Real Life

In Abstract -z- apologies for concurrence for no other post could be let out.

I’m having a hard time meeting anyone’s eyes. I feel strange and out of sorts. I’ve got reddish-purple bruises appearing and disappearing at my finger joints. Like I hold my mug in my left hand and for hours later my fingers look like they’ve got liver spots.

I did fine for years without medication. Really I did.

I mean sure, in that time period I probably had more “Here’s money if you let me marry her” proposals than the average person, but it was Nevada! A lot of Mormon guys take their sister-wives cruising. Like, “See, they’re happy and alive. You would be too.”

It didn’t take me long to realize that polygamist Mormons are not like the Amish. Sure, the ladies’ outfits were similar, but he was dressed like Colonel Sanders.

I was fine without meds for years. The problem is that when you start thinking you need them, it’s too late. You’re already off the rails, with imaginary car door slams and an ever encroaching sense that They are out to get you. Whether it’s the police or the tax man or some stranger busting in–the fear is real. And the cause is a lack of vital nutrient in the brain.

Sometimes I have bad days. And even if I’m up, it’s still a bad day because my mood is outside of my control. Angry, empathetic, enthusiastic–they shouldn’t be anything. Except sometimes they’re all too much.

You start talking about something you really love and enjoy. Everyone’s interested and onboard. Until suddenly they’re not or you’re not and it’s awkward and weird but you don’t know how to leave the room.

This guy, he keeps going on about garbage–“The problem’s already been solved, but I still think we should have used #4 switches. I know they’re not going to switch over to my idea–did you see what I did there? :wink:”–but they could at least…”–but you feel bad for him. He’s showing emotions and making gestures to emphasize his points, he’s distraught and you’re trapped in his sphere of nonsense because you can’t get up the wherewithal to hurt his feelings in even the tiniest of ways. Even though there’s a million other things to talk about.

And all those little annoyances that come with a ramped up sense of empathy translate to a bucket load of irritation. Which on top of a runaway sense of enthusiasm, leaves very little room for thoughtfulness. Instead it becomes snapped out responses and an assumption that other people are following the conversation happening in my head. Who knows, maybe some people are.

What it all comes down to is that I fell apart and I never put myself back together. Now I’m lost without a clue but I’m trying.


I’ve been writing more Darkstar stuff lately. “Just Another Titanic Tuesday” features the Darkstar from the Kanon universe.

His life started darker than canon-Vereint’s, or at least that’s the way it’s become. It seems to fit though. There had to be more than no-Warrick for him to conquer all of Megacity and be okay with millions of thralls.

Darkstar tried so hard to be a hero, but it was doomed to failure. It couldn’t work in a world where Sandra Georges was sentenced to life in a penitentiary for criminally insane metahumans.

“Black Friday” was a different event for Darkstar. And it’s made him both darker and more desperate for any happiness he can get.

I’m making “Just Another Titanic Tuesday” into a story game. It will also be a book, but I think the game is a nice bonus.



JATT: King of the World
We can’t all be the king of the world. Sometimes it’s like candy: It melts away in the rain.

Just Another Titanic Tuesday

Chapter One: King of the world

Somewhere out there, past the universe where everything went good and right, there’s the universe where Blue Ice died before they ever had a chance to meet. And in that universe, Starburst became Darkstar and there was never anyone that he loved enough to be Vereint for.

It never felt as though he lost track of himself. It was more as if he’d never existed at all.

Darkstar wallowed in the adulation of his thralls. They would do anything for him. But it was empty, because they didn’t really love him. They loved whatever image his power impressed upon them, whatever unmatchable deity they dared to liken him to.

He’d existed in something like contentment for years. He’d been the king of the world and nothing could bring him down.

Until there was a rip in spacetime and his alternate universe self was looking at him with tragic eyes. For a moment, he’d fully understood why other people found him beautiful. Then that other-Vereint–that not-Darkstar–had opened his mouth: “When are you going to get off your ass, dickbag? People are fucking dying here and you’re playing king of the motherfucking world. Stop being a shithead! Help us. Now.”

And because it was some other universe version of himself making the demand, he’d stepped up and helped.

Because of him multiple worlds got saved. And he felt like shit, or maybe he felt like a shithead; either way, he found himself feeling dissatisfied with his life.

He didn’t blame that other Vereint. If he had a love to protect, he’d move heaven and hell too. It was just the emptiness he hated, the realization that he’d been living an empty life full of empty gestures.

It was at his lowest point that he decided enough was enough.

If that other-Vereint could come to his world, what stopped him from moving to another? It wasn’t like he had to fear attack–if anyone managed to take him out, he figured they deserved the honor–and there wasn’t anyone he felt like giving a goodbye to.

Vereint was driven by the growing sense of purpose to contact Dr. Zee. He knew the superscientist could be trusted–the man was Charm-addled to the point of cruel humor–and he was undeniably brilliant. There was a reason the League of Superheroes went to him with their biggest problems despite the hefty price he attached to his services.

On the day he contacted Dr. Zee and explained what he wanted, Vereint took an hour long walk in a park first. Far away from Megacity and its oh-so loving citizens, he welcomed the anonymity of a charcoal gray hoodie, a black baseball cap, and a pair of dark sunglasses.

