I bet you're hard to get over

yes, it's true that I believe
I'm weaker than I used to be
I wear my heart out on my sleeve
and I forget the rest of me

It's hard living life on the surface of the skin, so it's really no surprise I jump back into old patterns given half the chance. The struggle is to remain open, remain flexible, remain adaptive. Remain vulnerable. It's something of a delicate mental state.



yes, there's times I've been afraid
and there's no harm in that I pray

What's the end goal? Life experience that leads to learning, not hiding. Emotional states that are more fully developed, not reactionary. I don't always succeed; after all, I'm trying this great experiment as a very flawed being. There are bound to be failures in thought, in reaching out, in perceptions, along the way.



'cause I'm more frightened everyday
someone will take the hope I have away

but you gotta give up
to get off sometimes...
you gotta give up
to get get off sometimes, I know

All right, fine, my choices occasionally hurt me, deeply, but what's the alternative? Pulling back. Building up the fortress walls. Never reaching out. That way lies ossification, stagnation, the end of personal growth. Growth is never easy. Understanding is a constant struggle. There will be pain.



all the times I've given in
(one by one by)
you fit me like a second skin
(one by one by)
and one by one I will begin
to wear you on the days I'm feeling thin

That is the thing I'm struggling against hardest. To put it in a certain way, my sword and shield should be one person, specifically, not another. Or, slightly rephrased--I can't use the fellow I'm struggling to sort out my feelings about in the first place, as refuge to buffer those feelings. That's not only recursive, but dangerous.



but you gotta give up
to get off sometimes--

Of course, that occasionally leaves me stranded between the fellow who cautiously yearns, and the fellow that says everything will work out, and for once, I'm not sure the latter's position is emotionally honest. There is still trust. Don't get me wrong. But there's that undercurrent of no safe harbor, and...is that part of it? No safety, I have to learn how to walk the tightrope without the net?

Is that ever viable?

(I forgot to list the sims I hit for the last two entries, but here it was the Escapades sim, Azshra the Convergence, Wildwood Gardens, Fox Grove, and Salt Water. Lyrics from Matchbox Twenty's song "Stop".)

sometimes a heart can feel like a heavy weight

The Sacred Grove for Her Gnostic Majesty, the Hidden Queen. It was meant to be a dance space, an event space, a place for small rituals and gatherings, even meetings if such were desired. While it was open to the public, it was designed to be part of Armada, and...when Armada left...the Sacred Grove began to gather dust.



I was tasked by Archduke Greyhaven to build a space that was inclusive, and multi-purpose. I felt the center of it should be the dance ring, and the use of space reflected that. But around the edge of the center ring were benches and draped rocks, places to sit or to dance more privately.



It wasn't a matching set, and it wasn't intended to be. Some seating was wood, some was stone, some was carved, some had cushions. I was pondering if I had room for a hot springs, water cascading from the back of the parcel, for months. (Eventually I decided against it.)



The space was intended to be free for all use; the only reference I had to any financing was a small jar next to the eldritch fireplace, seen above, and that was all I intended to have. Asking to support the space wasn't the point; the point was to offer the space, period.



And now...it's gone.

I want to make it more of a lyrical thing, I do, but...I don't have a better explanation. After Armada sunk into the clockwork sea, Archduke Greyhaven lost his heart for the grid, his passion to build and transform. For September, he sent me funds to maintain the parcels--in my name and his--and I did my best. But when October arrived, two things happened: he dropped out of contact once more, and the typist became very ill. I wasn't truly recovered, and able to access the world, until the last week of October, and so I informed him. His decision came down two weeks past, and told me that if we needed to let go some parcels in Rosehaven or Babbage, to do so.

So, with a heavy heart...that's what I've done. The Sacred Grove is gone.



Now I'm pondering the virtual life, yet again. Who am I, here, and who do I want to be? What causes do I want to support? I still believe in Greyhaven and Armada-now-gone, but does the Archduke? And if he doesn't, what is eventually going to happen to the rest of his parcels, the ones not in my name?

And paying down the great debt I've incurred in Babbage may well be ruinous, but I will do it. It was in my name, it was my responsibility, even if the funds were supposed to be sent to me to pay them on. The agreements were between me and the Archduke, Mr. Tenk should not have to accept culpability for that. But it does hurt. And I am worried.

We proceed from here. That's all I can do. But I will be thinking, long and hard, on what got me here, and where I go from here. The only thing I'm sure of is remaining at Sakura...and being the redheaded troublemaker for House Whiteberry. Everything else may well be in flux. Time will tell us all what happens next.

we'd move from the shadows of the wall

Precise cuts. Deliberate wounding. Never arm someone with the weapons to use against you, it's a rule. But I've never been able to function that way.



There was contention. I felt there was an argument to come. And I pushed. Knowing the likely outcome, I pushed. And then...

"Goodbye."



I've never had a rational relationship to that word. I can hear it if I know it means for right now. I can hear it if it's just leavetaking, temporary, no sense of permanence.

I cannot deal with it if I think it relates to an ending. Because it becomes permanence in that moment, for me.



I'm too literal. It's been a fault for a while. But I'd also passed out heavy arms, precision rounds, scattered mines to deploy in my wake. I wasn't the one who armed them. That was never my choice.





Over. It's over. It's over. And I hadn't figured out what it was in the first place...

now the war is passed and over, we're left to sit and wonder

Anthony Bourdain has a Tumblr account! Now there's a whole new way to stalk--err, follow his exploits...err...yeah, there's no real way to make that sound good. But it's a great idea.

Search keywords for this blog are still pretty odd for this week:

• my little pony porn (32 people found my blog because of this!)
• hood piercing (still don't get it, I've never talked about that on this blog)
• dolcett (yeah, I bring that up on occasion)
• minecraft sexcraft (the hell is wrong with you people?!)
• croon nandahar (really? I've mentioned Croon more than just in passing?)
• puffed sleeve blouse (what?)
• angelspit (WTF?)
• lips glitter (I get why that's still here)
• milan cathedral flying buttresses (.....)
• bates motel (Now you're just messing with me)

And referral statistics are pretty understandable too, for the most part--eight of the ten top referrers were Google searches in various countries. One of them was this blog, itself--I'm not sure how anyone would go about finding my blog if they're already there, but sure, okay, whatever.

It's the last one that makes my brain hurt: Americans Who Hate Obama. Err...what? Granted, anyone who's on the Twitterverse understands that I have definite political views, but by and large they don't make a big impact on the blog. Because in SL, they don't so much make a big impact on the grid. I'll refer to political issues where they hinge upon technology issues, and I believe once I mentioned private-versus-familial politics, but...yeah, that's about it.

So this one? Confuses me deeply.

On to tags. Noticing that I had mysteriously added "." as a tag, somewhere, I went off hunting for that entry. Still haven't found it. It's going to bug me until I do. But in the meantime, while I was poking through tags:

• "Angry Birds" as a tag has been replaced and subsumed under "games"
• "bats" is gone, it's now "animals"
• "chocolate" is just removed, period
• "Evocative" is also gone
• "dominance" is now replaced with "BDSM" (and I'm thinking more than a few entries will fall under that tag when I get around to looking for them)
• "DYAC" has been removed (mostly because I can't remember what it's supposed to mean--'Do Your Apple Crumble'? 'Did Your Airplane Crack'? 'Dye Your Alpaca Crimson'? What?)
• "Flying Spaghetti Monster" has been subsumed into the more general "faith"
• "Gatheryn" is now replaced with "games"
• and "Girl Genius" simply defaults to "media" now

I'm hoping tags like "dieselpunk", "BioShock", "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang", "Christopher Titus", "cyberpunk", "DC Universe Online", "Desert Bus for Hope", "Edelweiss", "Evony", and "fishing", plus a few others, will have more than one entry, some day, so I'm leaving them intact for now. (In fact, since the latest-entry-before-this-one mentioned an Edelweiss frock specifically, I'm now bumping that tag up to two entries.)

