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Story [Feb. 19th, 2011|01:48 pm]
I am trying to develop a story that I can tell in comic-book format. Here is the outline, so far...

Premise: In the far future, the environment has finally recovered after a large-scale nuclear/environmental disaster. There are two major human civilizations: people who survived by retreating to high-tech underground tunnels, and people whose ancestors barely scraped by in the post-apocolyptic world after the disaster.

One day, a little girl in the underground world finds a sealed jar that contains all the divine force of the world. She opens the jar and the spirit escapes into the surface world! Because the spirit has been trapped, nobody in the world has experienced any sense of spirituality for thousands of years, so all religion and mythology has died out in human culture. But as this spirit travels around, taking different forms and possessing animals according to its random whims, the people who witness it experience a sense of genuine religious wonder, and then mis-interpret the spirit's actions to create new beliefs and religions.

A few years later, the girl who released the spirit isn't allowed to get married until she recaptures it. So she goes to the Surface in order to follow its trail. Meanwhile, two princes from the capital city of the Surface World are sent to find out more about the Underground World's recent forays to the Surface. They hear about this divine spirit, and want it for themselves - one to use it to control the population in a religious dictatorship, and the other to reach enlightenment. The story follows the adventures of all these people as they travel around amazing landscapes; meet different villages of people and find out about the ways their society is transformed by sudden mythology; and fight against each other to capture what is basically God.

More exhaustive details after the cutCollapse )
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(no subject) [Dec. 23rd, 2010|03:31 pm]
When I look at other peoples' photo albums on facebook, I feel jealous of the extremely fun lives they are having - travelling, wandering, friendship, goofy photos, adventuring in the outdoors.

But when I look at my own photo albums, my albums have just as many photos of me doing those things. My photo album makes me look like a fun person - but I don't feel like one. I feel like I'm boring, responsible, clean-living, solitary.

I suppose everyone probably feels the same way about their lives. Obviously, online photo albums accentuate the fun moments and leave out the mundane, so maybe this fun-jealousy is easy to explain.

Still, I sometimes feel deficient in fun. Like I am doing fun things, but not really enjoying them fully. Or that I'm afraid to take risks in life - not because I fear the consequences, but because I feel like I won't enjoy the action. Like having fun won't really be fun. Like if I decide to screw responsibility and just do whatever I please, I'll be unable to think of anything I even want to do.
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(no subject) [Dec. 11th, 2010|06:06 pm]
Something I wrote a month or two ago:

In a fairy tale, the tears of a woman in love are the only thing that can wake up her lover, unfreeze him, bring him back from the dead, turn him back from stone, so that he comes alive and comforts and loves her.

Fairy tales honour innocent girls, loving women, purity of heart, open giving, the woman who treks barefoot in winter through a dangerous forest. Her loving sacrifice, her boundless loyalty for the man she loves will protect her from all evil, and will be the only thing to overcome more powerful forces, forces of captivity, death, statis. Her footsteps make the flowers grow, the animals talk, the birds sing, spring arrive. She is snared temporarily by evil forces who want to keep her or use her or defile her or enslave her or kill and eat her, but as long as she keeps in her heart the memory of her true love, she will overcome.

In real life, the love of a woman has the power to thaw the heart of a man, but this only sets him free, and does not bring them together. If she is lucky, he will say thank you, and acknowledge the sacrifice she makes. But it is not enough to bind him to her in everlasting love. In real life, the rescued man sees the innocent, loving, beautiful, loyal girl as a witch who wants to enslave him with her love, keep him from moving forward, trap him in a cottage full of delicious food and sweets and beautiful flowers, where his true nature will wither away and die.
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(no subject) [Nov. 7th, 2010|08:06 pm]
You know what, I can't spend my time worrying about this. I can only control my own actions. No matter what strategems I use, it's his decision and I can't spend all this effort trying to figure him out. There was more texting today, along the same lines, and I told him I'd call probably him in a few weeks.

