Bit of an update from tonight's entry from earlier.
I'm not going to put these in frames, these are just shots on the fly.
Welcome to New Xantis.
Or what's left of it.
There are stores empty.
Now, not everything is gone, as I'd thought--but looking through these quick shots, I'm thinking Jaimy left up the main connecting throughway between the sims on either side of New Xantis.
With this side connection, I have no idea what used to be here, but I'd suspect a major set piece with the large items for sale, which then connected to that upper walkway leading down into another sim. It's all gone.
And I didn't want to wait until they fully rezzed in, but from left to right, this is Anthony Haslage (Ntanel Swordthain), Melina Firehawk, and Kirk Wingtips. Swordthain seems heavily involved in Star Trek fandom groups in SL, Melina Firehawk is pretty much in every RP group you can think of (and I'd be willing to bet either is the sponsor for the Super Heroes sim at Sci Fi Con, or at least organizes for it), and Kirk Wingtips (who not only seems to run Sci Fi Con, but is either involved with, or runs SciFi Expo, so dubious on that connection for now, plus is in a lot of Firefly/Star Trek groups).
And then I cleared their airspace, potentially never to return.
It used to look like this. Now...that's all over. Because the organizers were abusive. This is a very bad turn of affairs.
I never knew my killer would be coming from within
I'm learning more as I'm dying
Sent to Twitter half an hour ago:
Well, this is upsetting. We got involved with Sci Fi Con this year in #SecondLife, and apparently, it's been SO mismanaged along the way, designers are starting to flee the sinking ship. Anyone from the Second Life Relay for Life team want to check on their charity status?
I'm dead serious. Anyone know who's in charge of the main SLRFL group? Because they need to seriously look into what's going on at Sci Fi Con, and into Kirk Wingtips' management of same.
Earlier, this notice came from Death Row Designs' lead maker, Jaimy Hancroft:
[16:43] Deathrowdesigns: Group Notice Sent by: Deathrowdesigns
Now, to understand how notable this is--Jaimy's one of the most unflappable designers I've ever known. But it's not just her. Stabitha of What's Lost Spirits designed a region for them, and she's also livid. I haven't heard what Walton Wainwright of Contraption fame thinks, but I'm nearly positive it can't be good, because at the last minute, he turned in a reconfigured Fantasy Faire sim, because Wingtips begged him, and the first thing they did was tear it apart and repath it, so...the giant mechs that walk about walk through the buildings now. No, if you've seen them do that, that was not Walt's coding; that was Sci Fi Con not understanding design.
sci fi con.....
DRAMA ALERT (1st in 12 years) we packed up our stuff at scifi con.
we've had enough of the bad managment. and they also banned us from their discord, for sharing a song (?)
we will have rfl vendors out still at scarlett bay to support RFL .
in our 12 years of doing events, scificon... took the cake .
we'll be back and lots of good events coming :)
Here's how bad it is, in case anyone wants to go and check: the New Xantis build at Sci Fi Con is gone. Entirely. She pulled up every single thing she owned and left because they were being treated so badly. That should tell you something about the level of abuse, here, and it can't be allowed to continue.
I seriously intend to track down the operators of Second Life Relay For Life on this. This is not only careless disregard for design, but mistreatment of designers, and I'm not even going into the charity events they held that they got wrong, including the one featuring time donated by a Linden...
It's so disappointing.
And I deeply regret we agreed to participate in the hunt, but I am very glad we didn't buy a booth.
All I have right now is the name found on the main SLRFL page that comes up via Google; if anyone has more information, please let me know. This is the exact way charities get bad names, and we want to keep SLRFL in good standing.
(Why yes, there's a second part.)
heart is a storybook, a star burned out
Sometimes, love dies from abuse. Sometimes, love dies from neglect. Sometimes, love dies from absence.
And sometimes...love doesn't die at all, and we just wish it would...
I've been here before.
And it never gets easier.
I asked him today for a hug. Well, no, let me be precise--I said I would ask him for a hug, but I didn't know if that would offend him.
I got back the lines of severance sent by someone else, the new ban firmly nailed in place.
I guess that's his answer.
Maybe it's a good thing, knowing that another fracture in my heart won't destroy me. Maybe it's a good thing that I know how to shore up the weak spots, and continue on. Maybe it's a good thing I know how to operate under stress.
Or maybe these are all terrible things, and they're just familiar to me.
I don't know anymore.
