Thursday, December 17, 2009

Long Lonely Night...

The cold is biting. Fridged air blows across my face, making me feel all the more hollow, as if it's blowing through me. The moon hides behind the thick dark clouds, enveloping the white, snow laden street before me in a shroud of black. I bow my head and stop my pace. I close my eyes. No difference. Closing my eyes, and opening again, it's the same: impenetrable darkness. It's as if the world has suddenly stop existing around me. I contemplate this thought for a moment. What if?

I shake my head at the notion, as my body again reminds me of the harsh chill through a quiver that runs down my back. The whistling wind continues to blow. A second more, and the light of the moon returns, a half crescent of hope. I return to my journey. The thought again comes to me. What if the world did suddenly stop existing? What would happen? What would cause it? It's hard for humans, like myself to picture themselves not existing, though, I'd suppose one couldn't. I'm press my brows together and stroke my chin, as I drift deep into thought. If I were to guess, it'd be much like this street, cold and alone, dark and emotionless.

I feel even more alone by this thought. I press tightly to my coat, and continue walking a quicker pace. I look at the carpet of purity laid before me, stretching endless off into the distance. It's untouched, and the only sign of anyone's presence are the footsteps left from my path. Again, I seem to be reminding myself of just how lonely I am, but I suppose that is the cause of my journey.

A Christmas party. Or was it something else entirely? I'm not sure. Now that I mention it, I'm not exactly sure from where I came. Amnesia? Surprised at my own unknowing, I look up in suspense. The wind immediately responds by removing my black cap, and carrying it off somewhere behind me. I turn and look back from whence I came. My footsteps lead off into the darkness, and it appears that my hat was carries off there, as well. I try to argue in favor of going after it, but it seems futile in the extreme darkness, and my body simply wants to press on. I feel that some poor lost soul will stumble upon the hat, and need it far more than I.

I continue once more on my journey, thinking back to why I set out in the first place, and from where. I know that it had to be someplace far warmer than this. Though I was not lacking appropriate attire, I was not dressed for an extended trek in this weather, by any means. Long black wollen coat, mittens, long, thick pants, and boots that leave deep imprints in the snow. From where I come continues to elude me, as though the thought is dodging my questions. I feel that I know from where I came, but I simply can not make of it. I tire from seeming complexity of the question. To where I'm going, I too, can not recall. A party? For what, I wonder. A time of celebration and joy, merriment and gift giving? What could there be to celebrate on such a cold, lonely evening and does seem that I, undeed, seem to be very alone. the darkness enshrouding my surroundings, as though they themselves are nothing but the dark. Alone.

The biting cold reminds me of just how alone I am. I look around more closely, but there still appears to be nothing but snow and darkness, aside from the half crescent moon, providing hope for this weary traveler. I walk calmly through the snow, leaving careful footprints in my wake. As I do, I come across a black cap. I stop and am a bit stumped by this one lone hat sitting in my path. I, again, look around, and there is no presence other than myself. I wonder what poor soul could have left a single black cap sitting in the snow. The wind blows through me as though I'm hollow. In need of more insulation, I kneel to retrieve the hat. As I do, the moon slips behind the clouds, and I am alone. Indeed, it's as though the world has disappeared. I ponder this notion for a moment. In the dark, I pick up the hat, and place it on my head. As I stand, the moon returns, and I continue my journey, with the thought plaguing my head: What if the World has ended?

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Long Sought Journey...

It's not a journey you take fool-heartedly. It's one that takes appropriate courage, and lunacy. A common cause of soul, and flesh; this thing we not of until we find it, sends us on this journey. A merciless voyage, wrought with peril at every turn. Not of mortal danger, but of something much worse: heartache. A pain so deep that it can not be mended by any medicines, and leaves a scar so deep that it can not be covered. This is but one danger we must face along this solemn campaign of the spirit.

We, however, need not face it alone. We shall make many a comrade on this trip, and that is the hardest part...

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Finding Peaches on the Moon...

It happened something like this...

We met. Not consequential, not without meaning.
Lost. Eyes, fires, and road signs.
Still looking. Frantically searching for that one true.
You. Standing there, 1,000 yard stare.
Dare. Yes, found, happy, safe.

