivering lines on a stage.

"N-nice to meet you," replied Brea awkwardly. "What brings you to the plains?"

Mary is Mary (Day 285)

I made a mistake by eating a large amount of pizza before attempting to complete this blog entry. My important systems are now slowly shutting down one by one. Soon I will enter into a pizza coma and proceed to be as unproductive as humanly possible for the remainder of the evening. I fear this process has already started as I feel my faculties slowly beginning to fundamentally break down. 

For months I lived on pretty much nothing but ramen and cofee--or whatever else I had handy at the time. I know at one point I was making spaghetti seasoned with whatever ingredients I had at hand with no sauce or meat whatsoever. It wasn't that bad, but it did get pretty old on the sixth day in a row of eating it. Now that I have some income I've really been overdoing it on eating out. I plan on doing some grocery shopping tomorrow. Hopefully I'll think to buy some things I can cook and take with me to work and I'll save a little money over the next few weeks. Eating at Taco Bell and Domino's is not only pretty unhealthy, but not great for my intended goal of saving up cash.

I think I use fast food as an easy way to reward myself. "You made it through another day of work! Now go buy four burritos to celebrate!" But it's not a great habit to make, as I should well know. I'm really not a fan of grocery shopping though, and even though I like cooking, it's difficult to work up the motivation to do it regularly. As a result, even when I do get groceries, I tend to prioritize those foods that can be prepared very quickly and easily--and then I go through that food a lot more quickly than I'd like to. I have a bad habit of eating just for fun or when I'm bored and I think that's a big part of why I'm overweight. Well, that, and the fact that I'm extremely inactive these days.

My plan for tonight is to play more Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden and that is about as far as I've gotten into my planning process. I might watch some anime--who knows! It is a wonderful world of mystery out there, and I'm just letting the wind blow me in whatever direction it chooses. Chances are I'm just going to sit here and play games and watch Netflix/streams, though. Just like every other day. I'd like to watch some more Mobile Suit Gundam, so I might do that.

Lionized (Day 284)

Today was a stressful day, but I'm okay with that. I was worried the first time I had a busy, hectic day I'd crack under the pressure and have some kind of breakdown. That didn't happen. I handled it calmly and as efficiently as I could, considering the circumstances and I think I might have gotten a little better at my job as a result. I feel like I'm really behind in my life, but it's important to celebrate small victories like these. I'm curious to see how my performance improves as I put in more hours.

I'm also looking forward to getting all of my debts paid off--or at least paying off the ones that can be conceivably dealt with in a realistic time frame. My delinquent AT&T bill will be paid most likely by the 23rd, but my Walmart credit card bill will take more time. I'm separating that into payments of about $70 per month, although it's possible I"ll pay more on it sometimes if I find myself with some extra cash. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about my student loan payments. I don't have even the slightest inclination how I could fit that into my budget and still have enough money to buy food and pay for utilities. I am going to have to start doing that soon and I'm not really looking forward to it.

It's easy to dwell on the fact that at 26 I should be in a better financial situation than this. I should have graduated from college a long time ago instead of entering at age 23 and then dropping out a year later. I've always lacked direction and motivation in life and as a result my finances have suffered. There are things I want to do, of course, but I've never considered myself a very independent person. The biggest thing I've ever done alone is move to Texas, but I still had a lot of help from different people around me. My friends supported me enough to pack up all of my possessions in a tiny vehicle and drive me to Illinois so my roommate-to-be could pick me up and tow me all the way back to Austin. And then four months later when I found it wasn't working out, those same friends drove 1000 miles to pick me up. It was a silly and impulsive decision to make but my friends were there to bail me out.

In the end, though, it was a decision that I made on my own. My friend from Texas gave me the option and I could have easily said "No, I just don't think that sounds feasible. There are too many things that could go wrong." I could have said that and I would have been right. But I didn't. I said yes and then I tried to figure out a way to actually make it happen. We worked out something and a week or so later I was 1000 miles away. It was utterly surreal. It was one of those moments in my life where I'd wake up in the morning and I'd realize what I'd done--and I'd look at myself in the mirror. I'd say "Wow, I can't believe I actually did that." It was a ballsy move and I'm not known for ballsy moves. Even if it didn't work out in the end, I'm glad that I gave it a shot. I'm glad that I got to experience living somewhere else for awhile and I hope something like that will happen again. Next time I"ll be in a better place. I'll have money saved up, and I'll have the resources and skillset required to find a decent job in the area. And it'll be nice.

