All Too Human
All Too Human
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Rambles, Rants, and Musings

Oh hey today was important.

4/19/2022

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Joined my first twitter community and also I found a new tag on twitter about plurality!

Can't explore things properly tonight (or rather, I explored them entirely tonight but I can't 'put this into writing' tonight where I share what I read elsewhere), but it big!

I'm a little disappointed that for a life event this huge, my blog is quite small, but just take my word for it.

​As much as it may not be making an impressive blog, this was a big day.
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Okay, today's just bloggers' block.

4/18/2022

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I just can't think of what to blog about. Games? Having done taxes? Game ideas? Story ideas? I just. I legit can't think of what I want to blog about, I can't focus on something for long enough to form a bloggable thought. Like, I will be thinking of things, and then I will think of things that are related to that which allow me to internally write it, but externally I just can't get those thoughts to flow into my words that I am writing.

These words that I am writing flow naturally. What I am writing now is second nature. It's fluid. It's natural. It's pouring out of my mind onto my keyboard. Basically raw thoughts, raw emotion, just written down as it comes out. What's the term, something about fluid thought? State of thought? There's a term that I should have memorized because it was popular in mafia games circa like 8 or so years ago OH got it, "stream of consciousness".

Right now I have stream of consciousness posting cranked up to 11. There's no preplanning of my thoughts. There's just freeform, where it's going from whatever feels natural to type that comes straight from my brain, almost no filter involved.

I do have more thoughts that are blog-worthy running through my mind, but they're not at the forefront. That might be a plurality thing at play where my body is more or less acting on its own, with the body writing the words and the minds that are my facets thinking more specific things with the core just being the things that take no effort to make and think, just flow, but like...

...I dunno, it's just that. Well. I prefer to have blogs that are somewhat preplanned, structured, where I know what I want to talk about, what will be involved, how I will say it, what it will be about, subjects covered, the indepth nature of them, etc. I don't really like to go with the flow like this one is but like.

Hey, at least it's better than not making one I guess?

In fact, sad and pathetic as it may be, this is probably the longest most indepth most "interesting" blog post I've made in weeks, maybe even months, because I've kept it going, even though I kinda loathe this sort of ramble. Like, most of my rambles have structure to them. A madness to the method, sure, but with method in the madness. They were chaotic, they were ADHD manifested with my inability to focus and having distracting thoughts come up.

But most of the time, even those rambles have structure between one thought and the other. I might not have the ideas tied together well, but I have the ideas neatly separated and the ideas are each coherent on their own even if they have no segue, no transition, involved from one to the other.

Yet this one just has none of that. It's just one continuous "mess", and while I realize this may be the most interesting blog I've written in who knows how long to some people, with some people loving this style for the freestyleness of it where you're getting my beginning-to-show-tiredness-but-not-yet-utterly-exhausted freeflow of word vomit, but like.

While I get that there's a market for that sort of content.
While I get that there is an audience who enjoys that sort of spew.

I, personally, as the one making it: hate it. It's not my thing. It's hard to follow, it's hard to read back later. Like, while I may have forgotten to do this in a long time, in theory I have plans to reread the entirety of my blog for tag-checking in order to get the tags there that need to be there.

Structured blogs like the ones I prefer are easy to sort through en masse, since sifting through them is as simple as looking at one topic then looking at the next.

This blog?

Will I ever be able to read this blog again?

Well in theory yes, maybe, but in practice, probably not, no.

And if I can't read my own words after I've written them, that's an issue, so that's why I hate what I am doing right now for a blog thanks to the blogger's block, in spite of knowing that it is interesting to some people. It's just not "my thing", but ah well. A blog's a blog, I guess.
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Sorry, ran out of time to make a blog today.

4/17/2022

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I mean, even if I had the time, I probably wouldn't make a blog due to blogger's block, but I'd at least have had the chance to make one if I had thought of it earlier and put time into it earlier.

Today I just was a bit too busy.

That said, with some luck, I might be exiting my mental funk.

Fingers crossed tho; it's always on a knife's edge where I could slip back in on a moment's notice.

Mother Ranger coming in clutch.

(Speaking of which, that term will confuse blog readers unaware of my plurality updates because I big dum dum who hasn't actually blogged about that huge breakthrough in my plurality. Whooops.)
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Oops no blog.

4/5/2022

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I legit just forgot to make one until now for the last couple of days.