"Burning Life" I'm on the fence about, honestly, but that also has to deal with the fact that I got too caught up in non-BL things to blog more than two entries on the topic--and I don't think I labeled the first one. But we'll see how it goes.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to continue tunnelling under the ocean in Minecraft.

bad dreams really do come true

As mentioned on New World Notes, Second Life now has a new feature. Everyone automatically gets their own web page, which can be shared on Facebook and Twitter.

I...guess this is a good thing? Technically, we've had this--barring the sharing feature--for a long while now, but to be honest, it's much easier to use this time around, and the layout is both cleaner and larger (print-wise). Before, it was nearly the equivalent of a computer text file, with line after line of teensy type.

How'ver, the question must be asked--since the Labs recoded the profiles the first time, and broke all picks prize givers, and all group verifications for a while...have they managed to do it a second time? I haven't heard anything, but then, I haven't been in world yet.

Either way, it's yet another puzzling development from the Labs. Fixing Search, fixing group chat, fixing stability and asset server issues: these things are still not priorities. But obviously, everyone was just crying out with the intense burning lack of resident profiles shareable on social networks.

Glad to know that yet again, the Labs go for the least significant fixes first, before tackling the big stuph. (Which is, of course, assuming they ever will.)

To that end, I wanted to briefly mention for new readers: yes, I misspell certain words deliberately. Why? I really couldn't tell you. But I started doing it in high school, and I haven't ditched the habit yet.

For the most part, these are fixed misspellings in my mind. They are:

Stuph. For "stuff", obviously. In a highly indirect and circuitous route, this was inspired by a tale of Harlan Ellison's days in New York (which may be completely apocryphal in the first place). He'd gone to a party, gotten a bit tipsy, had a bit of an argument with the woman staying in said apartment--where he'd also been invited to spend a few weekends. In a fit of pique, he went outside, stamping in the dirty midwinter slush, and came back in, going to the apartment's den. It had a white Flokati rug, and he carefully, with intent, stamped out letters before leaving.

Those letters? P-H-U-Q-U-E. Sound it out. And thus, 'stuph' was born.

Septus. Another dating to high school, and Latin class. At the time, I thought it looked more...Latin-y? So to speak.

Aprille. Why Aprille? We'd been reading Canterbury Tales, and if that's not a variant spelling in there, it was in some literature of the time (we were also going through early English poets). It stuck.

How'ver. This is less a misspelling than it is a contraction, and it's not even that, really, because it's very nearly the same number of syllables sounded out (at least to me). But this was another high school glitch in the programming, that stuck around. (It doesn't even save time typing, because it's the same number of characters. Go figure I'd pick a contraction that isn't, that contains the same number of characters as the original word. That says something about my personality, I think. And it's not necessarily a good thing.)



Click for the larger version. From some unknown manipulator on Worth 1000, and I am now pondering riveted pears. Does the grid have a need for them? More to the point, do they need to be clockwork, or can they simply be metallic? Would they add or detract to a grove of more natural trees?

And would they attract clockwork bees?

and I don't remember why I came

white label on the backseat
glows an artificial green
I crave a midnight something
I crave, and something hunts me down


(In Minecraft, pigs are arborial! This also taught me that leaves would support my weight, as well. Now in one of my worlds, I have a treehouse.)

I'm scaring everybody
I'm wearing everybody down


(One night, preparing for a bit of deep exploration in the Catacombs, I heard this odd...thupping sound. Like someone slapping a piece of raw liver against a kitchen counter. I carefully rounded the corner and...saw my first Slime.

(Slimes are unusual in Minecraft in that they don't need patches of shadow to spawn, they just need to be deep enough. Deep enough, Slimes will spawn. And they come in three sizes. This one? Was a regular sized one. When I attacked it, it split into four small sized ones. Imagine what happens when a huge slime shlups along.)

white label on the backseat
and something bends me over, down
I crave an empty lifestyle
I crave the very loudest sound


(And then I decided to build a giant tree. I named it Llyr. It doesn't entirely work, but it is a solid enclosure of wood, and inside, are narrow beams of stone and glass to hold up a glass ceiling up above the leaves.)

I'm chasing everybody
I'm shaking everybody down...
do you hear the loudest sound?
and you and me in the echo?


(I have decided, even though they need a hefty amount of planks to build, I like signs. They're functional and enormously descriptive.)

white label on the backseat
and something warm across my lap
I never bitched at anyone
I never asked for my heart back


(Even in a completely cubist reality, there are still sights which remain impressive. Lava flows are one of them. Deadly, absolutely; but also beautiful.)

I'm loving everybody
and hating everyone I see--


(Did I mention I like signs? This was the first chamber where I dug all the way to the lowest level. The all-black square seen in the picture is my game's version of adminium, the unmineable substance. It cannot be blown up, dug out, or moved in any way; it is the lowest level possible to attain in the game.

(Also, note the glass cube I'm holding on the right side of the larger image; in my game, glass isn't blue and silver, it's black and white. You can alter the game if you want to; the programmer allows it.)

do you still remember me?
floating out on the echo...?


(There are sights in any virtual world that feel, to me, like 'home'. The strength of the response varies; some part of me will always think of Rivula as my home in Second Life, for instance, though Caledon Morgaine comes in a close second.

(But this was the first place I ever build in Minecraft that felt like home to me. And strangest of all, it was the third home I built, and the one least equipped to actually be a home.)

Today marks the day I bought Minecraft. I haven't been playing a hacked copy, precisely; I've been playing the copy downloaded the day the servers crashed, and Notch threw the game free for a couple weeks. I only play it offline and only in single player.

Now? I can choose to play on the public servers if I want. Or still keep playing offline. My choice, my rules, for the most part. And I'm supporting innovation and creativity, and the spirit of play. No bad thing there, even if the Euros-to-dollars conversion rate went up.

(None of that has anything to do with this post, or the song.)

(Lyrics from Kristen Hersh's song Echo.)

I have too been playing with fifty-two cards; just 'cause I play so far from my vest

So, more on the Dare Designs thing.

First off, while I was surprised that Dare, himself, commented on the blog (yeah, I'm still occasionally under the delusion no one reads this thing), I think we aired our concerns with tact and restraint. I want to make this plain--I am not attacking the man, nor what he does, because what he does makes up a fair bit of my wardrobe. (And a lot of my Hallows trees are his.) I like his business, is the main point.

Having said that, I'd point your attention towards his own blog entry on the topic, which addresses pretty much everything said so far. And repeats this paragraph from his first (first? Maybe second) reply to me:

With search broken, with picks and traffic no longer counting towards search rankings, and NO tool available to us (merchants) working any longer – leaving us no real way (except good old-fashioned word of mouth) to introduce our work to new customers as old ones leave SL in droves… it’s time to be creative, and invite loyal customers to work WITH us, and get something back for it.

That's incredibly relevant, and it points to the huge frustration that all merchants on Second Life are having currently. Search has been broken in all main clients for nearly an entire year. This, by itself, would be enough to kill a lot of businesses--and it has--but it seems like every single marketing technique that's discovered, the Labs step in between two and six months down the line, and say it's "gaming the system".

With Dare, at least, and the way this new group works, the one thing the Labs cannot say is that he's using Search, or Profile Picks, or any other previously-declared 'gaming' technique...to game anything. This is clearly stated, and he's even further refined it in the blog post he made.