In the meantime, gotta get my head straight!
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I'm okay, he's okay [Oct. 27th, 2010|08:52 pm]
Whenever I think of him with sadness, I tell myself, "He's not dead... he's still alive, he still exists, he's still a good person, and is probably happy and enjoying his life." It's a difficult thing for me to separate love and admiration from possessiveness. I don't mean that I act overly possessive when I'm in a relationship, but I mean that this is a strategy for simultaneously allowing for the validity of my feelings towards him (e.g. I think he's a good person) but not allowing myself to think that his good qualities are only there for my direct enjoyment. A way of letting go, in a healthy way, that doesn't involve historical revisionism. I don't have to go through the relationship and try to find bad things about it, or overexaggerate his faults or our incompatibilities. I don't have to hate him in order to not be attached to him.

So, I'm getting rid of the attachment, while still keeping some form of good feeling towards him. It's still love, but a different kind.

The way I've written this, it sounds as though I'm focussing on him. But I find myself thinking of him less often, and when he comes to mind, it's without an emotional blow. I can look back at the positive aspects of what we had, without feeling like it's unfair that it's gone.

And I think I'm starting to see myself as being also a worthwhile person too, not just as in, "I'm awesome and attractive, which will allow me to attract another man and be happy by making him happy" but in terms of being a valid person on my own, without a partner. I'm worth my own while. I'm not thinking of trying to find somebody else, right now, but we'll see what happens. I probably wouldn't turn down an opportunity, but I'm not desperate for one to come along... yet.
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(no subject) [Oct. 13th, 2010|07:05 pm]
I had a half-awake dream where the love I had given came back to me, in the form of a bird flying back into my ribcage, from where I had chosen to send it. I think the bird was grey-coloured rather than white. It was an encouraging, sponaneous metaphor that arrived in my head like an image.

And then I dreamt that I was getting it on with two different guys at once. Is this the beginning of the healing process? Is it a SIGN?

I actually felt a lot better today. I felt cheerful. I think it's good that I've been fully exploring the depths of my painful feelings, acknowledging them and not being ashamed. Now I can see that there are other things in my future. Compared to being in love, the little goals and interests and events of the single life looks so dull and pointless. But compared to the despair of heartbreak, those little things will be welcomed joyfully.

And it's times like these that I really appreciate my friends. I hope I am as caring of a friend as the friends I have. Sometimes when I'm happy, I like to pretend misery doesn't exist. But having someone reach out to you is worth so much.
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(no subject) [Oct. 12th, 2010|04:15 pm]
I think I've done enough analysis and had enough post-breakup communication with my ex-boyfriend to understand the situation. I can actually see things from his point of view, that even though there were basically no problems in our relationship, and he appreciated how I treated him, he still wasn't ready to be in a relationship, and didn't think it was fair to lead me on. I can even imagine that being happy being single could be good for him. I can look back and see that there were ways in which he wasn't willing to be connected to me.

In the beginning, I analysed and decided that he was a relatively safe choice to fall in love with, which was a reasonable decision given the information at the time. And whenever I get involved with someone, I know there is always a chance of a breakup, but I just think, "I've gone through it and gotten over it before. It's just a couple weeks of pain, of purging an attachment, and then a recovery period before I can try again. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

But I just fell for him SO completely. I don't actually think I've been as loving and giving to anyone. The previous guys I've dated were more or less meant to be temporary. This time, I chose somebody in whose character and circumstances I didn't see any barriers.

It's not that I put my own life on the sidelines either - having him around in my life actually made me feel more free to pursue my own interests and friends and activities. But I thought I had found someone deserving of my love, and I chose to give it all to him. Here was this super attractive, loyal and caring man who felt self-conscious, shy and scared, and I just wanted to take care of him in a way that made him see how awesome he is. And I did help make him stronger. It just seems ironic and unfair that now he's leaving me after benefitting from our relationship. Neither of us really intended it that way.

He KNOWS he's taking a big risk by breaking up with me, and he said so. I can conceive of the possibility that he might come back - although this would only be appropriate after both of us recover from our attachment to each other, and he does whatever guys need to do when they need to be single, and becomes stronger on his own, not because of the comfort of a lovestruck woman. And I would need to be not as pathetic as I am right now - not coming back to each other for comfort.