A lot of stuff has been happening. Breakthroughs in my plurality, realizations about my spirituality, and also game grinding. But unfortunately, I am trying to plan things smartly so I need to go to bed now in order to get to where I intend to be.
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Well I made a bit of a breakthrough.

3/31/2022

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It's a pipe dream because first it would require me to actually make Phyrra and Cyrus, but I actually managed to make a proper sequel to Phyrra and Cyrus!

Now, there was already a spinoff, Smoke Ling, son of a Gunther, covering the son of Gunther King Slayer, the second villain in Phyrra and Cyrus, appearing in the second season, the enemy of Bard. It covered things set about 20 years after the end of the main story of Phyrra and Cyrus (technically 80 years before the epilogue since the epilogue is 100 years from the ending of the main story).

This was a proper sequel, set hundreds of years into the future.

I have the worldbuilding set up.

I have the main character(s). This story would, instead of being an allegory for being trans, would be an allegory for plurality.

Just need to iron out the finer detail points.

​Speaking of plurality though, I owe a ramble on that, too.
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Quick Wednesday blog

3/16/2022

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As a reminder, I should be going straight to bed from Wednesday night to Thursday morning due to closing shift tonight into opening shift tomorrow. So no blog tonight, if I'm being responsible.

(Spoiler alert: 'if' is there because I am not responsible...)

I wanna quickly mention that I did have a major breakthrough in my plurality yesterday and that's one of the things I should be blogging about, but I used up all of my energy yesterday on just sifting through the breakthrough so I don't have the ability to record it here yet.
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Morning blog, because this needs to be written down now.

2/1/2022

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Well, 'morning', as in, 1 pm instead of 1 am; written post-bed-and-pre-work rather than post-work-and-pre-bed.

I have some form of anxiety disorder. This is a fairly new discovery for me, but it badly impacts me.
​"What if the snow will knock out power while you're writing this blog."
"What if wearing your false-breasts to bed suppresses the growth of your natural ones?"
"What if having food/drink reduces the effectiveness of the sublingual intake?"
"What if brushing your teeth will reduce the effectiveness of the sublingual intake?"
"What if the sublingual intake is being done wrong?"

You get the idea.

These can be somewhat crippling as the more plausible they are, the more respect I have to pay towards the possibility, in spite of how it's probably wrong.

​However, the most terrifying of possibilities, and what made me start writing this blog (in spite of how it'll make me late to leave), was what I thought when taking my pre-leave-for-work nap.

Some background: I am plural.
I am a minor form of plural, admittedly.

It's called a median system.

Now, back in the day I discovered that I was one, that link didn't exist. I developed my own terminology, which you can even find on this blog! What the wiki link calls 'facets', I call "mes". Ranger is a me, mastina is a me. There are many mes, with those two (with the work-oriented one as a third) being the most dominant. Or as the wiki would say, Ranger is a facet of Bree, mastina is a facet of Bree, there's many facets but they're all a part of me, a part of Bree.

​Each with their own voice, their own personality, their own memories, their own thoughts, emotions, etc. Sharing most with the core, but still having some separation.

​Separate from my median system, however, there's another part of me that I haven't explored.

Since childhood, I have had another voice in my brain. This voice has never been a part of me. This voice has never been a part of Bree. He (and yes, he's a he, when all of me is a she, Bree is 100% she/her) has always been there as a friend. And I can actually see him if I try. He was the imaginary friend of a childhood, who never went away even into adulthood. He's been with me the entire time.

There, but not a part of the core. Existing separately from it. But he's never taken control of my body. He's not a core part of Bree. He's not part of the median system. But he's also not someone who can take control of the body (or if he could, he never has).

But he's not been alone.

Since my teenage years (about since puberty), he's been joined by another guy working identically to the way he does. This guy, David, basically has constantly been emphasizing all the various ways I'm worthless, I'm trash, etc. for my entire time with him. Always highlighting the negative. Always putting me down. Always pointing out the failures. Every thing I do wrong, he would highlight as proof of why I am a garbage human being. Every time I felt guilt, he magnified it.

And more than that, David seemed to elevate my darker impulses. Every time he was most active, everything negative in me was amplified. So I became terrified. In hindsight, my anxiety disorder at work, but also a somewhat realistic concern. Knowing about DID, and knowing that David was real, talking to me, in my head, and separate from me, I had the worrying thought of,
"What if David took control of the body?"
What disaster would await me if that happened?

