And it was completely accidental, too; I wasn't really trying to soul search, but when I felt it, I felt like I was onto something, particularly during one moment which felt oh so strongly, undeniably, true.

I'm not quite sure where to begin; this revelation took me a while to unpack, but.
Basically.
You know how I identify as a median, right?
How there are many mes, and all of them are Bree?
And how while there are many of us, the primary two are identified as Ranger and mastina?

Well.

I think there's actually a third, and she's more dominant than both combined, especially right now. The reason I haven't noticed, however, is that she's really good at disguising herself as either of us...and more than that. She...on her own, by herself. Doesn't really have anything to think.

She's a bit of an empty shell, an empty husk. There's nothing in her, by herself. Yet she has this amazing ability. Ranger has the capability to talk to characters and get to know them. I've always known, however, that I have another ability, and this third me I believe is the source of it: when I actually become the characters.

And...this has been happening a lot as of recently. A LOT, a lot. Far, far, far, far, far, FAR more often than normal. The most it's ever happened since I was a young child, I believe. Primarily, the two I am becoming are actually becoming Ruby and actually becoming Phyrra, but I can and do become others as well. In this mode, I can think what they do, I can feel what they do, I can almost feel their powers coursing through my veins, and everything about their world becomes a reality to me.

Yet also during those same times, I feel a little bit of a sense of emptiness--as if there is a nothingness, a void. Which I think becoming the character is an attempt to fill. That the me who becomes these characters is literally attempting to become someone else...because there's nothing in her, nothing to her, nothing about her.

I actually have a hypothesis, that this third me who I only caught the faintest glimpse of is actually the first me, the first Bree, the original me. The me who is responsible for me having a core that all Brees derive from. The me who has the fullest control, the me who connects everything together in spite of not actually thinking for herself, instead simply summoning the thoughts of others to think for her.

This sounds like normal me delusions, yes. But what made me convinced that this might have merit was a moment.
There was a moment where I was able to release thought, control, and emotion to her. It was her, alone, in her thoughts, for just a split moment.

At first, there was literally nothing. No thought. No emotion. No nothing. But immediately following that. I felt the strongest fear I have ever felt in my life. It lasted for a split second. Only that long, because immediately following it I was promptly and immediately driving again, as if she was hiding herself intentionally from facing whatever thought could create that emotion.

But that was the most intense feeling I have ever experienced. A deep, primordial fear of something, mixed with a taint of sadness. My theory more or less developed that she was me before there were many mes, but was empty, isolated, alone. She was a vivid, perfect actor of sorts, capable of playing a part to reflect the circumstances and yet being nothing on her own. These parts she played were compartmentalized and from those raised the various mes. All originally her, but extensions of her that eventually came alive, more or less.

Of course, that's just the theory.
I think it's a good one, because it more or less matches my memory of my entire life, matches with my numerous mental conditions (autism plus bipolar disorder namely), matches what feels like it makes sense, and matches my recent experiences. (I've been feeling a bit detached from reality but more than that...I've been feeling a bit detached from myself in that I've been looking at me and just...not feeling like there's anything there.)

But while almost everything I've said is just conjecture, while almost everything I've said is purely speculation. I can still access the memory of that feeling, that sensation, of that deep, fundamental fear, with the tint of sadness attached. That was real. That was something overwhelmingly strong, even painful, to feel, and I know as much as I know I am Bree that it was a real feeling, one which originated from some very deep-rooted source.

If I had to self-analyze, what I'd get from it is that my guess is that I'm afraid of being nothing. I don't mean amounting to nothing. I don't mean dieing. (As in, suddenly going from existing to not existing.) Afraid of existing, but there being nothing in that existence at all. Which seems like a fairly reasonable fear to me.

I also don't think this is something I'll be exploring too much. I think stumbling upon this discovery was very, very healthy for my wellbeing, as a more or less, "Oh, so that's what's happening", in that it can help me better understand what I'm going through so I can manage my life a little more effectively. Yet I also feel that exploring much further would be detrimental since I get a kind of sense where, "leave the system undisturbed since I am happy with it", more or less.

In short, for much the same reason that I don't particularly care if people call me crazy or delusional, I don't particularly care to look further; I'm happy with this as it is, and that's all that really matters.

And yet in spite of it continuing to do so and even containing details I don't have written down (and thus, every time I don't write about them I risk forgetting), I continue to procrastinate about talking about them. Once more, I have a little bit of extra about them, albeit extra which requires me to blog about something which I was meant to blog about days ago.

And yet, once more, I am not going to be blogging about it, because instead I am going to be blogging about something else entirely. (Okay so there's a chance that I will, but that chance is so slim it is essentially none.)

Specifically, I have just...been wanting to talk about my identity recently. There have been a fair number of times where recently, I've either been just questioning who exactly I am (knowing that I am Bree, but otherwise being lost), or have just wanted to let it all out to people, to vent randomly in ways I just don't think about to vent to someone without a prompt--yet nobody gives me the prompt, or if they do, they give it to me in a public place where I don't want to give the rant.