If this works out the way he hopes it will, he'll have a moderately devoted (to insanely devoted) core of customers, who are dedicated both out of pure admiration for the business, and a fair bit of enlightened self-interest--to keep that business going.

Now, flaw one for this plan has always been that strong trace, for me, of MLM marketing. And I automatically connect this with pyramid schemes, but to be absolutely fair here, they are separate. Multi-level marketing businesses are legal. Pyramid schemes aren't.

So I read through the blog post, and the note card again. I still don't like it, but I am removing my objection on the 'pyramid scheme' accusation. Because that's really not what's going on at all.

If I sign up (which won't happen, at least not for a while; I'll explain that next), I get a basic group tag, and really, that's all I have to do. I shop, I talk to folks, I follow sales notices; nothing really changes. If I sign up and then sign up ten other people--meaning, each one of them sends a notecard to Dare Munro with my name as the referrer and their desire to join the group--I go up one level, and get 5% of everything I spend in the store back.

Say I sign up twenty-five people to the group--I move up one more level, and get 10% of everything I spend back. If I sign up fifty people that's one more level, and I get 15% of all purchase funds returned. And if I truly lose my mind, and sign up one hundred people, I move to the last level--appropriately called "Cursed"--and I get 20% of all purchases back.

There's also a bit about, if you have these "circles" of people in your downlines, then everything they spend--if they spend anything at all--becomes a part of your total, and you can earn a (negligible, but definite) amount of their purchases per month, just for having them in your circle.

Okay, fair enough, it makes sense--but there is a catch. I have to keep these people to keep my standing. Each one of those ten avatars have to stay in the group. That's why he says sign up and maintain those people.

This brings me to my second objection--group space. Until (and I really doubt this will ever happen) the Lindens increase group space, group space is at a premium for most of us, and that premium is high. For example, let's talk my groups. In alphabetical order, they are:

*Delicatessen*: Part landscaping, part art installation; I got into their group right as their sim closed, and I feel honor-bound to stay in at least until they reopen after the rebuild. How'ver, if something else comes up that strikes me as more valid, this is what I consider a "mobile" group spot.

+ | DV8 Deviants | +: DV8 is latex, cybertech, futuristic hair and neko attachments, quirky steampunk outfits, and bizarre fishing frocks. They throw a lot of freebies to the group--in fact, I sacrificed a pick space to them (though honestly, I may end up ditching that at some point, because I wear the things I buy from them, and I tend not to wear--or keep--most of what Vasha throws in the picks prize giver)--but also, they have frequent discounts for group members, and parties. (Also, if I stay in the group, I feel it gives me some partial bit of 'bitching rights' over the Twisted hunts. That's pure undiluted justification, but it works for me.) This one may or may not be mobile; it depends on how I feel. I have left it at times, I generally join right up again.

::: B@R ::: VIP: If you don't know who Bare Rose is, wau, you live under a rock. Bare Rose is my second-longest running group slot. I've been in their group one year younger than they've existed on the grid. I adore them, their designs, and the people who run the place, and I've even made it onto at least one product box. (I think just the one, but it may be two.) Bare Rose I consider a non-mobile slot, which means I never leave this group.

Adam n Eve sachi Vixen update group: I joined Adam & Eve's group before I inveigled them into designing the 300 movie avatars and outfits three years back. But I was part of that promotional juggernaut, and because of that, and because I adore sachi Vixen and Damen Gorilla, this I consider a non-mobile slot.

Autogenica: This is Autogenic Alchemy, Mr. Allen's business. Considering the last update was back in January of this year, this is very nearly a dead group. But it's one I can't leave; unfortunately, since I set the group up for Mr. Allen, if I leave it, it dies. So this is a non-mobile group slot for me.

Caverna Obscura: Caverna Obscura makes lovely medieval fashions, fae fashions, and also tosses group gifts to their members once a month. In fact, the Lalaith gown is their October offering, and it is divine. For me, Miss Ewing is up there with Evie's Closet and Kouse's Sanctum. This I consider a semi-mobile spot--it's a group I like to stay in, sometimes have to leave, and try my best not to.

Distressed Textures: Jewell Lamourfou of Distressed does amazing work on wood, siding, and combined aged fabrics. (She does other great work as well, but those, she's stellar with.) I'm in and out of her main group; I'm always in her subscribe-o-matic. This is a semi-mobile spot--it's a group I like to stay in, sometimes have to leave, and try my best not to.

FallnAngel Creations: I have been in and out of this group, over the years, but I always try for more in than out (so to speak). I love Azriel's dress designs, I am enchanted and appalled at his art, his zombies are mass fun to converse with, and he's an amazing builder. Plus, he and Tomoyuki Batra represent one of the few long-standing SL relationships: they prove it is possible. Which is an excellent example.

This group wavers between semi-mobile and non-mobile; I want to stay in, and if I have to leave, I make sure as I can that I'm leaving before a group gift goes out--because I can't rejoin the group if one's out for the group members!

HAR Landgroup & Investments: At one point, long, long ago, I lived in Rivula. Very dear friends of mine, Hank and Alex Rucker, lived there too. I am still very dear friends with them, but I no longer live in Rivula, nor, once Rivula sold and Lunitarium was acquired, Lunitarium. How'ver, I'm still a land officer for the land group, and I won't give it up.

Independent State of Caledon: Do I need to explain Caledon to people? I still have one parcel of Caledon left; I suppose that means I can't leave the group.

Lucky Kitty Crew: Founded by one of the officers in Bare Rose, I joined her group back when there were maybe thirty people overall. There's more now, and there are people I don't get on with (and who don't get on well with me), but by and large, we stand by each other, support how we can, and make our way--cheaply if possible--through Second Life. This I consider a non-mobile group slot.

Octoberville!: Cannot leave Octoberville. I leave, I don't get my rank when I solve the puzzle this year. (Which reminds me, now that it's back on, I should kick myself into gear on the haunt, and get to solving Octoberville!)

Sanguinarius.Org for Real Vampires: One of the few groups I'm in that traces to an RL affiliation, as well. I could leave the group; I have problems with some of the group members; but by the same extension, I've had most of those same problems with the community at large. I am known and past known to be cranky beyond all reason on "otherkin" and other fluffy terms, and less than sympathetic to anyone who read Twilight and "woke up" to their supposedly "true vampiric natures". And I will happily kick people out of my way with a smile who say these things to me. Still, it's a group I feel profoundly uncomfortable about leaving. I class this as semi-mobile...but it's really not.

Sensual Paradyce: Sensual Paradyce is where the weekly (or nearly weekly) Wednesday discussions are held on BDSM practices, customs, traditions, fashions, and fetishes are held. I'm in the group in case one of the girls has to sub out; I can fill in as an alternate host. The owner, Dyce Underwood, also gives me an insane discount on advertising in the store, and considering that's practically the only advertising I do, I stay in this group. I'm also an officer, in case I am called on to send out a notice. So this is one I can't leave, either.

Shadows' Eaves: My land group. Really, enough said; I set the group up, it's what all my land is under, I can't leave it.

Solace Beach Event Staff: Job-related; the tag I need to work in the land office. I can't leave it.

Solace Beach Staff: Also job-related; the tag I need to build and/or repair/return built items by others in and around the Solace sims. I can't leave it, either.

Tainted Hunts: To get clues on the Hunt of the Living Dead. May or may not stay in after that hunt's over; they're encouraging people to stay in for more events and future hunts. Jury's still out, because, while I really like Yellow Jester and Mefo Alcar's design ethic--it would be yet another non-mobile group. Due to that, I'd call this one semi-mobile.