He was just one more person amongst a crowd of people as he crossed streets and entered the open gate of the pretty park with its duck pond and rolling green hills. He strolled the paved paths and purchased a hotdog from a white aproned vendor. Nobody pointed and stared, he could pretend that he was anyone; and with the last bite of hotdog he finalized his decision.

Let’s blow this popsicle stand, he thought.

And something that felt a lot like hope passed through his chest.

/END

I am so frustrated. All I want is a simple photo viewer that allows me to arrow/space bar through my pictures. But of course Windows 10 dropped that capability. Because why would someone want to look through their photos quickly?

That’s dumb. We all want to open big apps and spend hours trying to get the bundled Photos program to recognize various folders. That’s what people love: wasting time.

Because that’s what time is there for, to be wasted. Because we’re all going to live forever and there’s nothing else we want to do than to wait for some bloated program to open, decide that it won’t see any other pictures in a folder–or even recognize the folder at all–and frustration is like medicine. Or poison. One of those.

Ugh. I’m very set in my ways and I hate change.

So having to reset Windows 10 the other day, which resulted in the loss of a bunch of stuff, is already an experience I wish I could have avoided. But it is what it is.

Change is inevitable.

But does it have to be so fucking frustrating, Microsoft? Really? Do you have to make everything some giant uphill struggle so that the thought of switching to Linux or some kind of Windows-alternative starts seeming like a version of heaven?

Because really, all I need is Scrivener, OpenOffice or LibreOffice, Semagic, and some way to view and edit photos and I’ll be satisfied. And unfortunately, 4 out of 5 is not acceptable for all of my years of loyalty to Windows software.

And all the ways you’ve invaded my privacy in recent years, Microsoft? Your insistence on access to my private data so you can send it to your HQ for some inane reason? Fuck you very much.

*

I’m just so tired of fighting Windows all the time.

I’m tired of not being able to do the things I want with my own computer.

I’m tired of the weird programs turning on and doing things in the background at the behest of Microsoft.

I’m tired of having to go through after every update and check that my Privacy settings haven’t been reset to “Share everything with Microsoft”, because honestly, I don’t want to share squat with Microsoft.

I want to turn on my computer, edit documents, and watch YouTube videos of cats frolicking.

I don’t want my screen to keep freezing and my data to be lost. I don’t want my computer to shut itself off and turn itself on without letting me know what’s going on or giving me a warning to save my stuff. I don’t want to suddenly have everything S-L-O-W way down as some hidden Windows process begins doing something I can’t track or figure out why it’s happening.

I want my computer back!

Mike's Harder Lemonade: Deadpool version God, now I want a drink. So, thanks for that Microsoft. If I turn into an alcoholic, I’ll know who to blame:

Deadpool.

Seriously, it is very professional. Clean friendly people in tucked in polos and nice pants. A neat display of products, all properly packaged and labeled.

They’re running a store.

It’s not a mom-and-pop operation where they’re breaking out the scales and bagging their own stuff as you buy.

They order marijuana from packagers, so it’s all weighed out and trimmed. Everything is sealed up and pretty much quality guaranteed.

There’s something nice about not having to hang out in a car or visit someone’s shady house to get weed. Being able to walk into a store and pick up what you want without having to feel like a criminal… it’s nice.

Because that’s the thing. Weed is legal*.

There is nothing wrong with walking into a store and buying $10 worth of weed and a bag of Pebbles marijuana candy. As long as you’re old enough and you’re not giving it to kids, it’s not against the law.

Just be responsible with yourself and others.

Go suck on a hard candy and relax.

*In my area. Your area may be completely different. Be smart about it, obey your local laws.

Window shopping around on Amazon again. There were some really great Black Friday sales that I regretted not being able to take advantage of, though we did pick up a couple of the Fire 7’s to give as gifts, so that was pretty cool.

The bad thing about shopping for clothes online is the question “Size as expected?” Which sometimes makes me want to scream.

When all I want to do is buy a pair of pants, surprise, surprise, I kind of want to be able to fit those pants over my ass. That, or I don’t want them constantly falling down like I’m wearing clothes stolen off a giant. Either way, the trick merchants play on consumers with their ever sliding scale of sizes is ridiculous.

I want clothes that fit. Barring that, I prefer clothes that are a little over large rather than skin tight. I prefer fabrics that breathe, and I prefer that they don’t choke me out when they do it.

It sucks to find a shirt that I really like, then when I look at the chest measurements on the sizing chart I have to jump up to a Large or an X-Large, only to have a shirt arrive that fits across the chest and flaps around everywhere else. Or to buy a shirt in a Large or X-Large that I really like the looks of, only to try and put it on and find out that it squishes me across the chest and sticks to my skin like spandex. Or to order in Medium or Small and receive something that contains enough material to be used as a tent. Seriously, wtf?

So while I find plenty of joy in window shopping for clothes, most times I don’t buy anything at all. And that’s sad. Because if it were up to me, I’d never have to step into a store’s changing room ever again. I’d just get a bodyscan done and pick through a bunch of pre-sorted clothing all in my size and general style.

Where is the future of fashion? We’re waiting for you.