But what would we be for each other at that point? If I subtract my love and attachment to him, and his for me, what is there between us? Are we a really compatible couple that was meant to be? Do we have enough shared history and deep connection, true friendship, to make this worth fighting for? I think he actually cut it off because he couldn't foresee us getting to that point. My friend was explaining to me that it's necessary to have some kind of shared goal in a relationship. I am starting to see that we're kind of at different stages in terms of what we want currently. Maybe his goal will change?...

I am so sick of break-ups and all the things I do to recover from them. There are places in the city where I've gone for long walks by myself while brooding upon an ended relationship. And later I've gone walking in those places with a new boyfriend, a way of erasing the pain it had, and making it into a new, positive memory. In some situations it's even repeated that pattern twice or more. This has happened way too many times for me to be interested in any meaningful walks any more. I don't want to layer any place with this pain and suffering, again.

It's only been like a WEEK since the breakup. I've estimated that I'm only going to cry all day for two weeks. I don't even know if that's accurate. I fucking HATE this. I don't want to get in shape, go shopping, get dressed up, go out drinking, meet new people to raise my self-esteem, because my self-esteem is NOT low. I'm very, very happy to hang out with friends, because it takes my mind off things, but I still need to face this pain for a while, and cry it all out. I don't want to make artwork, because I've made shitty sad-artwork before, and it really doesn't end up being that good. I can't write down a list of all our fights or the things I hated about him, because there weren't any.

It all sounds so trite when I write it down. I'm analytic and expressive, but there's no way to convey this pain of separation from someone I desperately want to be with. I know that we've all felt it. But I'm getting sick of it. Do I just have to wait? Is this like detox or something, waiting for the addiction to dissipate? Will I be able to bounce back and give my love fully again, if I'm so lucky as to find another worthy guy, or will I be the one to withdraw and disappoint in the next relationship?

Thanks Livejournal.
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Damon [Oct. 7th, 2010|01:54 pm]
So I only post on livejournal when I'm really happy or really upset. To me it's just a depository of emo, made for the pitifulness of a diary entry, but pseudo-public.

For the last eight months I've been in a wonderful relationship with a really amazing man who made me very happy. One of the rare, special people who makes friends for life, who cares deeply about them, very sincere, open to experiences, joyful, active, exciting. Didn't seem afraid of commitment, or cagey, or fearful. Very appreciative of me and of how well I treated him, making me feel special and beautiful and smart and loveable in return. He appreciated me. I was feeling blissful. I looked forward to getting to know him even better. I felt comforted, like I had finally found someone I could trust, and could hope for a future together.

And completely unexpectedly, he broke up with me this past weekend. At first it sounded like he needed to sort his own life out (career, etc), and it was painful for him to dump me, and he sounded like he wanted to take it back and try again. But after talking with him it turns out more that although he thought I was basically the greatest girlfriend ever (i.e. "If I made a list of every quality I would want in a girlfriend, you would exceed all my expectations"), there was some kind of connection that was missing somehow. He said he couldn't really explain it very well. But I think I understand. Sometimes you just don't really truly love someone. It's not his fault, or anybody's fault. But it hurts, because I really gave him everything I have. I thought we had a connection, even if he thought it was only there in moments.

This is not really any different than any other breakup. It's just a breakup. It sucks, it hurts, I know I will recover from it. But it hurts to have the person you care about, who brings you joy, who it's fun to do pretty much nothing with and it's still joyful, end it, and turn into someone you don't talk to any more, you have to unfriend them and their friends on facebook because it's painful to see carefree status-updates or pictures, and worst of all, you aren't loving them, being with them any longer.

It's been a tough few days. At first I was trying to figure out if he was going to want me back (because there had been hints), and what I should do in that case. But since finding out that it's actually a percieved lack of real, true chemistry, on his part, I am crying even more, for the sadness inherent in this lack of connection between two good people, people who tried, or that I connected to him but he didn't connect to me, or that he found me incapable of the true and deep feelings, the amazing connection, that he's had before. Sometimes I hate myself for my cynicism, and I feel like even my friendships revolve too much around cleverness and trying to be cool, to be detatched. I liked that he didn't have this quality. I did open myself up completely to him, and it hurts that it wasn't enough, or it wasn't right. I feel deficient.

At the same time, now that I know what I am mourning for, it feels like the kind of pain that can eventually be cried all out and gotten over and moved forward from.