Yes, technically speaking, this blog is public. But it is JUST private enough, it is just personal enough, that I feel comfortable sharing this sort of thing on here. Basically. There have been a fair number of times recently where I just wished someone would, in the right environment, give me the right lead-in to allow me to talk to them about some of the stuff below. Yet the lead-in I'd need is so specific that it'll never actually materialize.

Believe it or not. This blog? Was started very largely to make exactly this kind of entry. At the time, it was mostly to deal with me being a closeted transwoman who is both autistic and has bipolar disorder, and for me to unload it all on someone in real life, especially at work given my many frustrations there. That was one of the main contributing factors to me starting this blog in the first place.

It's something people often forget now that nowadays most of my entries are either related to my creations (stories, art, song, etc.) or non-entries that are more or less "sorry, stuff happened, so no real entry today". But part of blogging is telling stories from my life, or even just telling about my life. And this in particular is the latter because I just need to do that, in a way which is more conductive to a blog than, say, unloading on my girlfriend. (I mean, I could, it's just that this is the sort of content which works better as a blog than a rant to them.)

I'll start by talking a bit about my identity--as a refresher, yes, I do identify as plural. Specifically, the type of plural I identify as is a median. The, "there are many of us, but we are all Bree" descriptor is mostly accurate. (Mostly, because within me are at least two entities that are almost individuals who aren't Bree, but more on that later.) I have a core, the core "Bree", from which all of mes exist.

We are all women, we share most of our memories, emotions, and thoughts, and those are in the core. But there are things outside the core--memories, emotions, and thoughts unique to the personality. There are many of us indeed, but the primary two have come to be known as Ranger and mastina. mastina is the me most dominant overall, with Ranger at a very close second, and at some points having this be vice-versa where Ranger was more dominant even though she currently is not.

This is something which is, in many ways, similar to us being a transwoman--we have always been this way, as far as I can remember, with the compartmentalized thoughts and the division within us, not to mention the imaginary friend who never went away (more on that later). Yet like being trans, this isn't something we have known about consciously, actively, until relatively speaking fairly recently.

Specifically, the first inkling I'd say of us really having any semblance of an idea that we were divided within would be somewhere around circa December 2015. And I was confused. I didn't understand--I still don't! I have no clue what I really am, to be honest. But with help, I've been able to get some degree of better understanding, becoming more informed and also having done some searching and exploration.

My knowledge is still young. My experience is still growing. But somewhere circa 2017 I began to get much better grounded in having a more solid idea of who I am. Beyond that, I've been playing around with trying to figure out the differences between my mes.

Today, one of the things I figured out was that there is actually a difference in the way we think, and that we have different functions as a result. I mean. I knew there was a difference in the way we think; I've felt that before, where the very fundamental way I thought of things abruptly and suddenly shifted. (The shift between the different mes isn't something I control; I can't flip a switch and go from Ranger to mastina, nor is it that I go to sleep as one and awake as another. It just happens, that I'm one, then I'm another. These shifts can even happen in terms of seconds, where for a split moment I am one and then snap back to being another.)

But today, I think I figured out the way the thoughts differ.

I call the different thinking patterns "Linear" versus "Geometric".
You may recognize this as being, more or less, something from my perspective on art. And that's because it is! Basically, I have noted in the past that there are two ways to go about making art--the linear approach is, as the name indicates, focused on lines. You create things by the flow of lines.

It has the advantage of being fluid and dynamic, with good flow and movement, so when drawing motion, it's a nice technique. It has a disadvantage, though, in that accuracy tend to be hit-or-miss. Proportions, anatomy, perspective, the like, are all things which are potentially thrown off.

A geometric approach, in the art setting, is more or less taking the shapes, and building up the figure using them. This has the advantage of being accurate, but the disadvantage that it tends to be more stiff and rigid, coming across as a bit more artificial.

There's more to both than that (which I'll get to in a sec), but...I realized today that those approaches aren't just for art. They apply to a general view on the world in general. I mean, I always visualize things in those two ways, but I thought of said visualizations as an extension of art rather than extending the concept. The concept, though, works beyond just art for me.

Linear thinking, I realized, is more Ranger's specialty. It is organic, it is fluid, flowing, with movement, where things go with the flow, where things just come naturally and make sense, yet are sometimes a little bit questionable in how precisely they work. However, it does seem to work regardless of the flaws, and the flaws are what makes it actually be a thing of beauty.

When it comes to stories, I realize that the me who converses to characters is always Ranger. It's never me as mastina talking to my characters. Always, when I am having an actual conversation with my characters, as their equal rather than their god/creator, it is Ranger who speaks. (Me as mastina, on the other hand, I am always the god/creator.)

In this way, Ranger actually gets to know the characters better than I do--and without her, I wouldn't have the signature characters I am known for making that are so authentic they feel like they're real. Because to her, they are real, because she talks to them. I don't, not as mastina anyway.