I'm going on tangents here, but that's okay. I haven't had an entry like this in awhile--one where I ramble and let the thread of my thoughts unravel wildly before me. These things have been on my mind lately. I'm getting older. I really wonder how things are going to progress for me. A couple of months before I moved to Texas, I wouldn't have dreamed I'd ever end up there. If someone had told me at that point that in two months I'd be 1000 miles away living in an apartment with someone I'd only ever known from the internet, then I'd ask them how they could predict the future. But then I'd say I didn't believe them unless they provided some pretty compelling contextual evidence to support their claims. Because y'know, I'm not completely unreasonable.

My point is--where am I going to be in two months? Am I still going to have this job? I hope so. I hope I will have morphed into a better salesman and that I will have a lot more confidence. I hope I'll be closer to having some debts paid off and I hope that I will have somehow found a way to forge some new relationships with people. What I don't want it to be is another Walmart situation. When I worked there every day was pretty much the same and nothing ever changed. It was like that for a long stretch of time. I worked there for four years and one day I just snapped to attention and I realized that I'd been working there for a good chunk of my 20s. All that time--and I'd spent it working at Walmart.

I mean, it wasn't all bad. A lot of cool stuff happened to me at Walmart and I'm really glad for that. I'm glad I was in a serious relationship even though it didn't end up working out. I still have those memories and I think it made me a better person overall. No matter what I've gone through since then, I can't dismiss what that did for me. There are of course things I regret about that period of my life, but that's fine, too. It's fine to have regrets as long as I don't let them consume me. It's all about looking to the future now.

But what's in the future for me? I don't know. I don't think I ever have. I've never even had the audacity to feel like I knew what was coming. I've had suspicions, of course, and I've had hopes. Most of my hopes didn't pan out, but I'm pretty okay with that. Things almost never go as we plan. It makes me wonder why people spend so much time doing it when things tend to fall apart, anyway. I think it's better to just have a general idea sometimes--but I guess that's why my life has historically been so directionless and why I dropped out of college after running out of general education classes to take.

I am not a man of many accomplishments. I think at one point in my life it seemed like I was going to be. I was obviously a very talented and intelligent kid. I was the kid with a lot of potential--and in a lot of ways that potential has been squandered, at least by the standards of most who would care to measure such a thing. For me, that doesn't matter all that much. It really only matters if I'm living up to my own expectations. I have goals and hopes for myself that don't align with what anyone else expects of me. When I was a kid I wanted to be a writer. At the time I felt that entailed fielding published works. But maybe that's not what it is. I think I'm a writer now. I am what I wanted to be. All those years of never writing--that's over. That's over for good now. In only a few months, I will have been doing this blog for an entire year.

That's an accomplishment I can be proud of.

With the Tides in Hindsight (Day 283)

Sarah pursed her lips in annoyance, clearly aware of Brea's clumsy attempt to steer the conversation away from her faux pas.She must have been distressed enough to overlook it for the time being, because she spoke up after a moment. "She's--I don't know. She's a bit shorter than you, but maybe a little taller than me. She was wearing a long thick cloak of all things. . . She was definitely overdressed. I don't know how she made her way here wearing that thing. She should have passed out from the heat by now. Where could she have come from?"

That did sound strange. Brea imagined the woman must have been traveling for some time, but if she'd come from a place where the weather might have been appropriate for a thick cloak, then she would have been traveling for a long time indeed. It didn't seem feasible for a woman alone, no matter how strong. 

"I can see why that would be unsettling," Brea ventured. "but you seem. . .a little upset. Did you speak with her?"

Sarah shook her head somewhat frantically.

"No? She didn't say anything to you? Did she threaten you?" Brea added the last part with a deadly grimace.

"No! No, she didn't talk to me. I didn't want to. . .say anything to her."

"I don't understand, Sarah. So she's wearing some weird clothes! That doesn't make her a dangerous intruder." 

"She. . ."

"She what, Sarah? Just tell me. She didn't talk to you or anything, so what did she do? Did she kill someone?"

"No, she didn't kill anyone--at least as far as I know. I didn't see her do anything like that."

"Well, at least there's that," Brea shot back sardonically. "It just wouldn't do to have a murderer in our midst."

"How about a sorcerer?" Sarah asked. Her words were a joke, but she sounded as serious as Brea had ever heard.

"Oh, yeah," Brea replied. "That could be worse, I guess. Let's stop joking around, though, Sarah. What did this woman do that has you so spooked? I'm worried about you, honestly. Just tell me what's going on."