So I was terrified of him. My fear of him was one of the reasons I worked so hard to gain control of my life, as to make sure he could never manifest physically. I remain unsure if he could have. But I was always afraid of the possibility. I knew I could never get rid of David. I could not drive him away. He was in my brain, there to stay, no matter what. He was separate from my core, but still existing there.

Alongside the other guy, my lifelong friend. (Who, by the way, is still there. He's actually encouraging me passively a little bit even right now, and we may get a chance to chat while driving, we'll have to see.)

​I want to delve into this in a more indepth blog, but for now skipping most of the details, just know that David has been a part of my brain for a long long time, but not a part of me, Bree, ever. He was always separate. He would amplify my darkest aspects, and always put me down.

But recently, he's been absent.

I had various theories.

"Maybe I didn't need him anymore."
"Maybe I got my life into a place where he had nothing to say."
"Maybe the reason I don't hear David putting me down anymore is that I do it myself!"

That last one's important. Because, yes. There is a part of me. My core. A female me, or as the plural wiki would put it, a female facet of me, of Bree. Who constantly does exactly what David did. Putting me down, highlighting every single failure. Unlike David, who I could tell was separate and male, this is part of me, part of the core, and is female.

And then, today, I had a fairly sociopathic/psychopathic thought. The thought deeply disturbed me, because it meant that some facet of me had that level of sociopathy/psychopathy in them, and with them as part of my core, that meant that somewhere in me was that darker deeper impulse that I was always terrified would come to light when David was at his strongest, the fear of him manifesting.

That sociopathic thought is important.

Because enter my anxiety. Linking important thought A, with important thought B:

"What if David isn't around anymore because he merged with the core and became the facet that you heard think that thought?"

And that is the most terrifying thing of all, because it is frighteningly plausible and there's literally nothing that I can do about it. Thus, my morning blog.
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Okay so I am both badly an addict and depressed.

11/27/2021

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So I got a win in tft, and decided to stop playing for the night. (In hindsight, I could've kept going in hyper-roll or the team game mode, but oh well.) And went, "this is a good place to stop".

Then I looked at the clock.

And realized.

"I have to stay up for another hour and a half???" (It's since been reduced to one hour or so.)

Granted, I could go to bed earlier. But I just, well, last night, I got allllll the sleep I wanted. And today, I did have a decent amount of coffee. Plus, this week is a bit abnormal.

Normally, I work at 7:45 am on Sundays, but this week I start at 11 am, meaning that instead of a like 9-11 pm bedtime it's gonna be a 12-3 am bedtime.

I could go to bed earlier and get a little extra sleep.
It's just that I don't feel like it, I don't need it, going to sleep early would genuinely be purely because I had nothing better to do.

Going to bed basically feels like a waste of time, I guess.

Actually, that makes a lot of sense.

The very same part of my brain that is doing the scheduling for me is the part telling me not to waste my time with going to bed prematurely.

See, the thing is, for the longest time, I've had multiple mes. The two most dominant, I identify as 'Ranger' and 'mastina', but there's always been more than just the two even if there are two main-mes. (As a reminder, I have a minor form of plurality called a median system.)

But ever since I have started work, I've become aware that there is a third main me, a third very prominent one that is dominant at work but present at other times, too. This is the me that my drive to do better comes from. Every time I say "I have to do better", it's her speaking. She deals with staying on top of scheduling, she is very focused, work-efficient, etc.

And she's the one who basically said that going to bed before 3 is a waste of time. And I trust her, because she's the most reliable one, she almost never makes mistakes, she's very very good at just scheduling things and knowing what needs to be done.

So like.

When that me dictates that I need to be awake for almost another full hour as of me writing this blog.

I don't want to go against her recommendation and go to bed too soon. It could, in spite of being more sleep technically, actually throw me off worse tomorrow. At least possibly. So like, I trust the 3 am bed time scheduled for me.

The thing is.

Staying up until then is hard​. 

Because I am badly depressed.

I wrapped up on TFT, not feeling like playing another game there.

And then, I found myself in a situation.

"...I have nothing to do."

Which is obviously not true. A blog's something to do as an example, but like.

I literally have a list of activities which details things that I can do, which I am doing none of.