Ranger is also, then, the one responsible for most of the actual dialog in my stories. I as the writer might give the general nature of the conversation...but she's the one who actually hears the characters speak, because to her it is people speaking (the perspective of the equal) rather than characters in dialog (the perspective of the creator).

This is also why when I snark it is probably because of something she thought of. Most of my puns tend to come from her. I can force puns through without her, but the best puns which come with the least reaction time are always hers. Because she just sees the 'line' to say, as it were.

So basically. Ranger is why I got to become a character-driven storyteller in the first place, in spite of originally being a plot-driven storyteller. She spends time to learn character quirks, to learn things that aren't necessary for the narrative. I can get away with a bare bones narrative not featuring the things I put in...but she insists on them, because she saw them, when she was actually there side by side the character in question. Or rather, to her, the person.

In contrast. When I am mastina. I am more into geometric thinking. It is constructed, it is built, it is structured, and yet, it is also isolated. All the geometric work I do in my mind is largely disjointed from other things. I just go inside my mind, and then in a particular canvas, build what's on my mind. Now, from that item I built, I can then build another. And then, build another from those. And so on and so forth.

I make the parts, one by one, until I have the whole assembly. Circles, squares, cylinders, triangles, and the like, to build a person in art. But also worldbuilding. I build worlds. Worlds have rules. Rules require structure. Ranger wings it in terms of that sort of thing, which is often why her stories run into problems of, "okay...now what?". Where the story ceases to progress due to writers' block, because she has an idea for what things should be like and she knows very specific things (because she saw them, and thus, those specific things are in her mind), but if she doesn't see every last detail then she runs into a problem of not being able to progress.

This way of thinking does have overlap with linear thinking--after all. To get from Point A (which is geometry; points are one-dimensional geometry) to Point B (which is still geometry), you need to...form a Line. That is two-dimensional geometry. But to further the metaphor, the line created using this method is straight, rigid and unmoving, whereas the lines created with linear thinking are more fluid and bent.

Now, the metaphor begins to fall apart when you introduce more advanced math (parabolic arcs, sin, cosine, tangent, and so on and so forth) not to mention the geometry of even just a partial circle allowing for curves in the form of arcs, there's at least a dozen way math nerds can poke holes in the allegory. But the basic idea I'm getting at is that there is in fact overlap, and that's where it is.

But there are things which are in the geometry only just like there are things which are in the linear only. Some of them are strengths, others weaknesses. Characters I build as mastina tend to be tools. They are characters--means to an end. I construct worlds, I construct their rules, and I make most of the plot. I know the overarching events which happen.

I don't know the exact manifestation of them. I might know the tone of a conversation. I might know the general content of the conversation. I tend to know why that conversation is going on. And many other similar things. I can know every detail of the conversation, except the actual words spoken. It's kinda strange, to even know the exact inflection and intonation of what is said yet not knowing the words. I can do that.

But for the conversation itself, if it's not Ranger, it's going to be very visibly artificially constructed because it was in fact artificially constructed. She lives it and thus records it and knows what's natural, and it's her instincts on dialog which I am using in things like Phyrra and Cyrus, but what she sees is only small snippets here and there, often only after I focus on a particular scene for a great amount of time.

The payout's absolutely worth it, of course. Because I never laugh heartily at conversations I have built, whereas when I am Ranger and I see the conversation happening, I laugh hard, especially if my characters are laughing with me. So it's not that Ranger is an artist/writer and I am a writer/artist. We're equal parts both, just...in different ways, with different strengths and different weaknesses.

And, yes.

This exists outside of writing, just like it's outside of art.

It's how we process information. I itemize lists. I have a very "listed" format. Structured, orderly. Ranger...messes it up. I tend to be the one writing our "scripts". I've talked about that before a bit (not sure if on the blog or not), but basically, whenever I am thinking about a conversation I'll have, or whenever I am in the middle of a conversation, I think up every possible variation on what I want to say, and every possible response I can think of that they'll say.

When I then promptly mess up no matter how much I tried to nail it, it's often Ranger who picks up and just wings it. But sometimes I mess up because of said winging it, especially if she jumps in without giving me the time to have built the script. 

Ranger's got a faster wit, after all, so it's no surprise her reaction time tends to be quicker. She just kinda sees things, and then puts it together, even if she has no clue how she saw them and put them together. "Oh, that is like this". With no thought in, she just makes the connection and then that connection is there.

I have...a more roundabout way. I link things together. I make an association: "this to this". And then I rely on that association to make a new one. For instance, in order to remember the band name Modest Mouse, I first think, "Band name...Mouse..." and then I jump to "Mightey Mouse", a user from the site I play mafia on, and then from there I go, "Ah! Yes. Not Mightey mouse, it's MODEST Mouse!" in order to get the right band name.

Yes, it is contrived. Yes, it is convoluted. But you know what else it is? It's consistent. I can, 100% of the time, using this method, remember a string of information, even a disproportionately long one. And that association tends to never go away. Once in my mind, it is almost impossible to remove, for better or for worse. I have never once failed to recollect the band name of Modest Mouse since my mind made that association, in spite of me having to mentally ask what the band was (and sometimes being asked) dozens, even hundreds of times.