"I'm serious," said Sarah, her voice lowering to a choked whisper on the second syllable. "She's a sorcerer, Brea. She--I saw her do. . .things. I was going to try to help her, but she. . ."

"Come on, Sarah. . . I'm usually the one that takes things too far. Let's be serious now. I believe you're upset. Don't take advantage of that right now."

"If you don't believe me. . ." Sarah sighed. "J--just follow me, okay? I'll take you to her. We'll have to maintain a safe distance, but. . .it's definitely true. I'm telling the truth." 

A sorcerer. They certainly weren't a common sight in this part of the world, but Brea had heard tales of their exploits. In some places sorcerers were heavily regulated and controlled by local governments. In others, they ran wild and destroyed towns and cities. They made their own law and controlled key areas all over Illatha. Sorcerers were not welcome on the plains--but that was just as well. It was not common anyone ever came to this place willingly anyway. It just didn't fit. There was no reason for a sorcerer to be here--especially not one dressed for cold weather. Just what was going on?

Sarah had to have been mistaken. She's been under a lot of stress lately, Brea reasoned. There as likely a grain of truth to her story, but she could have easily gotten confused. Although Brea found it difficult to construct a scenario that made sense based on the information she'd been given, she was confident that everything would make sense when she met this woman. It had to be a misunderstanding, right?

Eyesdown (Day 282)

" 'Something's happened?' What do you mean? Don't be so dramatic."

Sarah kneaded her brow thoughtfully and ran a nervous hand through her close-cropped dark hair in an agitated manner. She was clearly serious about this.

"What's wrong?" asked Brea, putting more concern into her tone.

"I found someone," Sarah replied simply, as if it explained everything.

"And?" Brea asked. "Is he cute?"

"Well yes, I suppose she's fairly attractive. I can't say. I'm not thinking about that right now, Brea! She's not supposed to be here!"

"Well yeah," Brea agreed slowly. "I mean, no one really belongs out here in The Stakes. I don't know why you come here, Sarah."

"That's not what I mean!" Sarah insisted. She had this way of sinking into herself, like a tiny scared bird. She was a small woman to begin with, but presently she seemed to be shrinking. She was slumped down awkwardly as if trying to evade the notice of predators. Judging by the absence of mysterious ghostly women in the immediate vicinity, it might have been working.

"Okay then, Sarah. Let's try to figure out what it is you do mean. We'll go through this slowly, okay?"

Sarah nodded, although she was clearly not unaware of the layer of condescension in Brea's tone.

"You saw a woman in the Stakes."

"Yes."

"And it wasn't you. Seriously, no one else comes out here."

Sarah let out an exasperated sigh and nodded in affirmation.

"Have you seen her before?"

"No!" Sarah insisted. "Of course not. There's. . .definitely no one like that on the plains."

"What did she look like? Maybe I know her."

"You don't, Brea. Trust me."

"Humor me, then. I'm curious! It's not often we get strangers around here. You should know that better than anybody."

Sarah winced, ostensibly at the reminder of the circumstances that brought her to the plains in the first place. It was not an area in which most gladly chose to live. Water was scarce and the neighboring areas were dangerous. Growing food was next to impossible, and the wildlife was a somewhat less than palatable food source. The people of the plains regularly journeyed to some of the larger cities to the south to purchase and trade for food. Diulane in particular was a common destination. Many of those that made this journey did not come back for various reasons, chief among them the realization that there were many opportunities to be had in these bustling communities. It was an alluring prospect to earn wages for an honest day's work and have easy access to fresh food and water. Brea was skeptical of being surrounded by so many people on a daily basis. It sounded terrifying.

Sarah seemed to think it was not so bad, but Brea could scarcely imagine it. If she lived deep in one of those big cities, when would she ever have time alone? People would constantly stare at her and ask her questions she'd prefer not to answer. She wouldn't even be able to wear the same clothes, most likely. Any time she wanted to take a walk and look around, she'd have to barge her way through huge groups of people, all who were staring at her and judging her. They might even yell at her and all her names like on the schoolyard when she was a child. No, she didn't like the sound of that at all.

Brea could tell that Sarah missed the city. She had grown accustomed to the blistering heat and the sunlight of the plains, but she could never seem to cope with the solitude and the boredom. She had confided to her on multiple occasions that she felt discontent and empty there--although if she were pressed, she'd be forced to admit she was glad to have made a friend like her. Brea felt she would be really sad to see her go if for some reason she ever decided to move to Diulane or another nearby city, but she had pretty firm suspicions that that wouldn't happen in the foreseeable future. Neither one of them liked to think about what had brought her there in the first place--so Brea suddenly felt awkward for indirectly bringing it up.

