Journal

I’m feeling good; I’ve got a project to work on again – a private one, not a professional one – and it’s got me excited, which, in turn, has lifted my spirits considerably. It’s even made my back-ache manageable and given me some energy while I’m unable to train. All together good developments I should say.

After a few weeks of really rapid development and many brainstorm sessions with Robin, we’ve come upon the part where most of the thinking has been done and most of the grind needs to be taken care of. Adding content, mostly, while looking ahead to the next challenges. There’s still so much to be done, so much to be made, torn down, restructured and evaluated. We’ve got a few contacts populating the Seattle sprawl who will sell you a few goods, offer you jobs, get you in contact with others or are able to help you improve your character. We’re drawing our inspiration mostly from our own Sunday evening game but I’m not entirely sure how long we can keep that up since our campaign has a flavour that can’t be captured in a browser game.

We’ll likely have to be very careful with how much money a runner can earn, what the prices of items and training is going to be to balance incoming and outgoing cred. I’d like to think that with the right tweaks we could prevent inflation and the destruction of the economy. This becomes especially important when characters start trading weapons, drugs, items and accessories between themselves.

I do admit that I have some suspicions that we might run into legal issues with Catalyst Game Labs if the game becomes popular. I have no intentions of making any money off of this game so it should be alright – especially if you consider there’s been a few Shadowrun MUDs running for a while and I don’t think it’s all that different. Hopefully they’ll see it as a positive tool to promote Shadowrun.

We really have to keep ourselves from getting too excited about this thing, especially when it comes down to over stretching ourselves on our goals. We need to remain conservative, finish what we start before moving on to the next item. With our excitement to tackle everything at once we run the risk of not finishing anything. Luckily, we’ve got some smart people interested in beta-testing for us and I’m sure they’ll point out any flaws and security holes sooner or later. :)

An acquaintance of an acquaintance I know through work had been trying to have a child for a very long time, but sadly it never worked out for him and his wife. So he decided to adopt. During the adoption procedure a miracle happened and his wife became pregnant. They decided to adopt the child anyway, feeling up to raising two children together. The child was born and healthy, but they had to leave it in the care of their parents as they had to pick up their adopted child from its homeland; Haiti. Can you feel the conclusion coming? Yes, they both died on Hiati as the earthquake hit. So not only did they not manage to adopt an orphan and become the kid’s parents, their own child is now an orphan as well. How bloody, bloody ironic and sad.

So now, apparently, I’m a liar. I’m a liar because I have been busy lately – too busy to call or write an e-mail, but I’m not busy enough to pick up a friend from the airport. Yeah, never mind the fact that I was busy because I wanted to pick this friend up from the airport. Never mind the fact that calling or replying to those e-mails drains me of all energy and take up more time than I care to invest consider how I get absolutely nothing out of it except raised expectations, more demands, conversations I don’t want to have and questions I don’t want to answer. Sure, I’m a liar. Fuck you. You’re destroying any possibility of friendship. When was the last time you told any other friend that they were ignoring and neglecting you because you hadn’t spoken to them in a week? When was the last time you told another friend, repeatedly, how disappointed you were with them? When was the last time you questioned the motives, actions and reasoning of any other friend and crossed the boundaries of civility? When was the last time you accused, again, your friend of being a liar without having anything but assumptions and suspicions? And how many of these friends kept returning your calls?

Fuck you. Fuck your dysfunctions. Fuck your “love.” That’s not love, that’s dominion. And don’t pretend like I haven’t told you this before. I’ve been telling you that for years! Even if you read this, which I hope you don’t, I’d be surprised if your response to this would be any sort of self-reflection. Regardless, you need a little self-reflection and if the first words out of your mouth or by your hand are not “I’m sorry,” I don’t ever need to hear from you again.

So, I’ve split this up to make it more overviewable.

Mood.
I still don’t feel right. The lack of proper sleep has been affecting my mood a bit. I don’t seem to have control of my emotions like I used to have. I can’t regulate anymore. I either get angry, or keep it all inside. I can’t let it flow out when the pressure builds like I usually would be able to. Now, its like the floodgates open up. The few times I got angry these weeks I got furious, frothing at the mouth and shaking. The other day it was with my sister, and it was a harmless comment she made, which I overreacted to. I could control myself, more or less, untill I hung up the phone. Afterwards I proceded to shout at the phone in my hand untill my throat got sore. After calming down via gratuitous profanity, slightly, I was able to convey to my brother what had happened and he fixed it.

Dreaming awake.
My dreams have become more elaborate, detailed, nonsensical. I’ve always been a vivid dreamer, but its never really been this interesting. Its rare butsometimes they don’t exactly seem to stop when I wake up. Little things travel with me from the dream-dimension on occasion, sand in my hair or in my shoes, or bugs in my nostrils. (I had a dream that everyone stank, and the only thing I could do was cram two dead flies in my nostrils.) I still know whats real from fake, so theres nothing to worry about. Its just, interested. I see things less, but I hear more.

Voices.
I’ve been hearing voices as you’ve probably read. These only say my name, over and over again, like they’re asking me for my attention. These have grown more strong, sometimes shouting close to my ear. Also, they’ve become more frequent as my visual hallucinations have grown less. Compensation perhaps, maybe its a sort of height of the storm thing. Top of the peak, before I decline into the valley of normal, so to say.

Whatever it is, I feel better, yet worse. I feel different, which is a pleasant turn of events. I’ll keep you updated..

-Robin