There is a delay built in, though. I have to manually think it through, step by step. Some steps I can skip because they are internalized enough that my mind conceptualizes it fast enough that I don't need to spend time giving it a thought. (Basically, the concept of the step is enough; I don't have to spell the step out every single time in actual thought.) But I still run through every step to get that.

I can also do temporary versions of this by 'storing' data on my fingers. I can itemize things, and then even itemize the itemized things, and sometimes even itemize the itemized itemized things, though the deeper the list, the more prone to forgetting I am.

Concepts take form, take shape, one by one: each concept can be thought of as a single piece of geometry. And then my mind links the concepts, one by one, by building further geometry. And each concept is then fleshed out with additional concepts, additional geometry. And from this I form thoughts, form words, form ideas, that I can express in word form or whatever I may be trying to do.

Ranger's way is more. Well, she still thinks in concepts first, and struggles to translate concepts into English. It's just, BAM, there, and then, not there. There, then not there. There, and then from there, going here. But there's not really much of a direction when I do that. (Oh and yes I do slip from Ranger to mastina in the middle of a blog. Get used to third person, first person singular, and first person plural when I make a blog like this because I can be describing myself in third person, then slip into being that person.)

I just. Think. And the thought appears. Usually faster. But also more inconsistently and less coherently. It makes sense, internally, but externally when manifested it's more difficult to understand because while it has the general shape of something which is the right thing, the specifics are a little iffy.

I don't even really know how it works. It just does. And the results tend to be what they are. (A slight consequence of switching mid-project: I tend to lose the train of thought I was on, because quite literally the thought belongs to someone else and with the thought in that someone else I struggle to maintain it.)

Structure the specialty of one, details the specialty of the other. Things come faster when specific, yet are more coherent when waiting. And that coherency is easily broken, yet solved on the fly just as often.

Which brings me to a related concept.
I am still exploring this, actually. The concepts, intuitively, feel like they are different, and yet when I look at them, I can't help but feel they are intricately linked in a way where the amount of correlation between the two is such that they are almost synonymous.

And that's Instinct versus Reason. (Or Gut versus Logic if you prefer, but I have very strong reasons to prefer my terminology, that I'm not quite sure I can verbalize.)

Instinct and Reason have always been opposites within me existing strongly, and yet never having me be one; I'm always a little bit of both. Yet I've picked up that Ranger tends to be more instinct and I am more reason as mastina. (YES REALLY. If you know what my definition of Reason is, you'll understand.)

The way I wanted to talk about this was to actually go into stories a bit. In Red Hood Rider, Vampires represent the ultimate creatures of Instinct, masters of it who live on their impulses. They manipulate the rules of reality to serve them, bending the world to their will, but they are still confined to them. As basically-humans, they do have plenty of reason within them, but they are driven by what they feel.

This is almost identical to Monlows from the Bleach knockoff story I still need to talk about in a massive blog some time, and is a recurring theme in my stories. Werewolves in one story serve this function. Red Hood Rider is not my only vampire story where Vampires take on this function. It is an incredibly common motif: a creature of instinct, which is still capable of reason and yet is driven strongly by base directives.

In Red Hood Rider, the beings considered opposite of Vampires are Riders, who are considered on the top of the magical totem pole for Empowered Humans. They are humans who work on building structure, building order, on being the champions of reason, who exist always with logic and act in an informed way, making active decisions and calculating what they do.

​They still have instincts, and often quite sharp ones at that, but they never let their instincts take control and drive them; they have an internal control over themselves which prevents them from acting out in ways they know would be harmful. (Of course, they can still act in harmful ways if they don't realize it's harmful, but they are sharp and intuitive enough where they catch on quickly and fix the mistake when it's made.)

I forget on my notes on whether they break the rules of reality or temporarily rewrite them (I'm fairly certain it's one of the two and yes those two terms have a very important distinction in the Rubyverse, I just can't remember which is which in spite of them very much not being synonymous), but that's the source of their power--not something from nature (like vampires), but rather, something artificially created, manifested as a structured thing which has boundaries set by the user. They are still human, but they are human with help.

This model is more or less the same in the Bleach knockoff as being what the Montahame work off of. It is also the model which in settings where I have Slayers, they work off of. Beings who still feel, and have good instincts, but yet are driven first and foremost by reason, often with compassion thrown into the mix, yet with said compassion not getting in the way of doing their duties.

Contrasting the beings of instinct, who are under no obligations except for the self-inflicted ones they place upon themselves--sometimes, out of morals, but other times, simply out of a desire to survive, knowing that breaking said self-inflicted rules is a death sentence.

Ranger works more off of instinct. She can just have a sense for things, and that sense is often right, but while she can try to explain, when she tries to, she has difficulties. I'm no better, but for different reasons. I can figure out something, but when I figure it out, I don't figure out how to explain. I need to spend the time to create a different link in order to make the connection be tangible in words.