The Thrifty Goth group: Man, I'm conflicted about this one. I had to join the group because I had to be in this group to go on the Gother than Thou hunt, and some of those hunt items were well worth the aggravation. In return, though, I'm yelled at nearly constantly (not directly, but impartially; it still adds up) not to call from this store, or that store, or only call the stores on the list, or ask a mod before any call...and NEVER EVER NEVER to call anything furry, fae or neko.

I have a biiiig problem with that. When I have fur, I generally have pale fur and I dress in black. When I'm neko, I'm generally either black or white, even though I do have other skins. When I'm fae, I'm Unseelie. I not only know I'm gothic, I have been a goth for more than enough years to know exactly what it is. I resent being treated like a child and I further resent being told what I can and cannot call, based on whether someone else entirely thinks is--or isn't--goth.

I wrestle daily with the thought of leaving the group. I feel marginalized, institutionalized, restricted, and it's just not at all fun when you toss in the rampant spelling errors of nearly every single person not me in that damned group. If I get a good reason to leave--I am gone. But so far, it's still slightly less hassle to stay in than leave.

The Unknown Hunt: I'm in this group because my store's in the hunt. The hunt's over, I leave this group. This is a mobile slot.

The Woeful Wednesday Collective: I admit, I'm in this one simply because they're one with my ethos; items (that generally retail between L$50 and L$100) every week, from merchants I already favor. It works for me. I could leave this group, if needed, but right now I'm trying to stay in.

Twisted Thorn Textures:: I own far too many Twisted Thorn textures to ever leave this group. Besides which, they're a generally intelligent, helpful group of people who are great at pointing out where a certain sculpt might be found, or where a certain texture is in the now-sprawling complex that is TTT.

Victorian Shopkeepers Association: Founded by Jarl Otenth Paderborn, it's sort of the equivalent of Woeful Wednesday--only for Victorian/steampunk sorts, not goths. Tacitly, I have posting permission; I rarely use it these days because I haven't put out anything s eriously Victorian in two years. Even so, I consider it a group I would like to try to stay in.

Virtual Haiti Relief: Because they still need help. As long as I have a kiosk out, I'm going to be in this group.

Winterfell: Because I live there now. Because it's Winterfell. Because I loved it before I lived there, and I belonged to the group before I moved. NOT leaving.

By my count, objectively, I have sixteen groups I cannot--in my own mind--see my way clear to leaving, ever. That leaves nine, and of those nine, I really, honestly, feel I can only leave at will three. And I have to really be devoted to those three, because at least one of those is iffy. Maybe two of those, if you toss in Distressed Textures (because I am on her subscribe-o-matic).

I just don't generally have the room for new groups that would have to remain a fixed spot; I generally only take on new groups that may stay in a month to four months, then rotate out again. I'm always maxed out on group slots, it's an insane thing to ask.

That, plus the fact I just don't coddle people well, pretty much guarantees that if I want to toss Dare Munro press--and I mean good press, not this back-and-forth we've been having--then I'll go down and buy something and review it. Elsewise...no. I just don't see it happening. It's like Tiny Empires, Fashion Edition.

All that being said--and kudos to anyone who read all the way down!--I will say this: I admire Dare for not taking the quick way out and just finding an affiliate vending program, so his brand can join the hundreds, if not thousands, populating vendor malls that exist as nothing more than to make people incremental percentages of sales per month. That really is gaming the system; Dare's not doing that.

What he seems to be doing--and a friend of mine is joining the group, so we'll see how her experience jibes with this perception--is far harder, will take more effort, will take a lot of hands-on--but seriously, here: if SL is your RL income, you need to do something like this. It's this or taking the route June Dion and Adam & Even took--diversification. Used to be A&E didn't do shoes. Now they do. Used to be they didn't do landscaping, either--now they do.

For that matter, so does Dare Munro. Survivors are survivors not only because they live through the dark times, but because they keep finding new ways to keep living. So here's to Dare Designs surviving. Fight on.

why does the rain choose me? can I wrap myself up in it?

It started with a mention on Miss Jameson's journal. The pictures were scattershot, but deeply moving. Then Edward picked it up. He only ran one picture, but it was stunning. And then, of course, my attention wandered to Duchess Gabrielle's coverage of the events that beset her beloved New Toulouse. (There's actually more than one entry, but that one has a lot of links to a lot more pictures, if you weren't there on the ground to observe it.)

Of course, my mind cannot divorce Hurricane Adolphe striking New Toulouse from Hurricane Katrina's devastation in New Orleans, but I've been trying to think about this objectively. In 2005, at the height of the destruction, Second Life became an alternate temporary home for those with portable equipment. It was a waystop for those with accounts to connect with each other. Communities were formed, some of which persist to this day. Groups were formed, some merely to duplicate the efforts online in keeping track of the living and the dead. (While I wasn't an avatar in SL yet, I did utilize several web sources to discover whether my brother, a long-time resident of New Orleans, was living or dead. It took three weeks to confirm the latter, and it was individual people posting what they knew, over any governmental branch, that finally confirmed his death.)

How'ver, taking a longer view of things, Katrina wreaked havoc; it was utter and total destruction, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. People, including me, are still haunted by the events, the lack of governmental help, the inchoate horror and tragedy of the unburied dead, of alligators swimming in living rooms, of mold and rot taking hold on nearly every structure...and that's in New Orleans alone. Farther up the coast, miles and miles of Mississippi were reduced to kindling and splinters. In all affected states, it was not at all uncommon to see spray paint adorning walls saying "ALL DEAD HERE". And then the fires started...

But here we are, five years later. New Orleans is--slowly, torturously--coming back into its own. The diaspora of former residents has affected nearly every state, bringing Cajun culture, for lack of a better term, a much wider audience than it had before. And Second Life is still embracing that culture.

Put another layer on this: five years later, we can have a virtual disaster on the grid. And we can survive it. There is a strong school of thought in therapy that with some damaging events, the only thing that diminishes their power is the application, weeks, months or even years later, of positive versions of the same events. This overlay of positive over negative chips away at the former fear and terror, makes the mind and heart understand that they are safe, that the phobic core event has passed.

Then, healing can begin.

Five years later, New Toulouse gets hit by a hurricane. And people band together to get each other to safety. New Toulouse is not destroyed. New Orleans, in reflection, is saved.

New Orleans, in reality, wasn't; but there were enough people determined, their own hearts breaking, to stay and help it recover however it could. It's been hard, grueling, unrewarding work--but if any small portion of that resulted in the hurricane scenario in New Toulouse, then it was worth it. Because people have not forgotten. And people can still be helped.

That's the best tribute I can think of. Here's to everyone who fell, and the grand old lady herself: may she ever be remembered. Let this virtual recreation sing its way to those in need still, with the reminder that balance can be, will be restored, with time and care.

Five years later, a hurricane hits a city. Virtual or not, there will always be that chime of recognition. This time, no one lost their lives. Flooding is returning to normal; people who live in New Toulouse are putting their lives and their prims back in order. Destruction becomes rebirth.

And healing continues.

when you're buried in disguise, by the dark glass on your eyes

"She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes and that is very frightening."
--from The Lady of the Haunted House, by Angela Carter

Autumnal winds reach out from the coming season of bonfire and masks. I have walked through spring's deceptions and summer's calumny, and now face the change to the season of offerings, to the dead and the not-dead, and pledging to speak to those who have passed from autumn's glory past, to autumn's crisp return.

We are fragile creatures, ever. We will some day die, fade, be replaced. We are none of us eternal. Never.