"Er, yeah," coughed Brea. "Yeah, just tell me what she looked like. I wanna know."

By Your Side (Day 281)

I'm not really sure how my body works. I'm almost sure I didn't get a single minute of sleep last night, but I'm honestly still really refreshed, even after a full day's work. It doesn't make any sense to me. I attempted to start sleeping at about 2:30 or so but I just kept tossing and turning and checking my phone every once in awhile to see what time it was. Time continued to advance but I don't recall ever being asleep. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, though. There's at least a decent chance that I slept for several 20 minute increments and I just don't remember it.

But still, with that kind of sleeping pattern I should still feel like crap, right? I didn't. I felt fine after I drank some coffee and I had almost no issues at work today. I didn't even drink any more caffeine. I had a Freeze from Taco Bell and that was it. No coffee, no Red Bull. I'm puzzled as to why I feel this way, but I'm pretty okay with it. I keep expecting a crash but it doesn't come. I'm expecting to get a full night's sleep tonight and then wake up feeling like death as a delayed reaction. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to continue to bathe in coffee.

--

She was a sturdy, squarish young woman with frizzy brown hair pulled haphazardly into a dusty ponytail. Wisps of brown fluttered lackadaisically from the strip of blue cloth struggling to bind her mane. Although she'd done her best to keep her hair tamed, she was constantly aware of strands partially obscuring her vision. It required hourly maintenance to keep in check. She wondered why she bothered. In this sunny, unforgivably hot land, it was considered foolish to sport such a hairstyle, but Brea liked it. It made her feel comfortable. She'd been growing it since she was a child and had been assured on multiple occasions that when she grew older she would develop the urge to cut it. But it never happened. She was an adult now, although a young one--and she still liked it. It was a colossal pain, but she couldn't bear the thought of getting rid of it.

It was definitely hot today, but then again, it was always hot. Her sunbaked complexion and spatter of freckles dotting her face were testament enough to that. Some wore hoods or large hats to shield themselves from the burning sun, but it was never really enough. According to her best friend, Sarah, it was a climate that took a considerable amount of time to become accustomed to. Brea had lived on the plains for the vast majority of her life and therefore was just about as acclimated to it as one could possibly be. She swung her broad brown shoulders side to side as she strode purposefully over the baked yellow earth, savoring the feel of the sun's rays on the nape of her neck and shoulder blades.

Despite Brea's quirky sense of style, she was presently dressed in what would be considered typical plainswoman attire. In such a hot climate, it was necessary to dress accordingly. She was draped in a long, narrow white cloth constructed from a thin but sturdy fabric, bound at the waist with a thick brown sash. This fell slightly below her waist much like a tunic, but left her upper torso largely bare. The tabard-like shirt was relatively loose-fitting as well. Many men and women chose not to wear it at all, instead opting only to wear billowy short pants and sturdy boots. The air was stirring today, though, and Brea thought it might be best to be afforded some protection against the hot wind. It had thus far turned out not to be necessary, however.

Where is she? Brea wondered. Sarah had made it perfectly clear she would be milling around the outskirts of the Jiendo settlement waiting for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. She had evidently been quite excited to tell her something, but would not even so much as give a hint as to what it could possibly be. It was the kind of person she was. She liked to withhold information from people and lord it over them--only to spring it on them in a moment of weakness to shock or surprise them. It was rather manipulative, Brea thought.

Scarcely before she had completed her thought, Brea caught sight of her in the distance. Sarah was pacing nervously around a pitifully withered and tiny tree. She was on the edge of the Stakes, an area where the sunbaked soil of the plains gradually gave way to roughshod rock terrain and dusty brown grasslands. It was not a place that plainspeople spent a lot of time in due to the dangerous wildlife indigenous to the area, none of which were particularly sought after for food. It was a dangerous and mostly pointless area to be in, which made it all the more confusing why Sarah would have asked to meet her there.

"Something's happened," proclaimed Sarah almost before Brea was even in earshot. Her mousy features were screwed up into a mask of what Brea could only read as excitement and--more than a little fear, if she didn't miss her guess.

Unlike Brea or other plainswomen, Sarah balked at the idea of wearing what she described as a "chest strap." Where she had come from, it was unseemly to expose so much flesh, even if were perfectly practical to do so. Brea thought she was just being silly, but she had to admit everyone had their stances they just wouldn't budge on. She absentmindedly touched her hair and shrugged inwardly. Sarah opted for a more "traditional" (by her standards" blouse with silly frills around the collar and short sleeves. Although it was made of a thin fabric, it was the kind of cloth that would easily tear when put through any kind of punishment. Brea had lost count of just how many of those things Sarah had managed to go through while prowling around the outskirts of the Stakes. Perhaps one of these days Sarah would become immersed enough in the plains culture to somewhat set aside her modesty and embrace practicality. Brea touched her hair again. That likely wasn't going to happen for either of them soon.