Another way of putting it--we all suck at wording things. Ranger gets flashes of beautiful words which are great but often broken/disjarred, whereas I struggle to get things but once I form the link I can throw together some elementary idea of what's the thing I am meant to do. 

Yet the way we suck at words is different. We approach things and react differently. Ranger has a first impulse and usually goes for it; I first think, then from the first impulse, further think, and from this, go for what I think. Yet Ranger still has to think, and I still have to go for what I feel is correct. Working in tandem, both present yet one dominant.

Yet there's more to Instinct versus Reason than just Ranger/mastina.

There are entities within me that aren't just those two, after all. I am many mes. They are the most dominant, but not the only ones. I don't even always know who is speaking, so to speak, but I can sometimes tell I am neither of them. Yet predominant entities within me are two individuals who never take the reigns.

They are the only two entities that I clearly know, aside from Ranger and mastina. They have been there for almost as long as I can remember. And yet. Neither has ever driven in my life, nor am I sure it's even possible for them to. They exist in the distance, in the peripheral. And never go away. They're always there.

I don't always have their counsel when I am talking amongst myselves (which is a thing I do, by the way; I do in fact have many a conversation where the many mes have full dialogs on a subject which could have been handled by just one person but wasn't because I wanted them to give their input), and in fact. Usually when I have their counsel it is just one or both of them with the current driver rather than a full council of mes talking side-by-side with them.

God pronouns are confusing even me so I hope you can follow along.
Basically, many mes talk to me at many times. But two entities, which I don't really consider "me", exist within me, that can also talk. And they have been manifested as instinct and reason. David, instinct, hasn't quite been around as long. My first memories of him are in my tweenaged years. But he (and yes, he is a he) has come to be a bit of the darker side of me.

He is not pure instinct. In fact, he is sharp with reasoning that cuts deep because I can never counter him when he speaks--because deep down, I know he's speaking the truth, more often than not. He just has the instincts for knowing what the case is...even if I really, really, really hate to admit that he's right. Because he's not a pleasant individual.

He is rude. He is condescending. He is demeaning, looking down on me, trash-talking me often. And he tells me what I don't want to hear, about all the things which I don't like to acknowledge come from me. Darker thoughts, darker impulses. He is there, reminding me that yes those exist, inside of me, and that he is the living proof of them, both as a manifestation of them and yet as something more than that.

Thankfully. I don't talk to him that often anymore--not because I've tuned him out. But just because he often isn't around when I don't need him. (And yes. I do need him sometimes, sad as I am to admit that.) Where he is when I don't talk to him, I don't know. He's never fully gone, but he just stays silent. I don't even know what exactly triggers him to give me a talk. I can have my life in a rut and have him be silent and yet not be in a rut and have him be quite talkative.

Yet every time, the feeling I have is the same: I hate, I loathe, the talk, yet feel better once I manage to recover from it. Talking to him rattles me each time, talking to him makes me miserable every time, often when I am already miserable, yet somehow because he is my deeper instincts or something like that I always end up stronger.

Basically, he beats me down and yet when I build myself up again after being beaten down, I am stronger than before. I guess when I don't feel like I need to get stronger he isn't around, would be my best guess. And that, I do admit, I have a lot right now. That "I know I should have a need to get stronger...but I am fine with my strength as is". I imagine with that mindset I am in for an awfully rude talk sooner or later, but for now it holds as silent.

Plus, one thing I am thankful for having him is that he is a safeguard against something worse. There is an entity within me that is me. ME. Not him, who is divorced from me. ME. A me, deep within Bree. Which is part of the median system. That is so bad that I bury it (not sure if it's a he, she, or neither). A me who has thoughts so terrible that I actively suppress trying to access what those thoughts were. (No, seriously. It's blocked off. I can't remember why this version of me is so bad. I just know it is that bad.)

I've tried guessing. "Is it a suicidal me?" Felt like, "no, it's worse than that". "Is it some deplorable act me?" Felt worse than that, too. I don't know what that version of me is, but it is the thing I am absolutely most terrified of. Some me that I consider a monster even among the monstrous mes. And yes. I have been a monster before. Yet the monstrous mes that I have been are terrified of the me that I buried.

To put it another way, the me that I buried is basically an evil even beings of pure evil fear. And I don't have the slightest clue as to why--only the strong warning to "don't dig", and that is a warning that I know better than to override, because the few times this version of me has come out, I have vague memories of the experience, of the mes around, just being terrified that that me was loose.

David, as much as I don't like him, I've come to accept as a part of me (well, not the core-me, but peripheral-me, inside my brain but not inside my mind, if that makes sense), that acts as a safety net against plummeting into the unpleasant mes. He is the monster who keeps my monsters in check. He is a very unpleasant person. And there have in fact been times where I've actually feared him, thinking that if he ever did drive, my life would never be the same, in a very, very, very bad way.

But I'm not afraid of him anymore. (I think in part because for whatever reason David cannot possibly drive and even if he could he would refuse to because he has no desire to. He's just. Different. Whatever he is, he isn't someone that is a me as I know my mes to be. The mes that I know are basically drivers, just drivers for different times, with most of them being unknown and not being dominant and not driving often and so on and so forth. He's just...nothing like them.)