But this is where we are, I guess. No repairing what's broken, ever. No discussion. No further contact. No...more. No more anything.
And I get to be the pillow over the face of love, quietly smothering it until it gives up and stops kicking...while my brain protests there has to be another way, and my heart screams it's not supposed to be this way at all.
Well, I agree. It's not. But here we are. And here, we unfortunately stay.
And the walls go up, and the gates within will be reinforced, and the list of those that have access to anything past the courtyard will be narrowed further...
But, to use a phrase I loathe...it is what it is. And I have to accept it for what it is. And find a way to move forward from here...
but you need your rotten heart, your dazzling pain like diamond rings
Welcome to Dreadmorne Township.
Obviously, this town has seen better days.
It's not just the eels, there's bodies in the water, too.
The eels are getting bigger...
And what's with the flowers?
That water can't be good for them...unless...
This is why I came, though. I first heard about it on Twitter, and read through everything it asked for. I have a Maitreya body, and the Regalia body. I now own Happy Paw's Lynx ears, Sugarcult's Fennex legs just in case, and Cerberus' Kisa head.
It retails for L$599. A bit more than I intended to spend--way more than I intended with all the accessory parts--but...new forms sometimes require sacrifice, don't they?
At least this one did.
And of course, in the center of town...the maw from the deep. Perfect, really.
Dreadmorne runs until...some point?? Finding information on it is very, very thin on the ground right now? But I'll update this when I can.
what is left now that it's over?
I think we're past fire at this point...
I like to think, whether this is self-delusion or not, that I'm at least adequate at working out issues between people. I try not to fly off the handle these days; I try to listen and then try to articulate what I need to have said. No one's perfect, I'm not, no one is, but...I thought I had at least a minor ability, there.
If what just resolved, in spite of every attempt I made, is indicative of skill...I've been lying to myself.
I'm finding it morbidly amusing currently, that when I started my Twitch account, I chose the name I'd just started running under, emptydoll. Because I'd just suffered a very bad breakup and at the time, I felt very small, very empty, very broken.
Fast forward to this moment, these feelings, and I just feel...hollowed out. I'm not mad, I'm not crying hysterically, I'm just...exhausted. It takes effort to breathe. Everything around me is very, very quiet, in that excruciatingly loud way.
Once again, I am the empty doll, trying to figure out what I do now.
I never wanted another ban of anyone else I cared for. I never wanted my dominant to feel as if he had to step in to protect me from hurting myself, as well as continuing to be hurt by someone else. I never wanted to feel like this again.
We don't always get what we want.
Eventually, I'll be back to some form of steady state. The walls are going to be very high for quite some time. The masks are going to be riveted in place. I'll do what I can to drop them around others I love, but it certainly won't be easy, and depending on where I am, what I'm doing, and definitely who I'm interacting with...it may not even be possible.
But we'll deal with that when it happens. All I can do is keep moving forward. And picking myself up when I fall down, when the weight of my heart is too much to carry.
I get through this. I've gotten through worse things. I just mourn, yet again, that I have to.
Still spinning in the heart of Hagalaz, I suppose. And waiting for the hail to thaw.
don't get near me, I'll only sear your skin, in the state I'm in
And then, another night fell, a darker day dawned...
I am not at all happy to have you back.
I suppose I should at least thank you for the warmth...
It's been mentioned recently that I court my own destruction to reinforce my brand. Which is laughable, in one sense, but...I have based this entire blog on emotional pain. Am I truly surprised that it then keeps...cropping...up?
The question now is...how do I change that?
And I am so, so very tired...
Maybe I can push it back through the mirror. Think there's a chance of that?
In the meantime, this is where we are. Hagalaz, the rain of hail. The eye of the storm. Crisis, catastrophe, the emergence of the shadow to stain the light...The acceptance of the unalterable.
That's depressing.
Spun out to get here, spun out once I leave, the intensity for current pain inflicted, to ensure the lack of pain in future. And the chill in the air grows...Hagall brings it all to my door. With the tenuous hope of crops to feed the soul in future...if I accept the upheaval of now.
I never wanted this upheaval. But here I am again, anyway. Best to find more coal, the way this thing is burning.
At least one good thing happened today. It's something to smile about, at least. There may be precious little of that for a while...
I need my empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology
The spam messages are getting stranger.
Dear Trusting Friend in God,
Dear what now?
This is Mrs. Melissa Richardson from London,
I highly doubt that.