It's just that I feel like doing nothing.

One of the reasons I want to go to sleep is basically boredom.

I don't feel like building things in minecraft.
I don't feel like playing Stardew Valley.
I'm not feeling Chrono Trigger or FFVII or Epic Battle Fantasy 5 tonight.
I closed the League client so am disinclined to play any of the games within there.

​I don't feel like writing or doing art.

I might might might do Civ 3 work, but even there, I'm largely apathetic.

I genuinely just don't feel like anything but sleep.

So.

​Depression it is!
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Well I'm not good at the blogging thing.

10/4/2021

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I did have a desire yesterday to write a blog about my plurality (the nature of my median system), but I ended up getting too tired to write it. And as for tonight...well. I got nuthin'. I don't have the mindset to write about the thing I was going to yesterday, and for things for today...coming up empty. Still not in the mindset to write the misophonia blog, either. I already blogged about the progress on Civ 3.

And I'm pretty sure my last blog mentioned Epic Battle Fantasy stuff? I guess just in case I can cover it again. Basically, I spent an entire night just listening to Epic Battle Fantasy music, because I just...wanted to, the nostalgia was strong. It was on a whim that I went to spend the night listening to EPF 3 music (particularly the normal battle music and boss music from that game).

Since then, I've actually made good progress in the game. I beat a couple of bonus zones, and I even managed to beat one of the bosses I thought would be among the hardest in the game; the underground Neo Valkyrie fight where it regenerates health every turn, makes two bombs that can TPK every four turns, deals ridiculous damage, and has over five million HP.

It did take me multiple tries, mind you, and tweaking my strategy multiple times, but I ultimately pulled it off by giving my main party 100% bomb resistance (130% for NoLegs, the member with the weakest ability to heal), high wind resistance, immunity to most of the status effects, and lots and lots of haste (between Viking Monolith procs and casual haste procs which in some instances stack). From there, I used Temperance on Matt to boost his attack power to the max and spammed the earth spike, with NoLegs applying max curse and weakness and Natt healing, syphoning, and when free to attack, either applying weakness or applying tiredness from gaia blossom (which deals good damage, too).

It was very very close, since I ran out of SP on the bombs, Natt couldn't syphon both the spawned bombs, the bombs were one turn from exploding, and I was out of revives, low on health, with the bombs going off spelling out a TPK--but I did end up eventually pulling through, barely, to finish it off, on my last party member's last turn.

I'm basically, slowly, progressing through all the top half of the map. After that, I know there's a really really really nightmarish fight in the snow area of the bottom half, which I'll get after going through the river and doing a full cycle or two of the frozen area before steeling myself for the fight that isn't technically a boss fight but which is still nightmarishly difficult. (I don't even remember the enemy, probably either a Mammoth or a Monolith that's gargantuan.)

After that, we'll be getting to progressing the game with the fall area with the tomb and such, which will take us into new content for the game.

​I'm slowly progressing.
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Well, it's not as bad anymore.

6/4/2019

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Mind you, I chose that wording carefully because while I'm not as bad as I was yesterday, this is more a reversion to be what I was two days ago--that being, still depressed, just...not as painfully so. I am still down and can feel that I am quite down, I just am not as horrifically down as I was yesterday.

I'm not upbeat, I'm not energetic, I'm still fairly lethargic, I'm down, and I'm just not enthused by most things, but I'm at least at the point of feeling like I can live, whereas yesterday was actually kinda DANGEROUS levels of low.

Soyeah. Not gonna lie. I could be better. I could be much, much better. I would love to be absolutely entirely better than where I am at right now. I even kinda have an inkling of a desire to be inspired, a desire to work on something, a desire to be passionate, so maybe I'm on the rebound.

...But I know I'm not recovered yet, because while there's that small portion of desire, it's not actually focused on anything. If my lack of focus were because of too many things, I'd know I'd be recovered, but my lack of focus here is because there is no thing. No single thing, and no more-than-one thing. Just nothing. 

I have the desire to be inspired, which is good, but nothing actually inspiring me, which is not as good. In actuality, I feel like I can kinda sorta express where I'm at with this, kinda sorta. I feel like what I want to do isn't so much as work on anything, so much as I want to talk about something. On here. On my blog.