One concession Sarah had made to the plains culture was an adoption of the popular loose-fitting short pants that Brea herself currently wore. In months past, Sarah had experimented with wearing long leggings and sometimes skirts, but she'd soured on that idea in a relatively short time period. Still, she insisted she'd never wear the tabard shirts--but Brea would likely convince her sooner or later. That's what she liked to believe, anyway. It was the practical thing to do.

Alagoas (Day 280)

I've been putting off writing this for some time now! I've been playing Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden and a lot of League of Legends pretty much all day. All in all, it hasn't been a bad way to close out my "three day weekend" from work. I have this anxiety that sets in when I don't fill my free time with fun things. Honestly, it's a pretty childish impulse, but I can't help but slavishly adhere to it--or at least when I don't, I can't help but feel incredibly unfulfilled.

I do wish I could accomplish a little more on the creative front, though. Of course, I've still continued to update this blog every day, but even if I write extensively on the subjects I choose, the subjects I've been tackling lately aren't really what I'd like to cover. I've sat down in front of my computer and feverishly attempted to magic up some kind of creative impulse to continue my story or even start a new one on multiple occasions. But it's tough. I don't like the term "writer's block." I really like what Jerry Seinfeld said about that on his reddit AMA. He said that writer's block is a "phony, made up excuse for not doing your work." They seem like harsh words but I think they're basically true.

Sometimes I probably just need to sit down and start writing. I'm too worried about actually writing something good. I can't just start up after months of not writing and expect me to be able to produce excellent quality right away. Sure, I might suddenly be struck with a bolt of inspiration but it's unreasonable to expect that to happen at my command. I may be frustrated that my writing is stilted or unclear, but it doesn't matter. If it's important for me to be creative, I have to try. I can't just abandon what I start and wait for my muse to guide me through. That just leads me to never finishing anything. I'd rather finish a poor quality product than leave a half-finished draft of decent quality. That doesn't leave me with any fulfillment.

I need to realize that I can edit myself as much as I want. I need to realize that I can write and rewrite passages until I get exactly what I need. Above all else, I need to realize that a lot of the time, what I write is going to come across as poor quality. I have to be okay with that. As long as I'm producing content, I have a starting point. I can improve it from there. I can't be afraid of writing something bad.

When I get bored of where my story is going, I can shake it up. If the transition seems awkward or unnatural--that's okay! I can completely restructure the shape of the story to make up for it. I can't just let the story stagnate and stay where it is. I can do anything I want. I could introduce giant robots or more mythical beings. I could have my characters discover wondrous floating cities inhabited by highly intelligent aliens. Alternatively, I could continue on the current path where my characters are on a camping trip gone wrong.

Nuclear Mind (Day 279)

I have spent a not inconsiderable amount of time today reading through some of my old writing entries, both Terakiel's story and the story of the bearded man. I think they're both interesting but deeply flawed in a lot of ways. Maybe I'm too critical of myself, but I feel like my writing can be extremely stilted and wordy. I use too many syllables to get my point across. I think I try not to use boring or plain language but it makes some of those excerpts pretty tiring to read. That's not even mentioning the meandering, directionless tone of it all because I'm essentially making them up as a I go along.

I've always been really terrible at outlining and summarizing, even if I'm intimately familiar with the subjects in question. It's one of my main weaknesses as a writer and storyteller, but it can also cause problems in other areas of my life. I feel it's difficult to condense things down in a concise and effective way. I'd like to think this blog has helped me with that but it's clear it's still a big problem for me. I think I'm hesitant to continue writing (on either story) because I don't know where these characters are headed. I've written myself into a corner on three separate counts. Terakiel is parting ways with the moth. Casnie has just emerged into some other plane inhabited by who knows what. Aisen has fallen unconscious by a stream for mysterious reasons. I couldn't begin to explain why any of these things are happening or what's going to happen next. It's like I'm writing a season of Lost but I don't have assistance from others to come up with clever reasons why these things are happening.

