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Communication is so difficult, sometimes. I've always come across as hostile, and one of my great secrets is that the perception isn't baseless. I generally AM somewhat hostile. But I'll laugh it off. "What? What look? No, I feel fine." while my mind seethes.

I don't feel obligated to explain myself, especially after so many years of mystified looks. But the end result of this is everyone feeling like I'm mad at them, all the time. It makes delicate negotiations nigh-impossible, and has likely led to me building a personality centered on aggression and intimidation, despite this being a piss-poor society to be violent in.

It makes the question 'Are you mad?' very tricky. Yes. The answer is yes, always. A better question is 'Are you mad at me', which is only slightly better because I'll still probably be mad at anyone for only being human.

I wish I wasn't this way, but it seems impossible to consider anything else. What happiness I find is carved out of the mountain of dumb bastards that made that happiness so much harder then it had to be. I begrudge every single person throughout the history of humanity who was anything less then all they could have been. Including myself. We all make everything so much harder then it has to be.
 
Jesus christ, I stop coming around for a few weeks and everything shifts. I missed one of my own lines coming in, there's an obvious child running around in blingee pictures, a whole new crop of dramallamas are mixing fluids in GD, and best of all, the stink of my past is skulking around again. Hello, Meagen. Are you still being astrally abused by the magical manifestation of my mental illness? Please do not take this as an invitation to talk to me. Just a reminder that you told people that I was a capital A 'Abuser' in ~-~Astral Battles~-~, only you left the last part off.

Seems I should stick around. At least until things are... Cleaner.
 
Please do. Very much appreciated having your presence here, Trygon. *thumbs up*
 
For sure, Try! I know I love having you around and I'm sure many others would back me up there. XD You're a great person and friend and I, for one, appreciate all you've done for me in the past. Plus, you helped build this place. Now how fucking awesome is that?? XD <333
 
I don't think I ask too much of someone for the title of 'Friend'. Be as honest as you're able, don't screw anyone without reason, and kick in what you can, so everyone can move forward.

There seems to be too much room for interpretation in those qualifiers. I know some people can't help but lie, but forgiving one lie does not give you a free pass to continue. I know some people need to be stepped on to elevate yourself, but there's plenty of assholes to use as stools. And I know you need to take care of yourself first, but I will expect me and mine to be thought of when I need a hand.

Excess is gross. If you have the resources to help others without crippling your own life, you should do it. End of. I always have, and I always will, but I feel what I give more and more. I suppose that's part of getting old. No matter. I will continue to grow myself and my abilities until I have the means to take care of everyone who needs it, or I die.

Today, I was given a piece of wisdom. The second great truth I've learned for myself. The first is still my favorite, 'The easy path is rarely the right one', as they are good words for anyone. This new one is just for me. 'Friends are nice, but all I need is Ourself.'
 
Getting old sucks. But at the same time, when you're even older, you are not required to do jack-fuck-all for anybody. You can even shit in your pants! So at least there's something to look forward to.
 
I try to help anyone when I can, even if it means giving them something as meager as a meal since I rarely ever have cash to spare. I don't have many "friends" who do the same...at least giving from their own pocket rather than letting their SO take care of it all. But in times like this it's just hard to find anyone generous unless they want to hold it over your head later like a few of my exes.

I have always depended on me since as long as I could remember, but it just makes me appreciate help from others even more.
 
It somewhat boggles me that this is where I feel most at home, where I feel well-known and I know others as well. Mostly because I was D-D-D-DONE with internet people as a whole when BMR came to be in it's current form. Probably why I culled the membership so harshly at first. I had seen every stereotype a hundred times over. Hell, to this day, I can sniff out a net 'suicide'. Thanks, Gaia, for teaching me that one.

And now, I find myself with people I had counted on scattered, either by circumstance or choice. I'm left with only my lady, a sometimes frightening prospect when I consider how mystifying much of my behavior is to her. I spend tracts of hours alone, with the games turned up louder then my mind. I have faith this is temporary, however. Soon, I'll have new fields to explore.

6/2/2015. One year, seven days left until I can be a full person again. About six years, five months that I've spent on BMR. This might be the longest I've ever spent on anything. Appalling and comforting, all in one. This journal has certainly taken on special significance to me. The person who wrote the first entries has become somewhat out of focus.
 
Well, if it is any comfort, the man and I should be moving out to the area next year. I'm always up to talking but I know that road goes both ways and such.

Your behavior is mystifying? Hmmm, I can see that from the standpoint of "love can be blind."

Things are always changing and few stay the same. Most things are temporary but I know you keep things of that nature in mind.
 
Madman's ravings? Sure, why not.