58 years an aging widow suffering from long time illness.
Sorry to hear that. Why are you telling me?
I have the sum of $17.5M for you
No, you don't.
to use the fund for God’s work.
I found your e-mail address as a real Child of God
No, you didn't.
for over a month now that I have been praying about you
No, you haven't. Seriously, are there people this works on?
to know if really you are working according to the direction of God
I guess it largely depends on which god, but trust me, lady, it ain't yours. Even were I Christian, it wouldn't be your weird version.
so after all my prayers I am convince,
"Convinced".
and I have decided to contact you, Please if you would be able to use the funds for the Lord's work,
I mean, could I use the money? Sure. Do you have it? No. Would you send it to a stranger from a blind-buy email list? Hells, no. So why are you here?
with trust reply me
Never gonna happen.
with this e-mail address: ( mehards02@gmail.com )
Wau, that's not only a fake email, that's an email developed for PornHub or Grindr.
But I looked into it. Apparently variations of this one go back to 2020, with an expanded backstory. Seems like in the intervening time, she's moved from Benin to London.
Thanks
No thanks,
Yours in the Lord
Don't care,
Mrs. Melissa Richardson.
And that's not who you are, anyway.
Seriously--do people actually fall for this nonsense? Why?
what strangе claws are these, scratching at my skin?
The only peace at present...planting new blooms and cultivating magic circles in On Sea...It's something to do, at least.
you have to understand that the one I killed is me
the sky is a neighborhood
so keep it down...
I'm here again. Why am I here again? Why is there never enough air when I'm here?
heart is a storybook
a star burned out...
I wander funereal zones, feeling half-buried myself. Everything is far too loud in my head, and far, far too quiet outside it.
the sky is a neighborhood
don't make a sound
lights comin' up ahead
don't look now--
I seek out the wild places, hoping to find calm. I seek out memorials to tell myself I am not the only one suffering loss, but...it's only depressing me further. I'm...stuck.
oh, my dear, heaven is a big bang now
gotta get to sleep somehow
bangin' on the ceiling
bangin' on the ceiling
keep it down--
Even going through a haunted maze didn't cheer me up. This is...bad.
mind is a battlefield
all hope is gone
trouble to the right and left
whose side you're on?
Breathing ash again...this is familiar. The torn and bloodied sky. Very familiar. And every time, every single time I think I can park the train forever and just leave it to rust...the train wreck comes roaring back towards me.
And I'm still naive enough to be surprised.
thoughts like a minefield
I'm a tickin' bomb
maybe you should watch your step
don't get lost
Playing tag with past ghosts...I've been here before, too. Pain always echoes, especially this soul-deep.
heart is a storybook
a star burned out
somethin' comin' up ahead
don't look now--
We're told, when we can't see the solution to something where we are, to change our perspective. It doesn't seem to be working. Maybe the change needs to be deeper, this time. Maybe it needs to alter me, not just my view.
oh, my dear, heaven is a big bang now
gotta get to sleep somehow
bangin' on the ceiling
bangin' on the ceiling
keep it down...
I don't know what forms will come out of this. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe it's just going to be the walls don't come down, again, and...there's something in that that's kin to swallowing acid, because--I fought so hard, for years, to dismantle them. But maybe better boundaries are needed.
Because I'm feeling less sane by the moment, so...reconfiguration, of some sort. It's coming.
the sky is a neighborhood...
I just don't know how much it's going to hurt.
(Lyrics taken from The Sky is a Neighborhood by the Foo Fighters, off their album Concrete and Gold. Otherwise, the entry was written to Everything is Moving So Fast by Great Lake Swimmers, The Long One by the Beatles {[which as a remix comprises You Never Give Me Your Money, Sun King, Mean Mr. Money, Her Majesty, Polythene Pam, She Came Through the Bathroom Window, Golden Slumbers, Carry That Weight, and The End], Spirit in the Sky by KEiiNO, Evil by Interpol, and Crooked Still's Ain't No Grave. Shots taken in Caledon On Sea, Atheneum, the Endless Graveyard, the Dollhouse Forest, Living Echoes, and Mythspire Ridge. [Atheneum, Living Echoes and Mythspire being Fantasy Faire sims this year.])
the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most
Heartbreak. That's what this tastes like.
Stepping back from allegory for a moment. I went to high school in a very small, and very rural, area. As an adult, looking back on it, I can see the issues clearly: a bunch of queer kids finding our identity in a repressive, conservative school, with all the inherent pitfalls therein. But at the time, on the ground, all we knew was that our parents didn't understand us, and in many cases, didn't want to.