That's not the point.

I am still slowly, so slowly, rebuilding my matrix. There have been changes; these are generally expected, for change always comes with rebuilding. I am more wary, now, and less prone to laughter, more prone to flinching away. Even my intimates have noticed. I am not the person I was.

What I have left to discover is if I can understand and accept the person I am becoming.

I ponder again, unasked, unbidden. I have stranded out silk enough to cobweb skyscrapers; I have threaded enough to sew quilts to cover bridges spanning the widest crevasse; doled out enough rope to string hammocks and swings between all the pinnacled towers of modernity. All for that one.



I have tried not to enshrine any new behavior, to observe only and move on, for I know foundation is more important than façade. It must be. And it must be solid and steadfast, laid slow, built upon slow. No rushing this time. This is not a patch job, this is pouring a new base, and smoothing it flat.

Second chances become third chances, and fourth, and fifth. Enough to fill the Laurentian Abyss, and more. And yet, there is always the push. The angle. The search for that loophole in every restriction. I grow weary waiting for each coming attempt.

This much I know: I am the biggest obstacle in my path. And if I am to learn, to grow, to invent and create, I must involve myself in what I do, work from the heart and not the mind. Both are needed; but again, I must do the deep work and do it with my heart open. It is hard, the skin is still so tender, I can be easily hurt--but perhaps that's part of the process, too.

I am very nearly at the point where I must simply ask: what is the correct option? If there is too much restriction, what would encourage comfort? If there are too many rules, then what would encourage good behavior?



I see endings ahead but that is the way of the bone season. This is decay and must, this is mold and unraveling. This is the collapse into the slow, steady chill, when the heart stops and the flesh sleeps. Before refuge is found, once more, this is that moment where one knows refuge is needed, and begins the search. This is the moment when all things that are not necessary are scraped away, burnt away, frozen away. Skin flays, muscles shrivel, organs rot.

Bones remain.

This is the collapse of the organic, into component parts, so that after life stops--or subdues--life can continue elsewhere, in the smaller creatures that each carry a bit of warmth away from those who fell. This is the moment of wood and ash, crackling flames, the sweetness of the final harvest. This is the place before the embracing stillness of winter; the moment before the deep freeze sets in.

Can I even ask these questions? Or will asking be the pin pulled from the machinations of the inevitable? Will anything prevent disaster, at this point?



This is fall, called so for more than one reason, and it is the time to step from safe spaces and see if there are any horrors left in the dark.

Because, willing or no, autumn comes. Willing or no, I must face them.

Because it's time.

in the streets of San Francisco, gentle people with flowers in their hair

[***WARNING*** Comments on this post are being monitored, and not by me. If you are a member of the ADA Texture group on InWorldz--whatever name it's going by this second--then you may be evicted from the group due to Adaarye Shikami's noting of your name as commenter here. If you feel the urge to say something anyway, I would recommend you post anonymously. I will remove my restrictions on anonymous posting after I update this and the current post.]

So, I was exposed to the concept of sticky gum as a fetish over on Nic Buxom's blog, and I pored over some other mentions to try to get an idea of the attraction...but this one? Looks like a horror movie.

(And no, surprisingly--nothing is NSFW. Everyone's fully clothed. Just...stuck.)

The comments to this JIRA entry are fascinating. Pro-polyamory, anti-polyamory, anti-MARRIAGE, pro-technical schemas for listing, anti-technical constraints...I voted for it, but wau, I'm honestly not sure, based on the comments, what would win out for implementation, so I'm not sure I would ever use such a system.

Reflecting back on an old post from July, I am mindful of Miss Shikami's likely still dead-set-against the 'freebie disease' and sales groups. And I am thinking over this, once more.

Since July, I have:

• joined three new subscribe-o-matics and one new in-world group, and bought things at all four new stores, because I liked their sales items;
• spent L$500 on a full-sale object at one of them, because I was in the store anyway looking for the sale item;
• spent almost L$400 on items I didn't especially need, because a maker I like was having a sale, and I like to encourage sales;
• spent over L$3000 on textures at a texture house because I'd stopped in to check over their half-off wall, and didn't find what I wanted there.

But sure, Miss Shikami. You keep right on thinking sales don't work. Obviously, they don't--for you.

Next up, *Filigreemotion* and ~Fadeless~ (they don't seem to have a main store):



We start with Christine in Brick (Black-Tipped). This is a thoroughly messy, razor-cut braid look, and one of the few sculpted hairstyles I think I'd ever wear, because beyond the texturing (which is phenomenal), even being a still life it looks as if it's moving.



This is Holly in Blonde (Red-Tipped). Not as pleased with this one (though the braided coronet is a nice touch); note the clipping through the avatar as to why.



This is Jessica in Soil. Uh...yeah, we'll just move on.



And the short choppy Senna in Wine rounds things off.

The first two (definitely the first one) have potential; the second two are unimpressive. So...B- for effort?

They can be found on Hair Fair 3.

these are hard hard times; who do you think you're fooling?

Got another mention on NWN; gave me a bit of reinforcement on the diffidently realized intention (if not actual goal) of taking better photographs beyond just multiple ones.

I don't always worry about the details, but it's nice that when I do, it's noticed.

What's a technocommunist?

Meanwhile, in the land of Emerald, the new production team (with some of the old team's members) are working on transparency issues. Some think the long list of required fixes needs to be kept private; some think it has to be made public; others think it has to be made public AMONG THE DEVS only, so they're all sorts of confused over there. All they really know? They have a huge list of problems that need to be addressed, and they're working as fast as they can to come up with a battle plan to address them.

Speaking of restructuring, have some very handy tips on fighting the Frankenfuture; AKA, bringing value back into business and creating forporations, not corporations. I'm not sure all the newly created lingo works for me, but I like the direction they're going. The problem is, the dinosaurs we have in government and business now are not going to understand anything that article says.

Meandering through the Stumblebum Brigade list, I took a port to the O!Bleak store. This is where I found myself:



Wau. I actually started out in midair over this, about nine hundred meters up, and I'd say it's a recent move, considering they're on the Stumblebum Brigade list, save--why are they on the list if they don't exist anymore?

And yes, I edited the smaller images to show you JUST how big that sucker is--that is a HUGE BLACK BOX a quarter of a sim in diameter. Damn.



I would love to know the backstory on that. Protest gone wrong? Their landlord suddenly raised their rates? What? And their blog's no help; the last update was back in May.

Back to this entry while everything sorts itself out in the background.

Quoting Glimmering Sands again:

I note, there seems to be some belief that age equals maturity. I believe there are plenty of counter examples to this on both sides of the magic 18 boundary.

I do not believe SL is the appropriate place for people to be first acquainted with topics that are considered mature, but this is my own opinion. It is not up to me to decide how another parent wishes to have their child introduced to subjects they consider mature (or even for me to decide what they consider mature)

No, we shouldn't take the place of parents, that's not our place. But by the same extension--are parents going to ignore their child's presence in Second Life, until they catch over their shoulder some pixillated pornography, before they throw a fit?

Because that's what this end of the argument comes down to: the parents who are involved in their childrens' lives are not the problem. Those children are likely in SL already, having claimed to be adults long before, and are smart enough and diligent enough not to be 'caught out'; or they've stayed responsibly on the Teen Grid, trying to obey the rules even when their own grid went under time and again due to...what, really? Irresponsibility on the part of the Labs? Lower-grade servers? Incompetent techs watching the game? What?