I wish I could say that was it. Stream of consciousness poem? I'm not sure where to go from here, so I'll keep walking, off into the squandered light of a dieing star. Hell, rise up, for you'll find no resistance here. It's already lost...

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Not Without Meaning...

It's Sunday, the day of many's religious revivals before starting their week of sinful activities over again. I know not why I'm writing this. I should be celebrating, happy for my good fortune, but I know not why I have these feelings of regret. Not for my actions, but something deeper, as if I'm changing one other's winds of fortune. Why must it be this way? Can we not be passive observers, or must our observations always enact some force on the event?

Today is not a day without meaning, but it's one that I've yet to discover.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Check Your Ego...

It's not so much love, as complete and total infatuation. It's rather sad really. Sad in the sense that it's an almost inescapable infatuation. Inescapable in the sense that there's no point to. It's infested my life for the better part of 16 years. Why stop now, it has to end soon, right? Don't I wish. Granted I don't think I'm in one of those searing pains that occur when the world just seems to be coming down around your head. No, things are quite fine, actually. I have a job, which isn't currently in the most stable of situations, but it's there nonetheless. I have a car that drives, and again, it's not the most stable of cars, but it's there nonetheless. I also have the potential of going back to school, and then on to a full time University, but not yet completely secured. Dare I say that it's a pivotal time in my life, one that I could easily screw up. Dare I chance it on someone who pays no attention to me? No.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Don't Ask Me...Ask Yourself...

What am I suppose to do? Every time I do this to myself, it becomes harder and harder to not just go insane. I don't know why. Masochist is a word that I've heard thrown around to describe me. I guess it would fit. Why do I put up with all the shit when I feel like I'm being taken advantage of? Is it harder to brunt the burden than to just walk away. Would walking away really solve any of the issues here?

It's a problem with no easy answer. There are so many other opportunities available to me. Why do I deal with it? I keep coming back to that question. The same question, one that will stand for eternity. Why? The Who, What, When, and Where matter not. It's always that why that I get hung up on, and solving that is no easy task. It's not like I can really talk to anyone about it. The web of lies is wound so tight I'm choking in it, even though it's not even all necessarily lies. Half truths thrown about hap hazardly, little care about not only the moral consequences, but the mental consequences as well. Cold, lonely, and without a care in the world...

Sunday, November 1, 2009


It's not to be expected. In truth, what isn't expected is what often happens. It's a crazy thing. The world just one day falls apart. What comes next is anyone's guess. Regardless of what it is, they'd be right. As it just so happens, the world ends, not in disaster, but joy. It is a truly wonderful occasion by which everyone's dreams come true. Literally, each persons ideal world comes to life. An entirely new existence based on what they've always wanted. It has always been stated that the universe would always be replaced by something entirely more bizarre. Who knew the crackpots (geniuses?) would be right?

Abbey's existence is probably the strangest. No, strange isn't the right word. Normal? No, that won't work either. Simply, she wants everything back the way it was. It is entirely possible now that all those scientific laws, critical logic, common sense, and other sensible non-sense have been properly dealt with by being placed firmly in the proverbial (perhaps literal) trash can. It's a brave new world where in reality, there is no reality. Chaos has never been so fun...

Saturday, October 31, 2009

You are the Sun...

...and I am the Moon, and we are in this together.

It's been a bit since I last wrote to you. Sorry about that. Normally, I would lie and say that I was busy. In this case, I really was busy, no lie. Promise. Slowly but surely I've been getting my life together. Things are looking up, and while I may not be making the best decisions at the moment, I am doing my best a making a better future for myself. I really wish others would do the same. Sadly, I feel my words fall on deaf ears. I'll continue trying irregardless. It's my duty. Eventually, someone will listen.

I was told I'm in tune. I'm connected to those around me. I'm fairly good at interpreting emotions, facial expressions, body language. Some call it empathy (not to be confused with apathy...or is it the other way around...), but that's not the whole story. I find it easy to interpret those whom I share feelings with. I also understand that there are just some situations where I "just don't understand (sob)", but I do understand. I may not have the same thoughts, but I do know the emotion. Emotions are one of the few things that link all humanity together (though I'm sure this is debatable, as is all things). Love, hate, fear, joy, sadness, and confusion. At one point or another, all humans experience the full gambit. Only natural.