Even writing it down like this helps somewhat. It turns the pain from being a huge frightening nonsensical unknown, into some kind of a story that I can eventually look back upon. A story that was good, but it's over. When I write it out it sounds completely trite, pat, cut-and-dry, not at all the way it feels. I loved, it was good, I was rejected, I lost him.

I loved him so much, and I really miss him.
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Songs of Maldoror [Jan. 31st, 2010|10:08 am]
I copied this quote down from a library book. This text is super disgusting and gruesome, but also extremely hilarious and fascinating to me.

The Songs of Maldoror (1869)
Count of Lautreamont (Isidore-Lucien Ducasse)

I am dirty. Lice are gnawing at me. When they see me, even swine vomit. The scabs and cracks of leprosy have peeled away my skin, covered with yellowish pus. I know nothing of the waters of the rivers, nor the dew. On the nape of my neck, as atop a dung heap, an enormous fungus is growing, with umbelliferous peduncles. Seated on top of a shapeless piece of furniture, I have not moved my limbs for four centuries. My feet have put down roots in the ground and have become, as far as my belly, a kind of living vegetation, full of ignoble parasites, not yet a plant but no longer flesh. Yet my heart beats. But how could it beat, if the putrefaction and the exhalations from my cadaver (I dare not say body) did not nourish it abundantly? Under my left armpit, a body of toads has taken up residence and, when one of them moves, it tickles. Take care that one of them does not escape and come to scratch the inside of your ear with its mouth: it would be capable of penetrating your brain. Under my right armpit, a chameleon hunts them unceasingly, so as not to die of hunger: all must live. But when one party completely foils the strategies of the other, they find nothing better to do than feel embarrassed, and suck the delicate fat covering my ribs; I'm used to it. An evil viper has devoured my penis and has taken its place: he has made me a eunuch, the villain [...]

Two small hedgehogs, who have stopped growing, threw to a dog, who did not refuse, the inner parts of my testicles. They now live inside the skin [of the scrotum], which they have carefully washed. My anus has been taken over by a crab; encouraged by inertia, the crab occupies the entrance with his pincers and it really hurts me! Two jellyfish have crossed the seas, instantly attracted by a hope that was not dashed. They observed attentively the two fleshy parts that form the human backside and then, clinging to their convex form, they applied such constant pressure that the two pieces of flesh have vanished, leaving two monsters that have emerged from the realm of viscosity, equal in colour, shape, and ferocity. And don't mention my spinal column for it is a sword.
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new place [Nov. 9th, 2009|09:33 pm]
I'm super happy in my new apartment!! It's less than 200 square feet, the floors are creaky and slanted, the shared bathroom is in the hallway upstairs, the tap drips, and I don't really have a proper curtain yet, but the vibes are good. I just love being here.

Before I moved in, I had nightmares that it would be too small - in these dreams, I would discover a secret passageway, or unnoticed door that led to more rooms. But I'm glad I went with this place anyway. The rent is cheap, there's compost, it's close to everything, and the housemates are pretty alright.

I'm getting a lot done in the evenings - trying out new recipes, stocking up on homemade spaghetti sauce, vegetable broth, ghee, reading great books and graphic novels from the library near work, making ink and watercolour drawings on the tiny little kitchen table. When I'm walking to the grocery store or bank, I run into people I know from art school. There are tons of restaurants within walking distance from my house, and I often find that when my friends have meetings, they're located nearby.

I can walk for ten minutes and get to the Canada Line. I can ride my bike down Main street, take one left turn, and get to the secret Seabus entrance within fifteen minutes.

I can leave the dishes in the sink for two days. There can be socks all over the floor. I can put up whatever posters I feel like. I don't have to listen to someone else's music, or listen to roommate's problems. Not that I mind those things - having roommates is a great way to get to know people as well.

My dad came over to see the place, started laughing, and said, "They should take pictures of this house to show to kids, to tell them to get a good job and make lots of money, so they don't have to live in a place like this." It was really rude, but I wasn't that worried - I'm doing almost exactly what I want to do at this point in my life.

I think it's fair to offer advice or criticism to somebody who's unhappy, who isn't acheiving their own goals. But criticizing someone's goal, their chosen lifestyle, and telling them they should want something else, is almost completely pointless.
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