I used to stay up all night playing ‘Resident Evil 2,’ and it wouldn’t stop until the sun came up.. Then I’d walk outside at dawn’s first light, looking at the empty streets of London, and it was like life imitating art.. It felt like I’d stepped into an actual zombie apocalypse..

~Edgar Wright

We keep trying to escape this reality; is that because this reality isn’t good enough?  No, not at all.

It’s just that we keep realizing this reality’s deficiencies.  Carl Sagan said, “It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.”  And that’s true.  But…

It’s terribly damn arrogant to think we understand the Universe; and silly to think that the Universe puts a whole lot of effort into understanding us. I’ll be honest; it took me something like two years to figure out exactly how I liked my morning coffee. It took me ten years to realize that my morning tiredness wasn’t natural, but rather that I am already producing internal stimulants, and more caffeine was just a sign for my body to slow down. We seem to think that a small portion of a human lifetime is enough to tell us what’s “real”; it’s possible that no amount of human lifetimes would tell us what’s “real”, because Reality might not chose to be pinned down.

Friends, the world around is is malleable; and that doesn’t mean that it’s about to collapse, it means that even the most difficult times aren’t always as fierce as they appear. We are human beings; we are not slaves of destiny, we are not machines, we are not non-sentient programs (we might be sentient programs, but if we are, who cares?).  We change the world simply by existing within it.

That’s part of what Villainy says: “If we’re going to believe in a world full of monsters, shouldn’t the monsters be compelling and interesting, rather than banal and soul-destroying?”  This is what Zombies say: “To hell with your day job, this I-may-get-eaten-at-any-time world is more ALIVE.”  That is what every story of post-Apocalyptic survival says: “Forget the insipid joys; a real joy should be able to exist in the face of nearly complete destruction; it might even arise out of that destruction.”

We are beings of imagination and creation.  Go ahead, try to tell us what’s “real”.  We’ll fight back with a reality ridiculous and implausible, a reality flawed in every way except…

…except that as humans, we can make it real.  And that is Villainy and Renaissance Faires and zombies and Goth and Rocky Horror…but it’s also cell phones, computers, video games, and a basic understanding of history.  Reality is much less limited than anyone thinks it to be; Moore’s Law alone proves it.

We’re humans.  Our only limits are imaginary, and we can break imaginary rules any time we want; ask anyone who’s ever played Dungeons and Dragons.

Never let Reality hold you back.

Numb

My head is filled with a million thoughts,

I am so far from being caught.

My heart is void and numb

the pain of being different has become.

I am mocked each day by my family,

they do not like me anymore,

ever since I started to actually be me,

and control my life.

I wonder how I can go back to who they want

when I am numb.

My emotions are so far away

I cannot seem to feel today.

I am in a state of nothingness,

where I feel no happiness.

I feel so numb inside,

I just want to run and hide.

I don't know how to escape

this feeling of numbness and hate.

I am tired of being numb,

I just want to feel something.

I want to feel alive and free,

to be able to be me.

Quiet candle, whispering thoughts, noisy cars, and ruminations of reflections about reflecting reflections... What is it for? It was created by me, and I don't like it. I don't like me.

I don't like that you don't want me to know you.

I don't like that you accepted me to have nothing to do with me.

I don't like that you added me to your collection.

I don't like that you make me watch you torture yourself.

I don't like that you push and pull with nothing at all but a smile and busy fingers.

I don't like that I like you.

I don't like that I am not enough.

I don't like the me you reflect.

I don't like that you don't treasure me.

I don't like that you make me feel like you don't care some days while moving the world for me on others.

I don't like that you say you don't want me to change.

I don't like that you say you don't want me to do anything different.

I don't like that you tell me to go away like the others.

I don't like that your space does not include me.

Ruminations of reflecting ruminations of year of dribble, a year of drab, a year for me that I allowed to become a year about you.

You didn't let me know you could see me.

You didn't let me know you thought about me.

You told me you listen and I told you I do too, but at the end of the day my listening was less to you than yours.

You wanted something you chose not to let me give you.

You said you wanted things that you had, but didn't want to keep.

You keep looking and looking for something in your pocket, only to change your clothes.

You don't see me the way I see me.