But no, it's not them. It's the parents who want zero responsibility for their spawn, who will then shriek like internally irrigated squirrels over the mere concept that their "babies" could have been led astray by Second Life--because as they all know, after all, it's a den of sinful corruption and vice, adultery, homosexual fur orgies, gambling, Mafia crime, pedophilia, and terrorist training (depending on the rumors of the day, and how vapidly dull those hearing the rumors really are).

Tock Mars said (in response to Zyth Hax):

Zyth, you are right. With teens coming to the main grid any adult that wishes to engage in adult behavior should leave Second Life.

And because this is true, a lot of adults are throwing a fit that they are going to lose a safe place to act out.

Forgive them. They will settle down and find some other game to play.

Please be kidding. Please, please, please be kidding. Because if Tock isn't, then that entire comment becomes outrageous. Adults leaving the formerly eighteen-plus-only world that we designed, populated, and helped to create? Why? Why should we?

Of course, this goes back to that whole 'think of the children!' vibe I'm getting off other comments. Again, Second Life is not Gaia. It's not Shinobi Village. It's an adult game, supposedly designed for o why should all our behaviors be restricted to G? Hell no. Screw that.

Zoren Manray said:

IM services and other social sites don't separate adult and teen users and I haven't heard of massive amounts of people getting arrested from the interactions between teens and adults on those services.

Pardon me while I laugh hysterically for a moment. Obviously, Zoren hasn't been paying attention to how many adults are arrested every year for dealings with children. While some aren very nearly defiantly guilty--just like overzealous photography studios and postal workers who carefully pore over pictures of children to determine what might be child pornography, but operate largely on "I'll know it when I see it because I see child pornography IN EVERYTHING"--some are not, and it's a headache for everyone involved. Not the least of which is, SHOULD someone go down as a sex offender, there's no marking for online or offline predation--at least, not yet--so the assumption is (in the eyes of nervous parents, church leaders, and politicians) "Oh dear GODS that man is moving next to our CHURCH and he's on the sex offenders list and I bet he had sex with a nine-year-old and he could be SHOPPING while our KIDS are there and our KIDS COULD BE NEXT to be RAPED TORTURED AND KILLED and he must be STOPPED AT ANY COST--" and other forms of grindingly shrill hysteria.

A significant number of the current crop of sex offenses, by the way? If anyone's curious? Are between kids who were two years apart. Like, eighteen-year-old with a sixteen-year-old. Or a fourteen-year-old with a sixteen-year-old.

Hells, there are cases now where it's a six-year-old who got in trouble for kissing a five-year-old on the cheek, and got arrested, and got CONVICTED, and that's bad; nobody's going to convince me that "unwanted sexual advances" figure in to the five-year-old sharing a hug with a willing companion, people. But it's more or less understandable now--when they're both little kids. In fact, it may even be baffling, over worrisome--"Oh, that's just sad, Shaelee, I can't believe the judge sentenced him--but it's over now, right? How's the little guy doing?"

The problem is going to set in later. What happens when he's fifteen? Twenty-four? FORTY? Because the victim? Will never age.

I'm not saying bad things won't happen with kids on the grid, they will, they happen now, after all. I'm saying that all it's going to take is one big lawsuit and we'll be right back in the midst of child porn hysteria central. Do the Lindens really want that to happen?

Protest all you want on how most teens just want to build and sell and interact in safe spaces in safe ways--sooner or later some ditz (of either gender) is going to hook up with some twink (older or younger), and there's going to be that moment of revelation on one side or the other--"Wait...you're HOW OLD?!?" That is the scenario I don't want to see played out with lurid description on 60 Minutes or The View.

However, I have to admit, Zoren did wind up making a point:

And for those lamenting that Adults will no longer be able to engage in adult behavior in SL have you even read the TOS and community guidelines? You shouldn't have been engaged in those behaviors in PG regions to begin with.

Something we've been screaming about for YEARS at this point...

In Adult regions the risk will be no greater that it is now. To gain access a teen would have to lie about their age to gain access in the same way they can currently lie about their age to get a main grid account. Thus we'll still have the "They misrepresented themselves so I had no idea they were underage" defense we've always had. Just don't start mature behavior with people you've only met in a PG area, have them come to you in an adult area, or check if they're age verified, seriously it isn't that hard people.

And this is absolute truth. In fact, the only hardship I think will happen in these cases is that there are adults, who, for whatever reason, never wanted to age-verify because they themselves did not want access. These selfsame people may see nothing wrong--and there is nothing wrong--with a discreet skybox-bounded bed or rug with adult poses. They just don't want to have to move to Zindra and be faced with everything, all at once.

So, okay, what happens if you meet someone dreamy in a PG area? Get them to go to a Mature area. It's not the end of the world, no; and the Labs are ***SUPPOSED TO*** (I'd make those damned letters BLINK if I could, people!) be age-restricting under-eighteens TO PG/General areas alone. Which should mean--if it works--that they can't access Mature areas any more than they can access Adult. If whomever it is won't--or can't--leave PG land, even for Mature spaces? You have your answer.

Zyth Hax comments again (in response to George Orellana:

Then maybe you should stop having "Virtual Relations" with random people on Second Life and if you say "Why should I have to [stop]" then think, that's what you're saying we should do, you're saying we should have to stop doing what we want to do, and that's enjoying Second Life. And you're right I can't assure you that I'm 18 so maybe it's time to be a bit more careful who you mess around with, just my opinion. ):

Okay, I grant Zyth, and the rest of the Teen Grid, this point: Linden Labs just took away THEIR playground, and they're pissed about it. I get that, I do; I was pissed when they wanted to pop up an all-Adult continent, increasing hassle to everyone and incurring loss of revenue for affected merchants, rather than do the LOGICAL thing and pop up an all-PG (at the time) continent. That still seems like the best idea. Because there are people who want to live away from any potential 'naughtiness'; moreover, as I said at the time, it doesn't HAVE to be a backwater. Make it an art hub, a culture hub, give it gardens, give it statuary, give it amazing views and even more amazing builds to work in, play in, live in. Do the RIGHT thing, the FAIR thing, and make an all-General-rated continent, and make it so amazingly beautiful that it will win awards for innovation on and off the grid.

But no. The Labs aren't going to do that. They're going to force these kids into our playground, and while we're willing to share some things, we don't want or need to share other things with the underage. And it's not specifically the underage we don't trust! It's the Labs. We purely, honestly, rationally do not trust the Labs not to fuck this up.

Put frankly.

I'm not sure if I'm going to read this thread all the way down. I can see a very large battle brewing, and it touches on a lot of things integral to society, family, and the concept of relationship itself, but it can also come down squarely into the simplistic "NO KIDS"/"SCREW YOU, ADULTS" thing I'm already seeing, and...that's not good, either. Once concept becomes dogma, thinking goes out the window. And--though I know the Lindens aren't going to listen on this issue any better than they listened on Zindra, we need to stay rational and (at least somewhat) clear-headed.

But with clear and unwavering--and deeply traumatizing--real life punishments for even online offenses at this point, I can see why some adults are running scared. What I don't get is the attitude from some of the under-eighteens; it goes beyond "Dream on, like I'd be interested in you" into "But we would never never EVER want to kiss icky adults, we just want to build and be free to create"...and frankly? That doesn't ring true, either.

a disease of the mind, it can control you

Frogster, the owner/partial distributor of Runes of Magic, has been acquired by Gameforge, which is causing a few negative ripples through the gaming community. They maintain they're letting Frogster continue to innovate and control Runes, so...we'll see what happens.

I admit, this is the link I've been sending to all my friends of late, because, in and amongst all the other brief mentions of Comic-Con 2010 hype, there was mention of the Avengers movie. Why is this cool? Because leading up to the Avengers movie, there will be other films, including a redoing of Thor. Why is that cool?