Speaking of this, I wish others were more empathetic to me. I feel like I understand most people I meet, but few, if anyone, understands me. Maybe I just act to guarded. I do have a hard time talking to people, and an even harder time telling even close friends what needs to be said. Not good. No, it's quite bad actually. I don't have all the answers, and this is definitely a perfect example.

Another perfect example of how I don't know everything: I Love Someone. Truly, I do. I've wrestled with the idea of Love, and what exactly it is. I've determined that it is impossible to describe, not because it's complicated, but because it's simple beyond any measure of the word. Love is Joy. You don't seek Joy, it just occurs throughout life. Eventually, you'll come to that one individual that produces that Joy. That is Love....

...I've found mine. The issue being that I don't know how to best express it to this individual. The situation is a perilous one. A chasm I'm tiptoeing through. See you on the other side?


Sunday, October 18, 2009


I spent a decent amount of my time learning several new skills. Skills I thought I needed to tell a story. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm using the right medium for it. Much like in the modding community, you choose an engine based on what you want to accomplish. You don't choose an engine without the ability to have drivable vehicles if you are planing on making a racing game. It just doesn't work, or if it does, it will create a lot of extra, and in my opinion, unnecessary work.

Well, as it turns out, I just wanted to write a story. One that I probably wouldn't normally write. It's come out a bit fantastical. No where near the norm of what I write, or even read for that matter. Well, I guess that doesn't matter much. Worth the trouble? We'll see the ending when we get there.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Soul Surfing...

I'm reaching for something...

I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen in the next few years. I've been gone far too long, and been a bit too lazy as of recent. It's not even that I'm not constantly inspired, but I'm not sure how to deal with the inspiration. It's almost too abundant (okay, that's a lie, you can never have too much inspiration). I am however feeling a bit over loaded as there are lots of ideas that I'd like to pursue, and I'm not the best at organizing and I'm the worst at tackling things one at a time. Going to work on it. Let's see if we can get this done...

Infinite Eights (Part 1)...

"I live in the shadow of a lie, one I try dearly to keep to myself, and fail to. 'Amor' echoes from the mere and falls deaf upon a lone vestige. A spire to your beauty, tall and partially overcome by the vines of your past. You reign supreme. A lone dove in that cage which keeps you from me and protects from the horrors of this world.

Awaken in this sea of sorrow and blood, I thrash in my helplessness, not a soul be saved. Served a hearkened goodbye, you turn and cast your eye upon another. Love's lessened not, and I drown in my woes.

You were beautiful, but you are ugly. I didn't know it then, and I'm still not entirely sure now. You were always so good at covering that up. The bit of blood in every drop of ecstasy that flowed from your mouth. They say that ignorance is bliss. Not so, when you are filled with the doubt that comes with it. You were a vicious vixen, brooding and beautiful. Truly, a poisonous flower; too deadly to touch, too gorgeous not to. I came away with my life, but you have left your scars. No longer will I be the same because of it. I am paralyzed from the love that the bleeding hearts drown in. It is my wound, not my only, and not my last. I guess I can thank you for this. Maybe caution is what I needed, and you have delivered in spades.

This is it. It's the wonderful end. No more love, hate, and broken bodies. I ends on the seams of new twilight. The sun has gone, and now a new light will come to char the world, painting the sky over our heads in crimson twilight. This ethereal event will be just the beginning..."

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Lust

"You were beautiful, but you are ugly. I didn't know it then, and I'm still not entirely sure now. You were always so good at covering that up. The bit of blood in every drop of bliss that flowed from your mouth. They say that ignorance is bliss. Not so, when you are filled with the doubt that comes with it. You were a vicious vixen, brooding and beautiful. Truly, a poisonous flower; too deadly to touch, too gorgeous not to. I came away with my life, but you have left your scars. No longer will I be the same because of it. I am paralyzed from the love that the bleeding hearts drown in. It is my wound, not my only, and not my last. I guess I can thank you for this. Maybe caution is what I needed, and you have delivered in spades."
- J. Davis

Sunday, September 27, 2009


I've made a few changes to the map since last writing about it. I've found a way to expand it beyond a mere 5 to 10 minutes to a good 15 to 20, I believe, but I won't be sure till I get it into a playable state. Unfortunately, it's still a ways off from that, but I've been making some, albeit small, progress. My biggest issue with it so far, and why my mapping progress has taken a nose dive is due to the fact that the story grew from something that was relatively simple, into something far more complex by trying to add in morality, a subject that has yet to be accurately explored by the medium up to this point. It certainly isn't easy to tackle for a single writer/mapper trying to write something that tackles a subject that the professional developers have yet to. Ambitious, sure, but not easy considering I'm trying to make this my first public release.