You see me the way you see everyone else, less than you.

I abandoned myself, like we all do.

I lied to myself, like everyone does.

I chased you, the way we are supposed to.

You turned on me, the way you do.

You chased me, when you felt like it.

You confused me, because I confused you.

And in the end I fell, wondering, waiting, hoping the plans for December...

Naive Cishet Steve couldnt believe,

That folk out there wished him grievous harm,

Simple Cishet Steve began to grieve,

As this was cause for serious alarm.

So Cishet Steve, he did conceive,

A plan as wily as it was daring,

Yes Cishet Steve, he'd earn reprieve,

And stop minorities and strangers caring.

Thus Cishet Steve, he did achieve,

This goal in a delightfully, dastardly way,

Yes Cishet Steve, on Christmas Eve,

Announced he was actually, tremendously gay!

Then Cisgay Steve, more cards up his sleeve,

Had one more rotten old fib to tell,

Cisgay Steve, on Christmas,

Said he was a woman called Ruth as well.

Yes transgay Ruth, it's God's honest truth,

Nothing you'd say could cast any doubt,

He's transgay Ruth, since his youth,

That's what his weird behaviour was about.

But transgay Ruth, followed by a sleuth,

Well, to know when to quit was a trait she did lack,

And transgay Ruth, hours in tanning booth,

Came out swearing blind she had changed race to black!

So blacktransgay Ruth, slightly tipsy on vermouth,

Revealed to a mate that it was all a crazy lie,

And blacktransgay Ruth, characteristically uncouth,

Said "I want to be a victim" when asked the reason why.

Again now Cishet Steve, in trying to deceive,

Is reminded of his privilege every waking hour,

And silly Cishet Steve, unable to perceive,

That in many small ways he has his private power.

Wake up at nine,

And on I sign,

Job centre rule,

Cos I'm no fool.

Keep up pretense,

That I've no sense,

Brave it outside,

No place to hide.

There's no real use,

I'm too obtuse,

I don't fit in,

I'll never win.

So play along,

It might seem wrong,

But no right way,

To earn blood pay.

Everywhere I go, the number 23 sticks out to me like a sore thumb. For instance, if I was taking a math test, the number that would stand out to me would be 23. The first time that I actually noticed this was happening was 2 years ago, when the number stood out to me three times in three different places. It wasn't until later that I realized that the number had been sticking out to me for years. Sometimes, I think that something good will happen to me on the 23rd day of the month, but nothing too special has happened on those days. At one point, I thought that 2023 would be a great year, but then again nothing good has happened. If anything, I would say that messed up more this year than before, but still, I have learned a lot of new things this year. Because of how many times I've seen '23', I feel a sense of comfort whenever I see it. I'll be having a bad day, and then I'll see the '23' somewhere and remember that's it's okay and that I'll be alright. Maybe when I'm 23 I'll have the best year ever. Whatever the reason '23' keeps appearing, I will always think of it as something good to come.

An ever encompassing truth,

That death fervently follows life

Hollowed out and urging inward

It disrespects time with ardent faith

This I know, in truth, as inescapable

And bountiful as never ending sorrow

Reclusive, as existential dread insists

We are the ever ending night…lost

In this, we are the blank spaces

We fill a sentence with meaning

Given faith alone, we must thrive

And, touch the skies, as we dream

To see and know, to touch and feel

We pulse with meaning, as time escapes

Sense the moment, and exist within

We are the blank spaces…

Oh little CiCi,

Won’t you play with me?

We‘ll have a tea party,

under the Cherry tree.

Oh yes Mommy,

I want to play with you.

We’ll have some cookies too,

at our tea for two.

Oh sweet Angel,

Why don’t we roller skate?

We can skate away,

into a brand new day.

Oh how I love you,

My little darling Ci.

It’s just you and me,

it’s perfect anyway.

Although I have seen,

Perish

And those who have

Perish

I try to write every day

-

And I perish

Planning a step over an unsafe board by a construction-site on a sidewalk while facing pedestrian traffic, said Mister Schtel, it is important to note that if you do not succeed in your endeavour to minimize the risk of the board disturbing another pedestrian, it will look as if you would have planned for your step to make the board wobble in such a way as to strike another pedestrians foot.