2021

Well hi there!

Hello me, or you. Whoever you/we are, reading this right now. It's been a long, long while. Sit a spell and let me tell you about the last seven years. Aside from the pandemic -- we all know about that one.

Fair warning, this post is going to be a bit self-indulgent, but I promise (to whoever you are, for whatever reason) that they'll be more substantial later on. I realized, going back to read my old snippets here, that a lot of my writing is for me. I write impulsively, usually inspired by something that upsets me, as a way of parsing through the mess. Sometimes it has the nice side effect of actually being entertaining but mostly it serves as an emotional time capsule; reflecting back on what I was thinking and who I was at the time is fascinating, and probably a lot more interesting for me than it is for you.

If you reading this is not me, I mean. If you're me, that last line makes a bit less sense.

The problem with this of course is that I end up only writing when I'm in trouble.

Commercial: Take Care Of Your F*cking Kids.

Wide shot of a woman standing on the sidewalk of a moderately busy city street, holding her 8-year-old daughter's hand, as she looks around for someone. The camera goes in close on her face, lighting up with recognition.

"Ooh, ooh, Mr. Scorsese."

We see, on the opposite sidewalk, Martin Scorsese, who looks around a bit bewildered. "Me?"

The woman runs up, daughter in tow. "Yes, hi, could you please watch my daughter for me, for like two hours? I'll be right back."

"Uh, but I don't even--" The mother forces her daughter's hand into Martin's.

"Oh, thanks, you're a big help. Love your work."

She hurries off screen. With the two of them left alone in frame, the little girl stares up at Martin Scorsese expectantly, who looks back at her with discomfort.

Voice-over announcer: "You wouldn't leave your children with a stranger."

On-screen caption reads the same in large letters, with the smaller tagline below: "Take care of your f*cking kids," censored out for emphasis. "A message from (some organization against the censorship of movies, games, and music by whiny parents who want the government to protect their children for them)."

Mobius

"You found a bug, and you thought you could fix it."

"Yes, of course. That's my job."

It shook its head. Or, maybe, where its head was, probably. "When will you ever learn? What you do is not who you are."

I shrugged. Why didn't that bother me as much as it should have? "I'm not sure what else I've got. This is all I am."

"Another mistake. This is why you're still here."

I scoffed. "So that's all this is? You're going to keep knocking me over the head with your bamboo cane until grasshopper can bullshit his way out of this mess?"

"I suppose that's a start."



With a jolt, I open my eyes. That sudden elevator feeling of falling, or slipping, or missing a step. I'm back in my bed, again. I can't exhale a sigh deep enough to expel all the resignation I feel, or have felt, or have always been feeling. I'm not really sure what tense is appropriate here, and I apologize. I didn't get the best marks in atemporal grammar.

It's 3:14 in the morning. That's how I know I'm still here.

I toss off the blankets, make my way across the room, and peek through the blinds leaking twilight into my apartment. That sounds pretty good, I think. I'm not sure exactly when twilight officially is, but I'm better at being poetic than at knowing random trivia. It's passable, at least. Does anybody really know what time it is?

The city. Its silhouette is like the corpse of a god, barely stirring in protest, insisting that it's not dead after all. The first few hundred thousand times I saw it, I was at least a little impressed. For a while, I even got bored of it, before I made up ways to be interested in it again. Now it just reminds me that it's still today. That I'm still stuck in this recursive loop that I've written myself into.

While it is today, I return.

2013

I haven't posted anything since November due to NaNoWriMo, which I'm proud to say I finished for the first time ever. But I haven't had an excuse not to post for about a month and a half now, so here I am putting something down, because that's the foundation of writing. Seeing Kyell Gold tweet-and-journal about his new book, and being flown out to FC for signing, motivated me to think about my writing and the direction I want to be going in this year.

I don't want to fall into the same trap of making resolutions and not sticking to them, so I'm just going to post some things here to commit them to digital stone. When they exist in the real world, outside of my head, they impart a greater sense of urgency and accountability.