I want my blog to basically, were it to actually have readership (which I know it doesn't, stats be damned, because I know there's no way that I'm getting at-lowest 30 readers a day, at-highest 110 readers a day; I'd expect maybe one tenth of those to be real, 3-11 people per day).

If people were actually reading what I was writing. For it to actually be something that was inspiring to them. That was uplifting to them. I need not write uplifting content myself. My blog entry could be entirely a long entry about why my day sucked, but what I kinda want is that if people actually read my blog, for them to actually have some thorough enjoyment, entertainment, enrichment, enlightenment, from it.

You know.

Basically.

It's the same dream I had when I first became a writer which kept me being a writer for all those years that I was a writer.
It's the same dream I have for being a webcomic artist, and for sharing Phyrra and Cyrus with the rest of the world, even after having had the writer within me be basically dead for novelwriting.

It's to have others feel the same way about what I wrote, that I feel about things that I read. You know how I go on about all these things that enriched my life? How Dan Shive was a massive inspiration to me once I read his work. How Grrr Power was a massive inspiration to me once I read the comic (okay admittedly you never got the full blog entry there but you did get a part of it).

How Worm was an incredibly uplifting, inspirational, piece of work in spite of it being incredibly dark, just because it represented how you can do so much and make a work so incredible online using just sheer willpower combined with clever planning basically, determination combined with competent storyboarding, to lay out a guideline to a plot.

And so on and so forth.

That's been going on since I was a kid. When I was young, I saw that Eragon was published by a person when they were a teenager--I knew that the Inheritance Cycle was, objectively speaking, not a too terribly well-written book series filled to the brim with flaws, but the inspiring fact about it wasn't the quality of the books (which I felt were entertaining in spite of being flawed; think basically "like most mainstream films these days" which are absolute junk in so many ways but can still be mindless entertainment that you get creative ideas from).

It was that a teenager managed to write, then successfully sell, the book he wrote. The books sold, and they sold well. That they sold so well, no matter what you think of the quality of the material, means that the author did something right. Same principle applies to the Twilight Saga. I enjoyed reading it, and the books sold well. I objectively know about all of the flaws in the series which have been pointed out to the point of being old, boring news.

Everyone knows the books are objectively junk--but they were still enthralling enough to be an enjoyable read in spite of knowing all the flaws therein, and the books still sold incredibly well. You can say whatever you'd like about the author; you can say whatever you'd like about the quality of the books. But the fact that they sold incredibly well, combined with my subjective experience of enjoying them in spite of knowing that they were flawed. Means that you have to acknowledge that objectively, she did something right.

She was able to sell something that was flawed, and make people buy it in spite of its flaws, and even enjoy it knowing all of what is flawed within. For all the flaws of the writing you can find, the fact that it had that effect, again, means that there was something being done right.

And that's the effect which has always been inspiring to me as a writer. Knowing that in spite of the flaws of the writing, it is still possible to make a product that people genuinely enjoy, and can derive entertainment from. More than that! That they can be enriched in their lives from having read a work in spite of the flaws of that work. That they can be inspired, that they can be uplifted, to the point where they dream big and can maybe do something that they otherwise wouldn't.

In other words.

My dream of dreams is basically. To be able to have it so that I do for others, what others have done for me, throughout my life. Picked me up, made me stronger, made me more enriched, made me more inspired, made me the dreamer that I am. I want to make other people dream. I want to make others be picked up by what I do.

And right now the only way I have of doing that is through the one thing that I've never consistently failed at for the longest time of anything I've worked on. Which is my blog. Yes, I occasionally for whatever reason miss an entry in spite of the aim to be a daily blog. But the simple fact of the matter is. By and large. For four and a half years.

I've kept this going.

Do you know what else I've kept going for four and a half years?

Pretty much nothing.
Nothing that's me, at least.
Sure, job; tae kwon do; dancing; counseling. Stuff like that, been doing longer than four and a half years. But it doesn't really count as being me. Those things are a part of me, but they aren't a part of my expression of me.

Every dance I try to write, I don't finish.
Every time I take up songwriting I never go anywhere with it.
Every time I try to compose music, I keep it in my head and do nothing with it.
Every time I write a story, I never end up following through with it and publishing it.
Every time I start a webcomic, I end up abandoning it, even after having taken precautions against abandoning it.
Every time I work on a project, I end up abandoning it, even after knowing about my bipolar disorder and taking steps to counteract it.