David does have a counterpart.

My imaginary friend, and he (yes he) has been around for as long as I can remember, is someone who does in fact act as my reason. I tend not to talk to him as much anymore, mostly because a lot of the feedback he used to give me, my mes tend to converse between each other to give instead.

But in spite of that. There are times where my mes basically all go silent...and instead, I have just my driving-me and him talking to one another. And he calls me his friend, as I do him. He was one of my first friends, and remains a friend. I know what he looks like (short brown hair and otherwise looking like me and basically mirroring my appearance as I age in that he has aged right along side with me), and he is often there to just.

Basically, he tells me what I already know, but instead of being the voice of negativity and base instinct like David is, he's the voice of positivity, always reinforcing me and reassuring me. I knew from basically the moment I began to interact with him that he was the stereotypical "imaginary friend" which kids often have and which they outgrew.

And yet if he's an imaginary friend, I didn't outgrow him because he's still around and doing exactly the same things he always has done. The strange thing about him is that unlike David whose most clear thing about him is that his name is in fact David, this positive friend inside me, the entity, has never had a name. Well, I have tried to name him, but it's like he has a real name, he's not sharing it with me, and he just accepts whatever moniker I happen to give him.

I don't know why he's that way. I feel like he has a name, but I don't know it in spite of having been his friend for so long. No matter what, the feeling of me giving him names yet none being him remains. The most recent is Brian, but previous ones include Crivon (a name I owe from the Bleach knockoff) and Ace among numerous others.

I just talk with him, we bounce back ideas, finish each others' sentences, and converse, on whatever topic. Most of the time when we talk these days, it is primarily a conversation which goes "Sorry I haven't been talking much with you these days". Which he is fine with, because like David he's always there even if he's not speaking up.

He does occasionally talk side-by-side with David, too. He counters David when David takes things a bit too far, offering me a counterbalance when I can't really defend myself. He's basically just...a good friend, one who has all the dynamics of a long-time friend, yet one who is in my head. And is of the same nature of entity-hood as David: not a me. Not part of the Bree core.

Not a transwoman, not a girl, not me-me. Part of my brain, but not part of my mind. I kinda have a bit of a theory when it comes to interacting with him and David. I think that in those moments, the many mes temporarily merge into one me, unified if only for the duration of the conversation, and then once it ends, once David/my friend are dismissed, I again divide into the many mes.

That is a thing, by the way, with median systems, to my understanding. From what I heard, it is possible for medians to merge together permanently, yet also possible for them to split apart permanently, depending on circumstances. Yet a more temporary version does happen commonly enough.

There are moments where, for instance. I know I am neither mastina nor Ranger yet I'm not some third me...but rather, both Ranger and mastina, at the same exact moment, in equal parts. Not one driving with the other very close to the surface (I do that, too, quite often), but literally fused, merged together into a single entity...for a short while, a very short duration, which then splits off again and I can tell I am Ranger or I am mastina and that the other is right there in the background, not driving but around, existing, as a separate me.

Basically, mes are highly fluent. I'm still not sure about all of the specifics here. This is still a very new thing for me to experience and explore. I do know my feelings on the matter though. I know that I am me. That this is real. That there is more than me, that there are many mes. That there is no single entity that is Bree, that we are all partially Bree with a core that we draw from, and from that core we are connected to one another.

I know that I have no desire to see the many mes go away. I don't want to be unified. I know that I am not deranged. I know I am not delusional. I know I am not mentally unwell. I'm different. I am...very, very, very different. I know that I am largely unique. I know what some of the mes feel.

It is pretty much that. That we have some unity, but are split. That we are one but many. Bree, but each with something unique. Separate, able to have different thoughts, feelings, emotions, memories, yet united. I know people don't believe me when I talk about these things.

That's one of the reasons why I only talk about them in private for the most part. That very specific environment I mentioned to talk about these things? The one where it's not public and requires a lead-in of a particular nature? That'd be a large portion of the reason why.

It's not even a thing which I really feel that comfortable talking about in private, even. I'm having a REALLY hard time finding the right words to describe that. I am trying, but even the closest ones I can come up with are way, way, way off, and send the incredibly wrong message. 

So word of caution on me trying to explain.

I don't mean these words, but some different words that I can't find. The reason I tend not to talk about it even in private amongst people who know is because it's enjoyable for me for me to...hmm. I guess you can say. Think of it as watching a film--you shut most of your mind off during that time, yes? Well when I interact with people. I do that. It's a time where most mes can sit back, do nothing, and relax.

And when I talk about the multiple mes, instead of them relaxing, they are there. So that's why I don't talk about it that often. It's something which is not suited for public because of how the public reacts to it, yet it's something which in private I tend to...well. Sometimes, yes I do think and yes I do share, but other times I don't because the other mes are taking their time to rest and relax.

I wish I could make this be sensible, make sense, but I can't really word better.