1. Draw more. I've been pretty good about this recently, but I've been slowing down since my last finished thing. I have a sizable backlog of commissions and personal ideas, so there's no reason not to be working on something if I have time after school obligations. I should be able to finish at least one thing a week.

2. Write more. With two short stories I want to finish for the 2013 Rainfurrest anthology by the end of February, and the rest of Burning Bright (NaNoWriMo) to complete, there's plenty to work on right now. I'm going to shoot for a weekly thing here.

3. Get back in the gym. I've been doing this again too, and I'm really happy about it. I've been doing more research, trying to take a proactive approach rather than just being committed to going through the motions. Which helps in sticking with it, but not at all at making progress. To give it a solid number, I feel like 160 is a reasonable Summer goal weight. I'm currently floating around 145.

4. School, work, friends. In that order. I've never been this busy in my life before, and I'm actually feeling really good about it. Hybrid classes this quarter and hopefully a part-time job, to slowly ease into things. My brain seems to like that better, rather than just polarbearing into it. I haven't gotten that Wanderlust yet. That's a good sign.

I'd say that about sums it up for now.

1. Post art every week.
2. Post writing every week.
3. Work out.
4. Life stuff.

That sort of degenerated into a Brian McKnight-esque list of instructions.

Interview

The wolf sat back in the chair, folding his hands over one crossed leg without once looking at the resume on his clipboard. It had always been slightly disarming whenever it had happened to him in the past, and he decided it was a good tool in seeing applicants' reactions. "So tell me a little bit about yourself."

Unflinchingly, the bull smiled a good-ol'-boy smile. "I'm hardworking, you can count on that. Nothing fazes me. I'm good at handling lots of things at once and keeping a cool head about it."

"What makes you different from everyone else I'm meeting with today?"

He paused. Not so long as to create an awkward silence, but enough to show that he had given it some consideration. "I combine a unique blend of serene strength with unwavering determination. Put me to a task, and I'll get it done, no matter what it is."

Though the wolf had already combed through the resume before, he adjusted his glasses and made to skim over it nonchalantly. "I see you have a solid work history. But what can you tell me about the most difficult personal challenge you've faced?" That was always a tough one.

The bull leaned in, hunkering down over his lap with his elbows on his tree trunk thighs. He exhaled softly before he began. "I was just a calf at the time. My grandparents had taken me out on a long road trip, and they were having an argument. The kind you think's gonna tear 'em apart. Maybe literally. My grandfather was threatening divorce. But you know, I just stayed level and did my best to mediate, and calmed 'em down. Talked 'em out of it. They later told me they were surprised by my wisdom and clarity." He chuckled softly, sitting back upright with a comfortable smile. "To be honest with you, I was too."

"That's great," the wolf responded mechanically, fidgeting a bit with the clipboard. He hadn't expected the bull to be that personal. "Lastly, what's one thing that worries you about this position?"

The bull clenched his teeth for the briefest of moments before answering. "You know, people have the misconception that bulls are quick to anger. I'll be straight with you, I've got a mean streak, and it runs in my blood. Man's gotta be honest about things like that. But I don't let it get in the way of business. It's gonna be tough trying to convince people of that sometimes, but I think that's part of what's gonna make me great around here."

"Thank you. I think you'll be perfect for the job."

Dogs of War, Part 2

I grasped a handful of the tubes stuck into his chest. "How easily I could change that for you."

"And still, you don't."

Our supplies were limited, most of all our medicine and life support machinery. But I was not the only one of our number who wanted to learn the truth of this Banarii's claim, else he would have been left to die, his words unheeded, our blind obedience uninterrupted. Then it wouldn't matter what state our salves and bandages were in.

I released my grip on the plastic veins supplying him lifeblood. "You could have made it all up so that we would keep you alive."

"Banarii live and die by honor. If the war rages on, I should have no desperate need to cling to life."

"You call slaughtering innocents honorable?"

"There is no more virtue in claiming your neighbor's home as your own."

"These were blasted lands, unclaimed and inhospitable."