I have listened to uplifting speech after uplifting speech. People who succeed say the same cliched lines about why they succeeded, not because it's a cliche, but because the cliche is cliche because it is true to reality and they all say the same thing because the same thing held true for each of them. I forget the exact words, but something along the lines of willpower being temporary, of how the drive to work is temporary, but you need to keep doing it, keep efforting at it, even when you don't feel like it, force your way through it, keep at it, and if you really want it, you will put in the work necessary to get it done.

More or less, something along those lines at least. And I have tried to implement that advice before--tried...and failed. I have, consistently, failed. In spite of knowing about the autistic concept of inertia. I know that once I get rolling I can keep things rolling but that when they screech to a halt they stay stopped with a near-impossibility to get started again. I take measures to prevent the stop, and even if the stop happens, I tell myself that I have the strength of will to push the stopped train, inch by inch, until it's moving again.

...But I never actually do and all the planning in the world falls apart because I, frankly, just suck. I dream. I dream the dream, I never bring the dream to reality. For all of those things. For all of those ideas. They all fail. I've gone into this before, about how while I dream of succeeding, I'm actually happier in my failures, and hypothesize that's why so many people who don't make it big can still be happy and why quite a number of people who do make it big are often not-so-happy in spite of having made it big.

Who knows, maybe that is true. I honestly don't know anymore. I am a contradictory being. Old enough where I'm expected to more or less be solidifying myself, young enough where I can't actually do so and am constantly, consistently, second-guessing every single thing about everything. All my beliefs, all my thoughts on myself, how I view things, everything, I doubt it all and I constantly revise everything including my outlook on life.

But I'm going on a bit of a tangent, there. My point is...I generally am just. A failure in general. Yet this blog is pretty much the one thing which I don't think I have failed at.

I've had plenty of blog entries where I didn't succeed.

I like to pour my heart and soul out every single entry, so when I am forced to blog-dodge for whatever reason. Forced to make an empty, substanceless entry. Forced to make nothing. Or whenever I forget to make an entry. When anything like that happens. Obviously, it's not a success.

But by and large. Four and a half years. Four and a half years, I've been doing this blog. And by and large it actually has succeeded. It hasn't succeeded as often as I'd like. It certainly hasn't succeeded in all the ways I'd hope it'd succeed, in part because those hopes are by and large contradictory. I've wanted different things out of my blog at different times, so of course my blog can't be all of them.

But it's still been most of them, most of the time. Even this entry. It started out as any other would, and yet now has been built up to be something actually unique. And there's the charm, I feel, in my blog writing. There's where I derive some hope from.

I want what I write on this blog. No matter the subject. About me. About me talking about my latest passion project. About whatever caught my fancy. About something I read, something I watched. About whatever I have on my mind when I make a blog entry. I want what I write here to be something that readers can get some enjoyment from.

I want as many people as is possible to read my blog, so that as many people as is possible can find something, anything, in my blog, which made it worth the read. I want a blog which is worth the time and effort to read. After all.

It's four and a half years.
And counting.
Of content.
Filled with entries that are this length and longer.
Like, what's my longest entry? I wouldn't even know, but it'd have to be something probably ten times as long as this already-lengthy blog.

I know that even I can't read all four and a half years of my blog.
I can't even really stand to skim too much of it. I just don't have the time/focus to review it all, even though I know that I'd actually be better off if I did review what I wrote/said from time to time so that things that I said that I didn't want to be forgotten, aren't actually forgotten.

And if I.
The girl who wrote the blog in the first place.
If I.
The person who made the entries in the first place.
If I.
The person who can read 800 pages in a single night and then some.
If I.
The person who could read almost all of Worm in the span of weeks, and then finish the rest in the span of days. When that work is over a million words long by some significant amount.

If I can't do it.

Then I doubt anyone else could. And even if they could, I doubt that they would.

Sure, some people like to stay fairly current on my blog; they read it every day, or if not, they binge-read it every few days, every week, every month, you name it. Some people do that, and can do that. That's not too hard to do; keep current on something updating every day.

But starting from the beginning? Yeahhhhhhh nobody can start from the beginning, read every entry, and get caught up, while having read it all well and truly having read it all. It's impossible.

But believe it or not.

I'm actually kinda proud of that.

It's enough content that it's impossible to keep track of it all.

Instantly that means it's worth more than most other things.