It unfortunately requires a specific mindset for me to talk about it (namely for me to be more of a certain me), which means that right now I can't, but...when I can, you will enjoy it!

...I mean. It could be worse. The other guard coulda been a girl; the opener coulda been one of the more insistent ones. Neither is the case but it's a good thing, since otherwise I might not have held together. As-is, it'll still be tricky enough for me. I didn't have breakfast made for me--this would be fine if I left myself time to make one, but I did not. I didn't have coffee fixed for me; same thing, only stronger: brewing coffee takes WAY too much time.

To top it all off...last night I basically got zero sleep. Oh, I went to bed plenty early enough. I shoulda gotten 4.5-5 hours' sleep. Not as much as ideal, mind you, but a normal, typical amount on a Saturday night (I can't go to bed before midnight) given how early I wake up on Sundays (6 AM).

...It's just that I didn't actually sleep. This is different from staying up; I was actually in bed with my eyes closed so not staying up. This is different from having poor quality sleep (though that's a problem I can have, too!). This was me, flat-out tossing and turning for hours and being physically trapped awake. I never had so much as LIGHT sleep. Because with light sleep, you at least have dreams. I wasn't dreaming. Not once.

This isn't, "I remember nothing". When I've dreamed yet cannot remember anything, the memory of the dream still remains afterwards in spite of the contents being missing: I have an awareness that I was dreaming even if I don't remember what about. So I basically 100% ALWAYS know when I've had a well and true, proper, dream.

This is flat-out no dreams, because of no real sleep. My mind god chaotic mumblings and jumblings. I talked to myself a lot. Self-reflected. Much of which felt honest even if I'm not sure about it myself. I felt my mes were speaking to each other, but with an absolute lack of harmony, lack of control.

There was just no focus. There was just no direction, but not in the aimless wandering way, pleasantly drifting from one thing to the next. In the "can't actually lock onto something soothing". I was tense. I was stressed. I couldn't relax. It just was all-around unpleasant.

I'd honestly have preferred a nightmare. Nightmares are, after all, dreams, just bad ones. They're still subconscious though. And last night was all too conscious. I never stopped thinking. I couldn't focus/direct my thoughts, yet my thoughts still were racing: the worst of both worlds. And now, after that, I've got no food or coffee. So today will be hard to endure.

So work wasn't actually bad in of itself, save for one annoyance.
At the times that people usually come there was basically a ghost town.
At the times that nobody should be around, we were at almost a two-guard ratio of mostly kids, with it being all families seemingly randomly choosing to be around at that one time.

So it was busy overall, but not bad. It was actually pleasant and relatively restful.
And all the other problems I mentioned, I've been dealing with today. I've eaten a lot (a lot a lot), I've slept a little amount, I fully believe I will sleep like a log tonight (I believe that when I go to bed I will conk out quickly) meaning no need to worry about being safe...

...Essentially I'm saying that my girlfriends' first reactions to reading what I wrote this morning would probably be to panic even after the day had finished and I'm telling them not to because while I thought​ the day would be bad, it actually ended up turning out to not be.

Whichever me is driving me right now, it is a blissful and content me because I am just right now overwhelmed with a feeling of calmness, serenity, of smoothness and of overall just joy, of happiness and contentment. This, in contrast to the me of last night. I don't have all the memories/experiences of last night. I remember what I did, and I can remember what emotions I had, but I can't remember the connections between them.

It's actually, ironically enough, a little bit like how I describe Black Ruby (Ruby's Dark Messiah/Forbidden Art #3 superform) compared to her normal form, actually. I blogged about that way way way long ago, and at the time while Ruby was in fact based off of me that particular bit I meant as fiction not fact. Yet apparently my subconscious is able to predict me better than I can because it's an apt description.

I'd have to track down my entry on the subject. But basically. I know what I did, more or less. I know most of what I thought. I definitely know the feelings I felt last night much to my horror (because I know exactly what those feelings are and they are feelings which go beyond emotions I know words for. Think something akin to bitterness mixed with rage, wrath, hatred, anger, a desire to lash out, loathing, contempt, and feeling slighted and I don't know any single emotion which is all of those combined: a pound to the heart, instinctively going into fight-or-flight and choosing the former--it's not a pleasant thing).

...But I can't connect the dots between the three. It both feels like something which is real, and something which I was imagining. It both feels like it's truth, and yet a lie. Because it both feels like it was me, and yet it wasn't me. So it'd be more accurate to say it was a me, it just wasn't a very pleasant me.

I'm not gonna lie and say that I'm a bed of roses right now (there's still lingering emotions from last night I call forth whenever I think about me in that mindset), but I do overall just have that feeling of...love. Love of the world. Love of the moment. (This is a biggie.) Love of the situation I'm in. Love of others. Extra love to my significant other who I am going to miss talking to. (I'd cheat and go talk to them while I'm at school, but while they would emotionally enjoy that, they would rationally not want me to do that and overall their rational side is stronger than their emotional side so I don't want to upset the rational side and as a result, I'll just have to resist.) And even love of myself.