"Perhaps as perceived by your people. But I'm sure you didn't keep me alive to discuss semantics or matters of foreign policy."

I had only ever known the enemy to be uncaring, brutal killers. To meet and speak with one so capable of logical negotiation made me begin to wonder what else we were wrong about. I crossed my arms. "What do you mean, 'the war is over?'"

He sat up with a grunt, his granite countenance appearing stoic and unaffected. "Your king has perished, leading a suicide squad disguised as a diplomatic envoy."

"Did he succeed?" I heard myself ask the question before I could consider a more amicable way to phrase it.

"It remains unclear. But our capital has been decimated."

"And, so, what, you've been trying to get the word out? Wandering into every outpost you encounter?"

He coughed and cleared his throat, making a sound like slinging a sack of bricks over one shoulder. "It became apparent that we had underestimated you humans. You have a will to fight and survive like no other opponent we've faced. Even when our seat of power had been overturned, your smaller isolated camps continued to persist, launching small waves of skirmishes against our surviving forces. My superiors didn't believe me when I insisted that perhaps it was because many of you still did not know what had transpired. They accused me of being sympathetic to the enemy and I faced execution for treason. I bargained for my life, choosing exile over death, so that I could spend the last of my days helping to end this war."

My head swam. I did my best to maintain my composure, but a gale force storm of emotions raged on behind my clammy exterior. It was hard to believe what he was saying, but it had that undeniable feeling of rightness. I had never been a god fearing man, and now I was faced with the toughest test of faith in my life.

"Let's say you're telling the truth."

"And I am."

"But let's just say. Am I supposed to have my men pack their bags, tell them we done did a good job, and everyone can just go home now?"

"Do as it pleases you, human. There is no more fighting to be done."

"There will always be something to fight for, somewhere."

I saluted him, switched off the life support machine, and left the medic's tent to tell the troops that the Banarii mongrel had finally bit the dust.

The Greatest Honor of All

The dust settled, and I realized I was unscathed. I looked up at the Gargoyle towering behind me, his wings unfurled to form a protective barrier. He had a few new scars and bruises, but he seemed unfazed, as always.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He rumbled with a low chuckle. "Of course. Are you?"

"I think so," I offered. There was an ache in my spine, a familiar chest pain, and a ringing in my ears that still hadn't gone away. I told him so.

"Nothing that won't heal in time," he assured me, dusting off his thick stony arms. We were both covered with a thin layer of ash from the explosion, and the aftershocks had loosed debris all around us. The Gargoyle caught the look of hopelessness in my eyes as I surveyed the damage. "And we can clean all this up, too." He began to pick up the pieces.

I shook my head, nearly on the verge of tears. "It's too much. Why bother? We should just leave and start over somewhere new."

"But you like it here," he said matter-of-factly, cradling an armful of rubble.

"I can't keep doing this all by myself." I felt stupid and childish as soon as the words passed my lips. Had I always been this whiny?

He chuckled again. "You don't have to do anything alone. I've always been here, you know."

I plopped onto the floor cross-legged as he cleaned up the disaster zone around me. "Well, yes... but, I only just realized it. And it's not the same."

"No?" He perked up from his work to look at me with his fluorescent blue eyes and a craggy smile. "I'm hurt," he laughed, before going back to gathering.

"It's not as good, anyway," I insisted. "We can't... you know."

"Mmhmm. But is that really necessary?"

"Sometimes it feels like it."

He dusted his hands off in thunderclaps, having cleared away most of the wreckage, and sat down beside me. "That's the kind of thinking that usually gets you into these sorts of messes in the first place, you know."

"Do I just suffer with it, then?"

"Embrace it," he replied immediately, with a small shrug. The Gargoyle scooted closer and wrapped his fluffy tail around behind me. "Now that you're aware of my love for you, remember that you will always have it."

I leaned against him, wracked with utter despair and frustration. "It's still not the same."

He gently lifted my chin with a single claw so that I could look into his calm sapphire eyes. "That's the best part."

Inspired by Alanis Morisette's new single, "Guardian."