Above all else, I don't know what I want to accomplish with this story. I know I can't just abandon it. I've written so much already. I've probably written more for it than anything else I've ever written. If I took the time to compile it into a document I think it would be dozens and dozens of pages long. Once upon a time I was consolidating every entry into a Word document but I stopped doing it because my updates became so infrequent. I was hoping that I could just keep going until I finished something, no matter how flawed and primitive it might be--but I'm not happy with the direction the story is taking because I don't know where it's going. I'm as clueless as any prospective reader might be.

I just don't feel inspired lately. These entries have become very difficult for me lately. It's true I don't have as much free time. That's why I've been writing more about my personal life than video games and there's nothing wrong with that, per se--but it feels like a bit of a cop out. This blog is supposed to serve as a means of creative expression and occasionally, therapy. It was not originally intended to be a mundane recollection of day to day events. One could argue that all of my video game entries are cop outs as well, but I would disagree. As trivial as others might find it, I'm actually quite passionate about video games and I love writing about them.

I'm not sure exactly what needs to change. I've suggested recently that I should read more and that's probably a good start. But is that really going to get me writing again? I think part of the issue lies in my increased standards for my writing. When I first started, I was happy to be writing anything at all and I wasn't overly concerned with the level of quality involved. However, as I continued to write each and every day, I realized I had to step it up and shoot for something better. If I feel I'm not capable of writing something good, I tend not to write anything at all. When I do end up writing something that I feel is subpar, I feel badly about it. I don't feel like I've honored the commitment I've made.

Maybe I would write better if I didn't put so much pressure on myself. Sometimes you might just have to write and write and write regardless of whether or not you think it sounds good. These things can be edited. That's the great thing about the medium. You don't need a final draft right away--or necessarily ever. I'm not looking to get published here. I can write and rewrite as many times as I want. There's been only one instance of me rewriting a passage on this blog and I think it turned out really well. I'm not sure why I don't do that more often. I think I like the idea of moving forward and getting a colossal rough draft before I do that--but is that really the best way to go? I'm just not sure.

Melt (Day 278)

Now that I've gotten my first paycheck and I'm closing in on taking care of some of my debts, I need to start thinking about a budget for myself. Once I'm on my feet, I'm going to have to start paying for utilities like electricity, water, and internet. I'm not entirely sure how much that's going to cost me or if I'm even going to be making enough money to feasibly support myself. My first paycheck was for only $352, which covered 50 hours of work. I think on average I'll have more than 50 hours over a two week period, but it seems like in this case a conservative estimate would be best.

Let's assume I make $700 every month. I hope this doesn't turn out to be the case because that's quite a bit less than what I was expecting, but again, it's best to be conservative here. The main problem I have with drawing up a budget is that I don't know a lot of the specifics on how much each bill will amount to. Once I get my cell phone reconnected, I'm probably going to be paying $62ish a month if I add the line to my mother's account. Electricity could be anywhere from $100 to $300 depending on usage. I'm not a fan of the variability there. Internet service is going to run me about $65 and water $10 to $15.

Let's add up all the quantifiable expenses I can think of here:

Cell Phone: $65

Internet: $65

Electricity: $200

Water: $15

Car Insurance: $75

Total: $420

This leaves me with $280 for other expenses for the month. This means I need to take care of food, gas, and recreation with this cash. It costs me somewhere around $50 to fill up my tank and I could most likely get by with only one full refill per month--although it would probably me smart to allocate at least another $10 just in case. Food is somewhat trickier. I'm currently eating out way too much and I already know I'm spending way more money than I should. I could get by with much less, but convenience so often trumps cost effectiveness in this case. I will have to do some research on how to prepare meals cheaply at home and at work.

I could go ahead and allocate funds like this:

Food: $120

Gas: $60

Other: $100 or whatever is left

I feel like I'm probably missing something important--and even though my meager funds seem to be able to cover my expenses, anomalies will occur. In these first few weeks, I'm definitely going to need some help because I still have other expenses I need to take care of. I still have to get my car licensed and the taxes paid for as well as getting a new key made since I seem to have lost the old one. . . 

Alone and Together (Day 277)

I have the next three days off! It was my intention to be as productive as possible during these three days, but my plans are so often completely pointless. The only thing that's set in stone that I plan to do is work on getting my vehicle insured, licensed, and the taxes paid for. Once that's taken care of, I probably won't have much money left. If it costs too much, I may have to put it off. I'd like to get it done right away though, if at all possible. I'm really appreciate of my uncle for letting me use his vehicle for the past few weeks, but I'd love to be able to drive my car again. This is not only because I'd have access to it any time I want, but because it's--well, it's mine. And that means something. Having something that's completely mine just makes me feel a little bit better about my life.

