Things rarely change, right? So after not posting here to this dear, dear diary of a blog for a while, things are probably not a whole lot different. Well yes and no. I'm definitely in a better position, a career, than I was before. Now I spend most of my time working on getting into a new home so that maybe I can get back to work on DISPLACED. The Orioles still suck, and yet I stay with them always, always... Addiction, to whatever, is probably the most ridiculous mountain you could ever hope to climb. It reminds me of the literal mountain in Vampire Hunter D: Raiser of Gales in which curious humans begin a climb to the castle ruins above, only to remain stuck in a timeless void, climbing for eternity entrenched in a hopeless bubble never to reach the top. So to say that I've gone days without that precious synthetic optimism would be meaningless. Who cares? It could be with me for decades. Perhaps it's the journey of ridding myself of the stuff that I'm doing all wrong? I need a whole new approach.
As a side note: the aforementioned castle on a hill is probably the biggest influence on this story in all of the vampire literature I've read. It seemed amazing the possibilities of science in the future, and this moment in chapter 1 coerced me to write what I want to write, no matter how plausible today. Aint Science Fiction great?
While things are really going much better for me as of late, it's the story that I am missing most. Strange feeling it is to find comfort in a fictional world, but with depression comes escape. So, while I'm not suffering so much these warm spring days, I still want to get away, back into that ficitional Baltimore where creatures of the night stir and there is this obstensible air of adventure in the air, and the seasons can change on my whim alone.
As a side note: the aforementioned castle on a hill is probably the biggest influence on this story in all of the vampire literature I've read. It seemed amazing the possibilities of science in the future, and this moment in chapter 1 coerced me to write what I want to write, no matter how plausible today. Aint Science Fiction great?
While things are really going much better for me as of late, it's the story that I am missing most. Strange feeling it is to find comfort in a fictional world, but with depression comes escape. So, while I'm not suffering so much these warm spring days, I still want to get away, back into that ficitional Baltimore where creatures of the night stir and there is this obstensible air of adventure in the air, and the seasons can change on my whim alone.
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