I will be spending the next few days going over and rewriting what I can, so that it will be a little more open ended. Perhaps I'll return to my original story arc, and leave this heavy issue for a later release, maybe after I've released some...

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


OneWebDay is a day when users of the World Wide Web are encouraged to show how the Internet affects their lives. It is held on September 22. The purpose of the event is to globally celebrate online life. The goal of celebrating OneWebDay each year is to create and make visible a global constituency that cares about the future of the Internet.

- Courtesy of Wikipedia

I would say, that the web has really expanded my life through providing me resources to learn, communicate ideas (regardless of other peoples value of those ideas), and share almost all mediums. In a lot of way, I think that last part is one of the best. Thanks to the web, people can access mediums and material that they might not have been able to access. I also know that not all are exactly happy about this ability, though I think that this ability will expand people's interest in the world, as it has mine.

Thanks to the web, I personally have read books I would have never read, seen classic films I might not have otherwise watched, and experienced and became involved in things that I would have otherwise be oblivious to. The web has changed the way I experience the world, and hopefully, I'll be able change the web for the better...

Monday, September 21, 2009


What we call progress is the exchange of one nuisance for another nuisance.

I can say that I finally, fully understand this quote. The shear amout of frustration that goes into making a seemingly simple map is mind blowing, as just making simple things like bathrooms, vents, windows that break when shot, exploding doors, areas of construction, etc. is a huge time sink. I spent the better part of my Sunday, adding the above, and I'm not even got a the *walkable sections* finished. I'm about 2/3 done with the walkable sections, but I've still got a substantial amount left to do, as the last third is the biggest, not to mention the detailing, texturing, and lighting that I've still got left to do on all of it. All of which will be for ~5-15 playtime on this map.

I am making progress on my project. I've finished the writing on one level, and a Prologue that I have added on to give some back story into the character and his past, as well as creating a "training" level to help learn controls. The level is almost presentable. I'd love to put some screens up, but I don't want to show anything publicly until I get done with the lighting phase, which is still quite a ways off. Then, when the level is in playable form, I plan on posting it on ModDB, and then start looking for a team. Honestly, though, I have to say I'm quite afraid to start looking for a team, due to issue that could arise when working with other people. I'm not sure if the slightly shorter development time would be worth the headaches and hurdles I'd have to overcome. I guess I'll find out when I get to that point.

*The walkable sections are all the areas of the map the player is able to travel to.

Friday, September 18, 2009


1. Formal lack of pattern or organization
“entropy increases as matter and energy in the universe degrade to an ultimate state of inert uniformity”
2. A measure of the disorder or randomness in a closed system.
3. A measure of the loss of information in a transmitted message.
4. The tendency for all matter and energy in the universe to evolve toward a state of inert uniformity.
5. Inevitable and steady deterioration of a system or society.
(Taken From []'s article "
Entropy, performance and gameplay" without permission.)

For the sake of this post, I'll be using the 2nd, 3rd and 5th definitions. The system will be any and all types of communication.

It is impossible to communicate at 100% efficiency, to convey the exact thought in which you are thinking. An individual's mind is too complex to generate the exact same complex thought in another individual without some variance occurring. It could be said then that this variance is something I'm calling "thought rot". The severity of rot is determined by the amount of entropy of any given communication system.

There is a variant level of entropy depending on whether the idea being conveyed is a logical or creative. In creative thought, the idea is abstract. In the verbal communication of any creation, there occurs a form of thought rot that deteriorates the idea, and it deteriorates based on each persons level of communication skills, as well as the number of times the idea is communicated.

This is why I think mods and projects that are created using more than 2 or 3 core people tend to not be able to progress to a finish, or finish with a more convoluted idea than the original iteration. When you keep a close, tight team (from my observations, and I could be wrong) the mod tends to actually come out, and come out closer to it's original idea (Minerva is one excellent example done by a lone mapper) than if it was released using a larger team.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


What am I to do? This wonderful feeling of being in mental and creative restraint is, quite plainly, driving me mad. Part of it isn't even the feeling of restraint, but rather the feeling of inadequacy towards my works. It's proving hard to get past. The feeling that everything you've done, and everything you'll do won't matter. It's like you're being dragged down, thrashing, but try as you might, there's nothing you can do that will prevent the inevitable.