We had alcoholics under eighteen, drug addicts, because existing in these spaces was so difficult. We weathered suicide attempts, and once or twice, had to cope in the aftermath of suicidal successes. We had parents who committed their kids to psych wards, attempting to "cure" them. It was nightmarish, and cruel.
Through those four years, there was someone else in my life. We never dated, neither of us wanted to be that for each other. What we did become, was--family. I thought of him as my brother, to the point that even now, when I think on him, that is the first word that comes to mind.
Through all the chaos, all the times the world lit on fire, all the time the ground froze and chipped off pieces of our defenses from sheer cold, we stood together. I told him things I've told no one else--not blood relations, not current partners. I was the first call he made from the conversion therapy center his parents slapped him into after his second suicide attempt.
I tell you this not to seek sympathy, but to give you context of how close we were.
As is the way of life continuing, those of us who survived high school--and, it must be said, not all of us did--chose to flee the stifling confines of religion and repression. For him, that was Louisiana. For me, I returned to California.
We wrote long, extravagant letters to keep in touch, called each other between them. There were (rare, but occasional) visits--once, when he came out to California, once, when he went to spend time with a friend in Colorado. Even being so far apart, even after all the years since high school...we still felt that deep kinship. My brother; his sister; life went on.
Until a particular president was elected that I thought was bad for the country. History has proven me right, but at the time this was the first issue that divided us. We argued, in letters, in phone calls, each trying to get the other to hear.
But he was the one to say, "You're not my sister anymore".
There is a very particular pain that settles into us, carving out space in our bones, with a pronouncement like that. He cut off all contact, returning my letters, hanging up when I tried to call. Eventually, I stopped, and just breathed in the pain of it, trying to cope.
Two years later, a hurricane struck the city he was in, and he was listed among the missing.
It took another year of poring over records at a distance, calling his place of employment, calling churches, emailing every address I had of him and our former high school friends...tracking down friends and barely acquaintances who might know how to contact his family. Trying to find word. That was hard, too.
Not as hard as the day I finally saw his name on a body retrieval list.
Knowing he'd passed...that was crushing. Knowing we'd never be reconciled again...that was...excruciating.
This man I considered closer than blood, closer than family born, was now...gone.
I tell you that to tell you this.
There's been a certain leaked memo in the past week. I'm not going to say much on it directly, save to say--everyone in what's become the extended in-world family is--ideologically, at least--on the same page. But even knowing that, an argument broke out on particulars. And two of us watched in horror as the family fractured before our eyes.
That same dawning sense of loss. That same feeling of the chasm in front of me, where formerly mutual love and support existed.
I don't know what's going to happen with this family's fracture. I know there are things we may not be able to come back from. I know trust has not just been broken in some places, but cremated and buried, as well.
I don't know if we can heal. And I don't know what happens from here.
The one thing I do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt--I'm still going to exist on the other side of this. Because I've gone through this once, and survived. Sadder, more melancholy, grieving for the lost...but survival, nonetheless. It's--kind of what I do.
The only other thing I know is...right now, in this moment--moment to moment..it's hard to breathe. And I don't know when that feeling's going to go away, either.
this war will never be over, gonna last too long
[12:50] Elizeea: Hi, I am so embarrased for asking for this that I can't even use my main avatar. I am in a really rough place irl at the moment and if you could spare 200L or any amount really, it would mean the world to me. I am sorry for asking and thanks in advance :(
Nope, she does not get anonymized. So sad not sorry. People need to know that this day-old yahoo is doing this. Reported and blocked.
[12:54] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): AHAHAHAHAHA
[12:54] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): That's a new spin on the scam, I've only seen that the past four months or so.
[12:54] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Still not going to work, but I wish you well.
You know the thing that really gets under my skin? There *are* legitimately people in need...people who don't want to lose their land, but maybe just can't afford the entire tier right now...people just scraping by...I do get that. I do. But do you know exactly how not to get what you need in SL? Sound like a Linden scammer. Flat out. This? Comes off entirely as a Linden scammer from the day-old profile on down.
The 'too embarrassed to use my main avatar' is new, though. First time I've heard that. I have heard the 'please give me 200L' before. The 'I can't face myself so I invented someone to ask', while entirely ludicrous, is at least new.
Still. Nitwits should know better.