I often think of probability, what existence might look like from outside of us, and the passage of time. More related then you might think. I strongly believe that we are not an entity moving through time, but a series of signals in a greater program. To 'live' is to propagate in the nucleus of this brain, a small electric signal on a synapse, and move outward, choosing paths when forks emerge, until you come to the edge of the brain matter, where the passageways are thin and you sometimes go a long way without much in the way of works in the road. Eventually you run out of material to travel on, and your signal ends. We are, all of us, fleeting thoughts of something else. God does not have a Plan, God is Planning. The only question that remains to me is, are we all the same entity? Or are we individuals, restarting every time the signal ends, to choose new paths, to some unknown end? Either way, I strongly believe the end of a thought is not the death of the brain, and this has made me rather unafraid of death. I feel a raw animal response. I grieve when I won't see people that I care about any longer. But I don't truly believe they're gone. Not in a, off to heaven to dance with angels, sort of way. Nature hates leisure. Instead, I believe their paths may have diverged from mine (quantum immortality), or perhaps that they remain where they were in time, even as my sphere of existence passes out of contact with them.

All of this is relevant lately because I once again feel disconnected. My disease sometimes feels like a malfunction of the soul, like my electric signal is deformed enough to... Slip the track, sometimes. Dangerous. I sometimes feel like I could think myself into a death truer then any experienced by anyone else. But perhaps it's useful. Perhaps, if you rock the train just so, you can make it jump, instead of slip, and land in a parallel track. Perhaps everyone does this, but I simply have some awareness of it. Whatever the case, I sometimes feel like I'm moving sideways through life. Hearing things that weren't said here, responding to things unspoken by people unlived. I wish I could control it, purely. I could circumnavigate the tracks, maybe find one where I could apologize to a few people...

Such a journey might be hard to return from, don't you agree? Best not to think too hard on things like this. If I am touched with any insight, it is a minuscule droplet. Not enough to... Make a difference, or alter a river. Maybe enough to make some ink and take down this letter, though.
 
Even the smallest drop of water helped to carve out a canyon. Wouldn't you agree? And now people look upon that with awe and wonder. Just some things to ponder. It's all a fine balance...a slight nudge in a different direction and the outcome could be totally different. Use your gift...because that's what it is, not a disease or malfunction...it's you, thus a gift... it allows you to see things in a way others cannot. Go for the closure if that's what you desire. It's there for you to go for, so go for it...you can. If only everyone could be so fortunate. Stay true to you. Hasn't let you down yet. : )
 
It feels good to be a teacher again. The Queen and her host are a tangled mess, but they desire to learn, and balance themselves. For years I've gathered knowledge on the fragmented mind, and now I may have a chance to use it to light her way.

Today we discussed making the Queen take shape and speak. We also touched on summoning the Queen's opposite number, whoever that may be. Try and I find ourselves very curious about this especially. Nick has been quiet. I think he's intimidated by them. Can't say as I blame him, she's decked out in red flags, but it falls to us to correct that, much as we're able.
 
There's been an idea put forward.

In the past, my other selves stretched their wings in RP. It makes sense that I've had little interest since BMR came to be, as I started buttoning down the more flamboyant aspects of my personality around that same time. Now, though, we've began unbuttoning, and refilling the spaces we used to occupy. Try wants to talk, as himself, to people who are addressing him directly. What he has in mind is something of an RP - A setting, a story - But primarily conducted as a way for him to interact with someone that interests him, for the purposes of redefining where he sits in my mind. He would also be content to simply chat as we used to, the three of us directly to someone else who comprehends the separations between us and will address us individually.

So you see, this isn't the sort of thing I could make a request thread for - 'Entertain my violent alter-ego' is a hard sell. However, I'd imagine there's at least a few people here who may want to get to know us better, and answering questions or listening to his reactions helps us with definition. So, if you're interested in conversation, or you have questions, or perhaps you have an alter-ego that would like to speak as well, feel free to drop me a line. I can't guarantee it'll go well, but it should at least be interesting~
 
Sounds tough. I'd be more than happy to entertain Try if you'd like, I've always been curious about your personalities but can't say I know them well enough to differentiate. Or maybe I do but never have made the separation since it's harder for me to pick up things like tone in text. I read things the way I want to read them.

In any case, I'm always interested in getting to know my friends better.
 
In the scant four hours I've been awake, I've had $40 I couldn't afford to lose go missing, and then my roomie's car caught on fire right outside my door. While she was at work, leaving me to field the fire marshals. I have the smell of burnt plastic seared into the back of my nostrils from pulling as much of her shit out as I could before the FD arrived. I'm out of any decent form of weed (That's what the $40 was for! And then we were gonna use the car to go get a dimebag! Whoops!).

Try is loving this shit.
 
Seems Try got all his excitement out too early. Here I sit, on the upswing of one of the most intense acid frys of my life, and the goddamn blackscale is reporting errors on all systems. Oh well, Nick, it's you and me. Strap in.
 
Continued tests of my philosophy find it stronger every time. No matter how many times people betray my trust, the ledger keeps coming out black, balanced by good investments that pay out well. The dirty business sucks. Cleaning up people that thought they were smarter then me brings scorching waves of dragonfire through my brain, and I don't think I'll sleep tonight. I hope I do tomorrow.

It used to be easier to let the dragon roar, but these days my throat feels tight and my nerves spark like they've been burnt out. We bring it to bear all the same, but our easy grace is gone. For now. Try assures me this is precisely why he was upset with this form for so many years, but he's optimistic about... Technological prospects. Here's hoping. I'll keep laying groundwork. Work is being done, money collected, ballast jettisoned.
 
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