I know that my few readers, such as they are, have changed over the years.
I know that they come and they go.
That I legitimately do have a small readership who stay...but who said readers are that stay, tend to change.
But right now the closest I have to inspiration to do something is...well. Just this. My blog.

At this point, I think that the closest thing I'll ever have to a lasting legacy is in fact this blog.
Not any story I'll write; I won't probably ever publish even though that's been a lifelong dream of mine.
Not any webcomic I'll start; I won't probably ever finish any of them no matter my desire.
Not any ambitious project, e.g. a video game, Phyrra and Cyrus; you actually think that I, me, Bree, could actually have the conviction necessary to see it through, by myself? Nooooooooot a chance in hell. Maybe, maybe, MAYBE with the right support network I could see them through, but that would require that support network be perfectly placed and able to push me in that direction actively and consistently and continuously and to keep me from slacking.

Realistically speaking.
This blog is it.
It's all I'll ever actually have as lasting proof.
Because after I'm gone.
You'll have random scattered notes everywhere about random scattered ideas I had. In bad handwriting, with most of the papers having long-since deteriorated due to whatever various poor conditions they were stored in having withered away the penciling/ink to the point where the already-basically-unreadable writing is turned utterly-illegible. 

The ideas die with me.
And because I will probably never actually get those ideas to reality.
They will never be made. They will always just...disappear, when I (hopefully very very very far away) eventually die.
Which, mind you, I know is morbid and is obviously something which isn't something that many people (including myself) like to dwell on, but is a hard fact of life. Much as we like to dream of being immortal and plan on living forever, everyone including myself dies eventually.

Since I don't want to really ponder on it much further, not going to say more on that than that, but what I'm focusing on is how this blog is basically...well. Assuming it isn't taken down at some point. (Which would really really suck and screw you weebly if you ever do that to me.) It's the proof I was alive. It's the proof I was a person. It's the proof I existed. It's the best insight into my personality, my being, my existence, that will remain. It's the record of who I was as a person.

It's not a perfect record, of course. But it's a lasting insight into who I am--and it is something which is there available for everyone to see. It is available to all, which is one of the things which I've always wanted. I've wanted to share myself with the world. I've wanted to share my being with others, open up and just. Tell them about myself. Tell them anything and everything about me.

Basically lay out my life's story, except for the things about my life that I want to keep private to only me or those that I choose to share those things with. (E.g. things that I tell my girlfriend and only my girlfriend are...pretty self-evidently, going to have a level of intimacy to them.)

This blog is who I am. It's not all of who I am, but it is who I am, as is recorded in time, in history. And I know nobody reads it, in spite of my dreams otherwise. But that doesn't stop the dreams from existing. Of this blog. Of my writing here. Being the thing that I get from others all the time.

Of being something that enriches the lives of those who read it. Of being something worthwhile to have read. Of being something that people actually enjoyed experiencing. Of sharing my visions with others, and those visions having inspired those others, in spite of them having been mine.

I guess that typing this out has made me feel even better than I was before, a little. Because that spark is there. Mind you. Beyond continuing to blog every day, not gonna do anything with it. I could, theoretically, have ways to spread my blog to others. When I comment on webcomics that allow you to link to a site, I deliberately avoid linking to any site including this blog, even though I could easily do so without consequence and have said link theoretically lead to potentially more exposure. Same for comments on Worm; I left a few and had that option, but chose not to take it.

I could theoretically explore post options more; there's options for search engine optimization. There are sites which I have profiles on that don't link to my blog even though both ComicFury and the site I play mafia on contain the blog link; on the ones that don't, I could add it in.

By having an increased presence on other sites, with a link to the blog, I would in theory be able to get an increased number of readers. Heck, all of those are free but if I really wanted to, there are paid options to expand what I can do using weebly's software (paid options which can go to hell as far as I'm concerned; I'm never paying so much as a cent to weebly and if they try to force me to, they can kiss my presence goodbye; I'd find somewhere else to blog).

That I can list these options but am not going to do them tells you what I mean--I could do more with my blog to increase its exposure, and with luck, increase the odds of my dream coming true, of me succeeding in having it be what I dream of dreams it being, of it being uplifting, inspiring, and so on and so forth.

But beyond making entries like this.

I won't actually do that.

So the dream will remain just that, a dream.

​But it's a nice one to have, isn't it?
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    rangerbreenew

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