I also have a nice stereo in my car that supports Bluetooth--meaning I can play whatever music I have on my iPhone over my car speakers. For the past several weeks I've been listening to my uncle's Sirius XM radio on the only station I felt I really enjoyed on any level, Alt Nation. Most of the stuff played on that station is still pretty mainstream, but most of it is pretty listenable, even if it's not normally the kind of thing I'd seek out on my own. One song in particular has really stuck with me--a song called "Shark Attack" by Grouplove. It is super catchy. I've been considering listening to more of their music but I'm feeling lazy for now.

I've also had some half-baked plans for the past little while now to do some serious cleaning in this house. I just don't know where to start. This place is a mess, but I don't know how to deal with it. It's an overwhelming amount of work and I think some of the problems just aren't solvable. It almost seems more realistic just to make sure the place is livable. I wish I could hire a consultant to solve this issue--although I think such a person might just suggest burning everything to the ground in an effort to purge the area of filth. I don't wanna do that. I'm reasonably pleased with the way things are now or at least I'm complacent. I'm not surrounded my mountains of trash, but carpets need vacuuming, floors need cleaning, and clutter needs to be stored. I just don't know where to put this stuff or what to use--and I don't really have a very good vacuum cleaner. I really should enlist help from someone. Oh well.

My grand plans are most likely just going to devolve into playing a lot of video games and watching Bob's Burgers/It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia/anime. That generally seems to be what happens in most situations. I might try to play some more Final Fantasy X tonight or tomorrow, but I'm honestly more interested in Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden at the moment. I'll likely have some more to say on one of those games tomorrow afternoon/evening.

A New Sun (Day 276)

I need to read more. Maybe that's what I should concentrate on doing during my lunch breaks instead of playing my 3DS. I could of course always make time for both, but I haven't been in the mood for Bravely Default lately and I've beaten everything else I have--and honestly, I'm still just borrowing that game. I think the fact that I haven't been reading anything at all has really taken a toll on my writing skills, particularly when it comes to descriptive language. I know I've written recently about how I should draw to work on that skill--but really that would just be a visualization exercise. Sometimes even when I can visualize something completely I still can't describe it in any satisfying way.

The last book I read was The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and I'm ashamed to say I never finished it. I have no idea why. It's a fantastic book and I was really into it. For some reason, though, I just completely stopped reading it. I think starting tomorrow I'll try to finish it up during my lunch break (or at least make significant progress). After I get done with that, there are a few other books by Maruki Harukami I could try reading. Alternatively, I could look for something else, but I don't have a clue where I would start looking. When I was younger, I read exclusively fantasy. I'm not opposed to reading more, but it's difficult to find something that appeals to my particular tastes. I don't have much of an interest in A Song of Ice and Fire, for instance.

I keep visualizing these characters in my head and I feel like I could see them perfectly--but I don't have the words to describe them. For someone who wants to write, that's not a great thing. I need to search elsewhere for inspiration. I can't expect to play video games and watch anime all day while reading nothing and expect to be able to express myself in an effective way. Still, though--I started this blog at a time when I wasn't doing any reading at all, and for a long time, I made frequent and consistent updates to my story. Reading is definitely going to help me, but it's not the only factor interfering with my creative process. Something else is going on here.

I think when I was running on a regular basis I felt more inspired on average. I don't have a concrete explanation for that, but running does have a way of clearing one's mind. It also forces me to lose myself in thought, to be introspective. These are the kinds of things that are conducive to the writing process. It's just strange. I have this picture of a character in my mind. She has dark hair, dark eyes, and bold eyebrows. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes are spaced far apart. There is something about her that could be accurately described as "sturdy" but she is not at all unattractive. But even that description doesn't do it justice. What is she wearing? I have no idea. How tall is she? Maybe a bit taller than average. Personality? Not sure, but it's safe to say she's tough.

Imaginary You (Day 275)

I have experienced a great deal of Emotions today, most of which I find difficult to articulate in any meaningful way. I'm glad I have a job and I'm even glad to be getting out of the house. I'm stressed because I'm afraid of losing that job and also because the amount of things I have to learn is pretty overwhelming. I also greatly dislike being put in situations where I have to explain things to customers that I don't completely understand myself. If I were to tell someone something that was completely wrong and find out about it later, I'd feel really bad. It's the fear that something like that might happen that contributes greatly to my stress on an average day.