It's something I'll have to ignore. I'll take a break and come back to it. Not, long, but just enough. Focus on other things, and work towards other projects. I'll come back when I start feeling better.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

End of Novels...

I'm surrounded by narration on all sides. Books, movies, games, fiction, non-fiction, fantasy, and reality. It's becoming harder and harder to write anything with every passing minute, as with each minute, a new story is being told somewhere. How can I write anything worth reading, hearing, seeing, or playing with the mass saturation of material that exists out there. Some of that material is very good, but most, is well... I'm not a critic, but quality is getting harder to find as well.

How does one write anything without treading on those that have came before, but still being interesting enough to read now. How does one achieve true originality that is so highly sought after, yet is so easily obtained by a select few.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

True Grit...

I've finally settled on a final mod project idea. I just kind of came to me, in a way. It's to involve a bright, clean art style, reminiscent of Mirror's Edge, but it will contrast highly with some of the "underground" areas which are to be far more grittier. I plan on creating an over arching story involving one main character, code named "able" and his handler "fish". I plan on releasing it in episodes, with the first few (more or less) to be written and produced by me, with subsequent chapters written by other writers (yet undecided).

More details to come, when I get them. I'm in the midst of writing the design doc and will have that available when it's ready (promise). Once the design doc is out, I'll be looking for interested parties to man the different positions in the team, but more on that later...

Back to work.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Ease My Mind...

Where do I begin. My issues are too numerous to mention. How do I avoid the inevitable breakdown of information.

First off, I'm having dreams, dreams which somehow seem more real than my waking moments. I've mentioned these before, but have yet to speak much about them. They feel so real because I have emotions, which I express with precision and intensity that I restrain in real life. I actively communicate my emotions to these entities in my dreams, causing them to react in very realistic ways, showing equal precision and intensity, and strangely, a passion that I've never seen in anyone real, or imagined. I almost feel more alive in my dreams than reality, which is quite a dangerous notion, I can assure you. Should I see this as a sign that I must show more emotion to the real life equivalents of those figures from my dreams, so that I may see the same passion in reality as in my head? If so, it has been quite an eerie sign.

Secondly, I've been frustrated out of my mind about how I feel like I am unable to communicate anything with any precision of effectiveness, due in part to my lack of a full vocabulary, but mostly due to my inability to catch the words that evade my grasp, in which I then spend many moments trying to regain. The greatest loss for me, is the loss of words. This happens all too often for me. Perhaps it, too, is a sign. A sign that I don't exercise my vocabulary muscle too often. Maybe this is just a small cramp that one gets when he first begins regular exercise of said muscle, one just like any other muscle. I will not let this deter me.

Blue Letter Day...

Not quite as productive as I would have hoped. Caffeine is once again the culprit. Couldn't keep awake long enough to act, not to mention that I couldn't form coherent sentences, which was my biggest wall. Do one thing that frightens you everyday is so much easier to say when you're not at that hurdle yet. Standing on the edge is the hardest part. When you finally jump, all you have to do is let gravity take it's course. All harder than it seems.

Better luck some other day? Let us hope. I don't have much more time.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Red Letter Day...

Today is it...

Know how people always say that, 'there is no time like the present', that 'now is the time'. 'Forever is composed of nows'. Well, for once, I'm making use of those proverbs. Today, I'm going to do something that truly scares me. No, two things that scare me. For it's only in the face of our true fears that we can say that we are actually living. Spiders, heights, dieing. These are trivial compared to Man's true fears: Success, Happiness, Love. If man weren't terrified of such fears, we'd have a better world. One where Pride would be a wall one must climb to see the face of true Romance, Joy, and Life.

Dare I say, Pride is one of Mankind's greatest enemies. Pride for one's country, religion, self. It's these things that lead to downfall. I shall overcome this hurtle, one that I've been faced with all my life, too afraid to jump, lest I fall. Today I shall dive into it with open arms, shouting "Geronimo!" all the way. It is truly an unprecedented day, indeed.

"Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero"

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Off Beat - 1...

Contained here within is transcribed the thoughts, hopes, and dreams of me and a friend.

I don't write poetry. Is Freefrom poetry? I don't write free form, but I do write stream of consciousness. Graduation is crap. Pomp & Circumstance. What is to stop us from doing the amazing. All of our friends have strange tastes in music. No stars out tonight, but plenty of bugs. Maybe a couple stars. Harvest moon. Brown moon. Human exploration of the stars. Nothing amazing since the seventies. If something causes physical pain, then you can hate it. I'm writing down our conversation. Awesome.

Weird cool poem. Cool. Yeah... Girls are horrible(?). There is no pleasing a girl when it comes to her weight. If they ask you answers, yes of no questions. Relationships suck. Relationships: Difficult to start, difficult to end. Richard has a big bed. Scott is too fried. Mosquito bitches bite. The End in the Beginning. Work sucks, make music. My brain is numb. On my own. Dryer sheets. One day it will end... eventually.

Caffeine Deficiency...

What do you do for energy when caffeine ceases to be potent enough to keep one's self awake. I'm on my second cup of some really strong coffee, and so far, it's not putting a brace on the eyelids. You can imagine then, that writing this is becoming increasingly difficult through closed eyes. Not that it's needed much. I'm pretty good at typing with my eyes closed. Lets see how long it can last. Not long, I don't suspect, since I'm anal about spelling things correctly.

So, I've been thinking awhile on a mod that I've been wanting to work on. I want to use the Source engine, since I have the most experience with it, it holds the most feature rich engine I know of, anit's widespread, and it's modulare, making it easy to work with. The problem begins with coming up with the story and design document. I've had several ideas, but none with the scope that I want. I know I want to tell a very in depth story, but don't want to have to do a lot of modification of the engine in order to accomplish my goals. I want to tell a story that is interesting, and provides a believable story, combined with some experimental story telling elements (such as having the main character's thoughts be spoken out loud, providing not only story telling elements, but also providing important gameplay information, such as their mental state). The one scenario I can think of is disaster survival, an area which few games have dared to tread. Brain storming session soon to come.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Haunting Clarity...

They say, before you die, that your life passes before your eyes. That you see the events in you life with greater clarity. What does it mean, then, if you see that in a dream. No, not a dream. It felt more like a vision. An event in my life which didn't happen, but feels more real than the room I'm sitting in right now. Not that 'real' isn't hard to fake, I guess. What bothers me the most is the haunting clarity that came with it. Enough to make me believe it was real. Enough to make me what to change my life because of it. Maybe it was real. Does that matter now?

Saturday, September 5, 2009

No Sleep...

Sleep deprivation is the best. You always feel like everything has greater meaning than it does. Perhaps it does have that meaning. It's as if you know you don't have much time (till you pass out from exhaustion), and that urgency adds a greater meaning to everything. I honestly don't know, but that's the closest thing to sense I get get from it.

This is Not a Blog...

This is a diary (pervert). This is a stream of consciousness ending in 8 on the side (ie. never). What it is, by definition, is what I choose to make it (oh the beauty of not having constraints). That side note reminded me of a teacher I use to have Freshman year of HS. She had us students (of which I was the only male...not as cool as it sounds) write whatever we wanted to. Didn't matter as long as we were writing. In a sense, she was correct. Writing absolute crap is much better then not writing anything at all, and as a direct side effect, some truly great stuff came out of it. Here lies the continuation of that idea. But like all good works of art (I'll let you be the judge), writing is defined by the viewer. I'm here to write. What comes out is largely based on what you see, I would guess. I'm sure some will think this nothing but rubbish, but who am I to say that they are wrong. At least, though, I am writing, creating, and doing something, and not telling others what they aren't doing based on my judgments. It's up to each individual to decide.

To answer the question your asking right now: Writers Block. I have the basis for several ideas on projects I want to pursue, but have yet to figure out how I should go about them. So, I plan on just laying them out here, dissecting, re-dissecting, and generally massacring them to itsy-bitsy pieces for all to enjoy...but more about that later. For now, I'll just let you wonder about all the joys on the way. I'll let this pot stew for a bit, and come back when you're ready.

For the joy of doing, and not the obligation.