Because Marvel, to support their talk, brought a glass case with props made for the movie (one surmises). There were four. Odin's helmet; Thor's helmet; Loki's helm, complete with the dorky curving horns; and...the Infinity Gauntlet. And that, friends and neighbors, has "summer blockbuster/geekgasm" written allll over it.

In further comics news, sometimes comic storylines make your brain cringe. Case in point: the history of Rachel Summers. (And yes, for anyone who doesn't know--that's an accurate recounting of the storyline through several years--and several comic lines. If you really enjoy brain cramps, try on the history of Hawkman for size. Though I would recommend Xorn's comic timeline only for the foolhardy, or for those who hate their brains and want them to die.)

At 2:49 pm, on Wednesday, 4 August, Azriel Demain announced this in a group notice to the FallnAngels:

I'm Back!!!!!
Finally LL has let me back on!
I want to thank each one of you for your support with all of this. For your kind words, gracious thoughts, positive energies, and continued shopping.
A very special thank you goes out to my Tomoyuki Batra for handling everything for me.
I am a very lucky man to have such beautiful Angels backing me.
Thank you all!

So, it's not as bad as it could have been--since he was being told the eighth--but likely he's still scrambling to reallocate funds, unless Des' recommended trick of being put on 'administrative hold' worked. And then there's this:

[17:55] Azriel Demain: whether things are straightened out or not i have no idea.. no linden has ever replied to me yet

So...does that mean he could be banned again? For no perceptible reason? Or does that mean the ban is over? Did the Lindens just forget and lift the ban on a whim? Did they react to pressure from patrons or in-world sources? Was this a reasoned, responsible, reaction to the situation, or was it completely random?

Talk about bad customer service, this is now How to Terrify Customers, parts I through XIV.

However it went, welcome back, Az! Let's hope this is the first and last time you'll be banned.

Thinking from the other side of things for a moment, though, this has confirmed two things, inescapably, in my mind:

• no one is safe, no matter how many sims they own; if there is content deemed infringing by the Labs, they will, sooner or later, act on that information and ban.
• we now have no clue and no good 'warning' system in place for when this happens. If our content, as creators of content, is deemed infringing, we're gone--with no appeals process, and no good inroads to Customer Service. Oh, wait, this is the Labs--there is no Customer Service.

I am a small-time creator even for small-time creators, but I am now going to go through everything I've ever had up for sale to ensure that nothing can be seen by anyone to be actionable. This whole thing scared the hell out of me, and I wasn't the one banned.

At one point during all of this--because we were concerned, we asked Tomo how Azriel was doing--Tomo told us that Az had taken every doll in the house and drowned it in the tub.

I related this tale to Neome, who wasn't online for it, and she first shook her head, the gravity of such an act singing in. Then she pouted.

"I want a drowned doll dress," she said. I honestly think I'll suggest that to Az.

Technology takes odd turns sometimes. Found by William Gibson's wife, and posted on @GreatDismal's Twitter feed (@GreatDismal happens to be William Gibson, for anyone not following along), the Eco-Hime is a sound mask. Which makes the sound of falling water.

Not that odd--I can genuinely see applications for this in spy-to-spy conversations, because turning on the tap or shower acts as a great low-tech way to distort the human voice--but this one's designed to mask the sound of...well...peeing. With falling water.

Isn't there going to be a watery sound either way?

(Also from the Lovelyish blog: four ways to be less clingy. I'd say this works equally well for either gender, and in truth, may well apply more to SL than RL.)

And, getting back to SL matters:

"The simple fact is that, outside of niche activities, as stated, Second Life simply isn't ready for big business to pay anything more than a cursory interest in it; there is simply nothing here that is compelling for big business to invest time, effort and money in SL on an ongoing basis."

She's not wrong.

Finally, one of the staffers over at MMORPG is pondering the concept of detective MMOs. Now, me, I read those words and immediately I started thinking about all the tropes in noir and pulp circulars, powerful hook-nosed men who skulked in the shadows in trenchcoats and felt hats, devastatingly sexy femme fatales with poisoned lipstick and coded messages.

Instead? I got Police Quest, which always made me think of Leslie Nielson. Errrgh.

Still, it is an intriguing question, noir influences or not--would a mystery premise sustain for a full MMO? That's half the fun of BioShock after all; and a lot of simpler games have used finding clues as a way to push story elements along. Even Octoberville works on a mystery motif--and finding those clues is the challenge each year!

It might not work, in the large sense that MMOs seem to function on. But it's worth a try. I'm hoping someone considers the idea, and guns for funding.

So to speak.

not a soul on the ice, only me skating fast

night, lift up the shades
let in the brilliant light of morning

spider
spider spider spider
all those legs and lurking in the dark
staring at me

I don't mind the staring
I mind what it's trying to do
I mind what these dreams mean
I mind what they're telling me

but steady there now
for I am weak and starving for mercy

is my subconscious that unaware?
does anyone think I don't know what the risks are?
does anyone think I don't know
just how much I stand to lose?

I step forward
I step--
one step, one step, walking forward

walking on dying embers and glass shards, diamond-bright and splintered
walking on broken bones that turn and twist underfoot
walking, even if I have to walk in ever-widening circles
walking forward

sleep has left me alone
to carry the weight of unravelling where we went wrong

moving because it's what I have, it's what I fall back on
like breathing, even though I keep forgetting to breathe
late at night I will wake myself with huge inrushes of air
and I know
I've forgotten to inhale again

it's all I can do to hang on

rubble beneath my feet
primed to turn an ankle
skeleton keys and flanges, wood and stone, carved and grown
grains of sand, grains of wheat, grains of hard red rice
sharp hard shattered chunks of craze-cracked green glass
blue and brown frosted pebbles
worn smooth by the endless tumble in a turmoil sea

to keep me from falling
into old familiar shoes

splashes of color on the uneven ground
as if some great dying beast who bled liquid paint
staggered through

it has been at least two months
since I talked to any of my old friends
it has been longer still since I talked to any old loves, barring one
there are tremors of finality in the air

everything changes
everything falls apart

I have severed ties with the Consulate
I have very nearly severed ties with Caledon
I go back and forth on whether to sell my last remaining parcel
I'm not sure these days what's keeping me there

love has made me a fool
it set me on fire and watched as I floundered

no social activities, even the ones I wanted to attend
the last two weeks have been barren of so much
I've talked to a few people, but always, always
at a distance

winnowing
through the life I'm leading
deciding what's nourishing
and what's chaff
what I can discard
what I must retain
(at all costs? any cost? on a whim?)

unable to speak
except to cry out and wait for your answer

a change is needed
it's been too long, stuck in place, frozen, shrinking
from the demands of movement

I am going to rebuild the store, in my time away from
building on the last sim in Solace
and refocus my energies on what I told myself
I was going to focus on six months ago

can't stop to feel myself losing control
but deep in my senses I know

third time charming
or something like that
and we'll see what happens then

(Lyrics taken in small uneven sections from Sarah McLachlan's Stupid.)

every injured soul needs a silent hand to hold

I visited Mirror at long last, for the art installation It Was a Blur.

This has actually been up for three weeks now, but I've been so busy the past few days. I needed some quiet.

This? Is that quiet place you seek. This is that still center point. This is a blur--of motion, of time, of decision.

Static.

In some places there are poses. In some places there are things to buy, things to look at.

There are a series of notes, each more or less in a spiral, walking outwards. They're small, and you can pick them up and take them with you.

I plan on scattering mine on a small isle I know...

I know I will need to come back again. I've been there twice, to that distant, vague space, suffused with white and grey. I'll need to return at least once more.

