Some Words

I don't really have anything to say. My life is pretty boring at the time, not to me perhaps, but to an onlooker, an observer who is not me. This phenomenon is similar, but not identical, to how a particle behaves differently when observed than when not observed. It is similar, but not identical, to how a puzzle is unsolvable when one does not have all the pieces. It is nearly, but not quite, the opposite of love at first sight, where you love someone you don't understand.

Hence, I have nothing to say. Yet I write.
I write because I am bored, because I feel like it, because it makes sense. To me. This is what one normally uses a diary for, but I own no diary, so I will use my blog, and I will write things in it. Not saying things does not mean one has nothing to write. This is true.

The opposite of loving someone for who they are is despising someone for who they are not. The opposite of feeling comfort because your friends understand you is not being understood because you are uncomfortable. The opposite of light is light, at a different wavelength. The opposite of human is human, at a different wavelength. The opposite of love is desire, which is similar, but not identical, to how altruism is the opposite of egoism, but also similar to how up is the opposite of down, as one would be meaningless without the other.

The opposite of me is nobody. The opposite of you is loneliness. The opposite of lucid dreaming is muddled wakefulness. The opposite of enlightenment is ignorance. The opposite of opposite is the same thing as a synonym. The heart is an organ. Truth is relative. Beauty is absolute.

Trolls are ugly.
Planets are big.
Metal is hard.
Angels exist.

When one thing changes, another thing must also change. When a thing is stable, another thing must also be stable. Both these statements are infinitely recursive. Therefore, all things are either stable, or all things change. Therefore, Achilles slipped and hit his head, and forgot who he was. He has not remembered his name since, and he does not remember why he's running, but he's running and running but never catching up with the turtle, because all things are either stable, or all things change. The name of the game is forgotten. The game of the name is the search for God, because it is a game where we seek to name something "God". The night is not on fire. The fire is not a knight. The knight is not a maiden, and the maiden is not a whore. The whore is not a horse, and the horse is not a cow, which in turn, is not a mouse. The mouse is nowhere to be found.

I am running out of words now.
Goodnight.

It's Night

It is night, and I'm making a second blog entry. I'm sitting on a pointless chat room and talking to some guy I just met across half the world about how he has trouble getting dates.

Why am I doing this instead of packing my stuff? I should really get moving to Uppsala tomorrow.

I work in mysterious ways.

Sorry if I'm one day late to Uppsala, everyone. I was busy talking to some dude across half the world. He studies history. That's cool, I guess.

The Rise and Fall of Creativity

So, within the past few days, I have spoken quite a bit with Sara, David, Love, Da-Ryun, and Björn - some encounters one-on-one, some in great groups.

The time between these encounters, I have been writing. And I have discovered how much interaction fuels the fire of my creativity. It's peculiar, really, since the things discussed are quite unrelated - it just seems like being with people in ways that I like makes my brain want to do completely unrelated, very creative, and a bit useless, things. Which, to me, is a great thing.

It's not like I write a whole lot, really - my text is rather sparse - but I'm satisfied with what I've got so far, and I have a few more ideas that can be squeezed out of my head. This is all good, because it distracts me from the turbulent times up ahead - school starting, moving, cleaning apartments, et cetera, et cetera. The one problem I see is that once those turbulent times actually start, they might drown out my creative phase. Which would suck, in my opinion.

Not that I think people care a lot, but I will summarize what I've written and planned in this week below, for me to read and look proud at.

The first chapter for a Dragon-Blooded game, called The Fifth Virtue. In the first chapter, we discover just how cruel Lady Mnemon can be, and meet with Prince Saigoru, a major hottie. We also meet a ready-made character for Madde; Madra Sil Kalyna, a wild and free duchess.

The continuation of the Denandsor adventures of Cherubael & Kali, involving a bucketload of danger with a sprinkle of essential puzzle. In this episode, the heroes must face their fears, but if they succeed their rewards will be great - and perhaps, a bit surprising... Yet, the consequences of failure are far worse than the heroes would imagine.

Very haphazard and random notes (not yet finished) planning the future of New York, as shepherded by Jack Hudson and Karen Lennox. This time, a serial killer is on the loose and Robin is in deep trouble - despite her powerful magics. Jack meets an old friend, and Karen finds herself in unfamiliar territory.

The fourth (I think) chapter of the Chronicles of the Bronze Falcon, in which we meet the Drug Khans of the East, including an unexpected guest, and perhaps have time to discover a hidden ninja clan, this one aspected towards Water. Also, we get to follow the education of Er, as he finds himself a new sifu...

Extremely sketchy notes for the Final Showdown in Berlin, where Gabriel reveals a secret, Killian is forced to negotiate, and Lucien... well, we'll see what he does, won't we?

I think that's pretty creative for what's been done in the mere span of a week. And, as mentioned above, the week has been filled with pleasant discussion and, to some extent, cuddling as well - so I've been time-effective here, if I may say so myself.

Now only to handle the packing, and soon I'll have to be efficient for real-life reason. Maaan, why can't that be as fun?

The End of Summer Draws Nigh

I find that the end of summer draws nigh. It's funny.
It seems like it's been forever since the term ended, and now there's not much familiar to return to - the Uppsala I'll be going to is a completely different place than the one I lived in last year. I'll be living in a different place with different people, I'll be doing different things - Sydow and Sebbe will be in Kramfors - I have far less demands on me, in one way, and far more, in another.

It's funny how unpredictable life can be.