There are so many procedures to follow, sales and interactions to track, and paperwork to fill out over the course of an average workday. I'm having a hard time dealing with it so far. I consider myself pretty good at internalizing large amounts of information but so much of it is being thrown at me all at once--and I have to apply that information constantly while also remembering to be personable and outgoing. These are traits that I can fake, but it does take some effort. If it came naturally to me, I think I'd have a much easier time of it. It's like I'm on stage and I'm struggling to remember a whole play's worth of lines that I'd only studied the night before. It's stressful.

It's not just that, though. I'm worried I'm spending too much money, particularly on food. I'm eating terribly unhealthy foods on a daily basis due to a combination of laziness and indecision. I'm breaking out because I'm sweating pretty much every hour of the day. It's the middle of summer and I have to wear a long-sleeved shirt and black dress pants. At home, I have no air conditioning so I'm pretty much running around in my underwear. It's still really hot.

I'm not enjoying my free time as much as I imagined I would be. In the past I've always really ritualized my free time and made a major point of making the most of it. Lately, I tend to spend my free time worrying about what I'm going to do on my next day of work. I wonder how long I'm going to keep this job. I wonder if I'm going to make enough money to pay off my debts. I wonder if I'm ever going to make something of my life. I wonder if I'll ever stop feeling empty. I wonder if I'll ever have friends again.

What happened? How did I get here? It's like I wake up every day and I wonder what bizarre series of events led up this. I'm 15 and in high school. I'm fat, miserable, and a social outcast. I'm 26 and I live in a house my mother owns. I'm fat, miserable, and a social outcast. I have a hard time holding down a job. I wonder why nothing ever changes. Every time I make a change I revert back to my old habits. I need to know that something has changed. I need to be in a situation where I'm not just waiting to fail. I need to not feel empty.

Dream is Destiny (Day 274)

Keeping track of all the pilots and robots in Super Robot Wars Alpha Gaiden is quite the ordeal, especially since the in-game glossary is unfortunately not translated. I keep thinking I have a good idea of the characters I'm going to be using consistently but each episode I get cool new units thrown at me. I'm surprised at just how many of the characters in the game are original creations. It's possible the earlier games in the SRW series had a lot of them, but in the case of SRWJ, the only original character is your protagonist.

I'm on Episode 9 now, the first mission were you're given the opportunity to have Masaki Andoh pilot his trademark Cybuster. This was one of my absolute favorite units in SRW: Original Generation and I imagine the same will be true here because his moveset looks to be identical. He has evidently been a part of the series since Super Robot Wars 2; which gives me hope for playing that game sometime in the future. I attempted to play the original SRW on Game Boy but I found it extremely dated, and that's coming from someone who just recently played through the first two Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest titles.

Quite a few of the original characters from this game went on to appear in Original Generation or Original Generation 2, including the aforementioned Masaki--but also Viletta in the R-Gun, Ryusei Date (who is currently piloting a Grungust but may acquire the R-1 later?), Ryune (Lune) Zoldark in the Valsione-R, and of course Shu Shirakawa in the Granzon, again an important antagonist. I imagine (hope) that Rai and Aya will show up in the R-2 and R-3 to complete the mighty super robot SRX. I'm intentionally not looking that up so as not to be disappointed or spoiled.

The Cybuster is so cool.

I'm trying to maintain a good variety in choosing which robots to field. In a typical mission I'm given about 15 slots for robots, so it gives me ample room to experiment. It's clear that some robots are just stronger than others, but I'm not trying to restrict myself to only the robots that are subjectively the most powerful. I'm using a combination of robots from series I'm familiar with and others whose designs (and attacks) I like. I wanted to use Duo Maxwell from Gundam Wing in his Deathscythe Hell Custom but unfortunately he only has only two attacks, neither of which are extremely powerful. His fellow pilot Quatre from the same series exhibits the same issue, with Wufei in Altron Custom not far behind. Heero in Wing Zero and Trowa in Heavyarms have a huge number of attacks at their disposal, on the other hand, including attacks that hit multiple enemies on the map. I suppose it's accurate to the anime in question, but it is a little disappointing.

I always liked Trowa's Gundam.

Although I've been watching a little of Mobile Suit Gundam recently, I know very little overall about the first few Gundam series. Super Robot Wars features characters from these series very frequently, with Alpha Gaiden featuring characters from no fewer than eight Gundam series, most of which I'd never heard of before. Amuro Ray, the protagonist of the original series is a playable character in Alpha Gaiden, although he's older than the character I recognize. I'm assuming it's the version of Amuro as he existed in Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam, whose protagonist, Kamille Biden, is also a playable character. I still think it would be cool to watch all of those series but I'm not sure I have the free time/focus to get it done.