There are birds, there are boxes, there are clouds. There is mist. There are lit bricks along the pale path. There is industry and evaporation. There might be music.

There are two figures, standing in the haze. One carries the other. Are both looking up, or only one? It's hard to tell.

I stand behind them, peering through the cold, pale mist. I read the words, endlessly rotating, around the procession of figures.

Don't be afraid..

Okay.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery once said, "Perhaps love is the process of my leading you gently back to yourself." This is that space. This is that moment.

There is a tattoo for sale, on the ground, as all the items are, moments of slightly brighter color against the white. It says, Everything's going to be all right.

I bought it, even though I only wear one tattoo, and have nearly since I arrived on the grid. But it seemed important to own.

Everything's going to be all right. Yes. But right now...it's a blur.

Become part of Blur while it's here; you have until the 16th of August. Then remember it when it's gone. All good art touches us, and then departs, or we depart from it. This one, I have a feeling...will linger.

for where I trusted I am begeld, and all for love of one

but still, I've got to get out of this place
'cause I don't think I can face another night
where I'm half sick of shadows
and I can't see the sky--
everyone else can watch as the tide comes in
so why can't I?

It's been a bumpy morning so far, and it started last night.

[02:23] Second Life: Your object 'Object' has been returned to your inventory lost and found folder by you from parcel 'PRIM BONUS LAND - NO MORE OBJECTS' at Good Day Sunshine 133, 239.

This is what happens when we build while tired. Oops.

Though I admit, there's heavy irony in building something--by sanction of the sim owner--on something explicitly labeled "NO MORE OBJECTS".

and you were there when I
built my tower like pebbles in the rain
trying to balance all that I had left
with what I didn't have anymore

Most of it, I honestly feel, comes down to interrupted sleep, and almost nil social interaction. I'm working on both, but I admit, I'm pouring heart and soul into the sidewalk project currently, so even if I got offers to socialize, I'd likely turn them down.

If I'm in world--and I'm not at the sales office--I'm generally building. I may take brief small breaks, just to breathe a bit, but then it's back to working or sales.

and would you tear my castle down
stone by stone
and let the wind run through my windows
'til there was nothing left but a battered rose

On the other hand, this is also what I do when I'm wounded. I withdraw. I push people away. I make excuses, I turn aside, I make jokes, I fall apart only when alone and unobserved.

I'm not saying these are good ways to interact, either with myself or with the world. It's just how I am.

we need a helping hand
we have lost our touch
if his shadow appears
we're going to fall apart
I mean we got addicted long time ago
but that spooky, old giant won't withdraw

In the meantime, still dealing with tower metaphors, because I'm still rebuilding. I may be for some time.


(Tower card from the Legacy of the Divine Tarot deck.)

"In a moment, it is over. The Tower is rubble, only rocks remaining. Stunned and shaken to the core, the Fool experiences grief, profound fear and disbelief. But also, a strange clarity of vision, as if his inner eye has finally opened. He tore down his resistance to change and sacrifice (Hanged man), then broke free of his fear and preconceptions of death (Death); he dissolved his belief that opposites cannot be merged (Temperance) and shattered the chains of ambition and desire (The Devil). But here and now, he has done what was hardest: destroyed the lies he held about himself. What's left is the bare, absolute truth. On this he can rebuild his soul." (from the http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/">Aeclectic Tarot site)

It's not just that the tower has fallen. All the hopes and dreams, all the lies and self-aggrandizing claims, all of it rubble--that's not the important thing. I have fallen before, I have rebuilt before, I will do it again, I am doing it now.

That's not the point.

The point is that this is the first time I'm trying not to rush through things. I am very much past good at spackle and picture-hanging, obscuring damage with a fresh coat of paint and a trailing hand gesturing towards the view. "Look, it's so much better now, you can see the ocean from the clerestory window." Ignore that the structure is sinking beneath the sands and the foundation is broken...

I will swallow
if it will help my sea level go down
I'll take a deep deep breath
but I'll come back to haunt you if I drown

And this is both a new and fresh boon, and the thing that's driving those around me mental--because progress in slow steps looks exactly like stagnation and lack of any forward momentum, at times, from the outside. And I can't seem to find the words that I need to tell them I'm still working on things, save...to say I'm still working on things.

I want to apologize to everyone, but at the same time, I have to move slowly. Carefully. There's a lot of damage, and I'm dealing with it on my own. Those who love me can support me--and are--but at the end of the day, it's just me inside the same head. I've said this before, but it doesn't stop being true.

I need to know that this isn't going to be another wrapping of broken limbs while I push myself to get back to life at large. I have to take the time it's going to take. I have to heal. And I heal slowly, I always have.

etiolation emphasized by merry thoughts
once broken by
moonlight
oh, brighter to have never loved
than gather ghosts of the blinding
relentless sun idealized in you--

And it may go without need of speaking it, that I am not used to this. It sends me spinning on occasion, off-balance, but--even that, I have to accept, and take in stride. I will have bad days and good days; I am healing. I will have stable days and unstable days; I am healing. It's just that there's nothing I can point to, no outward sign, and even I do not know if I'm getting better, or getting worse, and I won't until I'm on the other side of it.

I'm moving yet, but am I moving down or up? I don't know. This is such a precarious position to be in.

so you've returned to lengthen my shadow
to once again shatter my windows...

And yes, it is like this. Yes, I wonder if I've made mistakes, am continuing to make mistakes. Yes, I wonder on the what ifs. Yes, I worry that whatever I'm evolving into will be something harder and harsher and stranger, and maybe someone less able to love, and be loved.

I can't help that. I am trying to talk, and stay open, and still heal, and still move, and...it's so tiring, it's exhausting, and it's never over, and won't be for some time to come.

you were my everything
my apparitional faith
where are you when I am screaming to my God
what am I coming to

But there's nothing else I can do. I have to do what I feel I can, I have to heal as best I can, and tell myself that, while "normal" people may not see things at night, it's not as if this is new territory for me, and if it is a sign of some deeper trauma, then we'll deal with that when we get there. No one's dog is telling me to kill people. Angels inside my head aren't telling me to hurt my family. In that, at least, my hallucinations are harmless and (mostly) non-traumatic.

(I could do with less bugs on the walls.

(But we move on.)

out of bed I creep
to climb this tower of shame
but the hour's still the same
only madness knows my name

Because that is the current rock I'm clinging to, these days, the aphorism that states, If you think you're going mad...you aren't. Because mad people don't know they're mad.

And I am rather desperately hoping that's true, as I watch leaves flicker into characters on trees, and read words that aren't there on the metal railing above my bed. I am really, really hoping this is just a phase, and when I'm more stable, when I'm better, all this will stop.

if I had another place to go
would you break me? is it that you know
I have no choice but to rebuild again
I'm tied so hard I can't remember when
I last walked free upon these feet of mine

And do I have a choice? I've made the choices I've can, and I may yet move to make more, but--right now, this is what I've got. Even if it's a small circle of earth between my feet, this much is clear. And I will widen my territory as I can, and allow in those I can trust, and it will feel less like standing still and more like recovery.

Day by day. Hour by hour. Moment by moment, if I have to. I am not dead yet. So I'm not down.

(Lyrics taken from Emilie Autumn's Shalott; Emilie Autumn's Castle Down [first & second selection]; Bel Canto's Shimmering, Warm & Bright; Emilie Autumn's Swallow; Faith & the Muse's Sparks; Faith & the Muse's Patience Worth; Emilie Autumn's Castle Down again; Emilie Autumn's 4 O'Clock; and one last time, Emilie Autumn's Castle Down.