A liiiiiittle bit saddened at me having failed to be better. My being that me of last night was something I was actively working to not do, so in that sense I slipped. I got in my head an idea that I had to do things even knowing that my mindset was worsening as the night progressed rather than getting better. (And not worsening due to degradation of cognitive function thanks to the hour. Just worsening on an emotional level.)

But while perhaps regretful or even remorseful. I'm not actually loathing myself for having gotten into that place. It's not what I wanted, it's something slightly shameful, it's something I might have a slight fear of, but it's not something which right now I'm really worried about. I'm just...in a zone right now. An emotionally mature, mentally mature, adult mother zone where I feel like I just know myself and know it is good.

Now. As for the rest of my day. I ended up waking up early. We're talking, 11ish early...and that's after the denial of me having been awake, so really 10ish. (This, in spite of me staying up until 4:30...and not really getting to sleep until almost five.) Yeah, I know. That's not much sleep. I took an hour nap though to help a little bit. And it's not my fault. I didn't set a timer. That's just the time my body woke me up.

Maybe outside stimulus played a part (I honestly don't remember), but that's the time I was woken up like it or not. Thaaaaaat...probably means I'll be exhausted by the end of the day, buthey. Today's the last day of college. A little tiredness is worth it. As is a little hunger, since all I had was the edible parts of three eggs for breakfast and that means I'll basically be going 8-10 hours without a meal. (God I hope my family makes me something even though I doubt they will because after being tired I'll probably be in no mood to be creative.)

I'll survive, is what I'm saying. It might be a bit unpleasant, but this is the last time, so no more worrying for me will be necessary. But anyway. I also got my car back today. The downsides? Bad radio. (My car has no antennae and thus has static everywhere and almost no actual music. The fix to the car did seem to make it better though weirdly enough.) Less storage space for stuff; awkward retrieval of stuff.

Not having a door which actually locks when my car is parked in a rather shady location. (Everett...isn't really the greatest of places. It's not really safe. You see lots of signs of it everywhere, from the type of people walking around to the state of things to the advertisements on boards to horror stories of the area.)

And having it be a smaller car means that in order to sit at the location I want to (basically all the way forward), my head rams straight into the top of the car, because the wagon is meant for either shorter people or for taller people to sit further back. (It apparently never occurred to people that a tall person might actually want less leg room, not more.) In contrast, the 4runner is big and bulky and thus it's basically impossible to run into that problem.

The upsides? Literally everything else; I think perhaps part of the reason I'm in such a calm mood today is simply because of just how smooth my ride was today. (Car driving can really set the tone for the day.) It's a little difficult to say if I was in a good mood and thus drove like it or if I drove in a way which created the good mood, though it doesn't matter in the end. (Honestly I think it might be a bit of both, in a self-feeding loop of sorts.)

The car handled beautifully. The steering was great, the acceleration/deceleration were the best they've been in a long time, the radio was clearer than it has been, it was just a calming feeling I suppose to be in that car and driving it in a relatively safe way.

Anyway. I'm at school and should be working.

My immediate to-do list:
-Make an MS Paint sketch of my cup
-Make the power point presentation for my project
-Finish the drawing for my project
-BS a way to make this seem harder than it was
-Maybe mention what I failed to do and what I learned from the failures
-Do all the parts for the quarter in a fraction of the original time and then do drawings of them
*Print the drawings I haven't already done
-Print the drawing for my project
-Ask my assistant instructor about maybe 3-D printing my project

...It's a lot to do but I have a lot of time, so. I'm not all too concerned.
Wish me luck! (I might need it since I am notoriously prone to distractions.)

Albeit, more in the projecting way. As in, basically feeling phantom limbs in a sense, in this case being phantom anatomy: things technically not there and yet which were so strongly felt today it was as IF they were there. (It's moments like these where it'd be a hilariously bad idea to do anything to disrupt that projection because it would in fact trigger a dysphoric episode to have been in this euphoric zone feeling as I should feel and then having reality oh-so-kindly reminding me that is not the case.)

Yesterday I felt like regardless of my birth biological sex and regardless of my appearance (which was androgynous leaning on heavily feminine), but today is a feeling of being inside the right body even though I technically am not. I just feel like I'm in the body of a woman today (even though I know that's not the body I have), and it is an awesome feeling. That's the feeling I look forward to eventually feeling every single day and having constantly non-stop.

Since eventually I will transition. Eventually I will get the surgery done. These are not wants. These are not desires. These are goals, goals I might not quite have the plan to accomplish, but things I can and will get because I do in fact need them.

I'm a girl. Always have been, always will be. When I look at my body, there's a duality within, both of rejection and acceptance: I can accept that is what my body is right now. I can accept that if I can't find a way to make my dreams come into reality it might be the body I am stuck with, trapped in, for life, and that I'd have to be okay with living in it, so to some extent I am.

...Yet that does nothing to change how it's not my body as I want it to be. I will never stop wanting a body matching my mind, until I have said body matching my mind. I could live a happy life without transitioning--but it'll never be as happy as a life where I do transition. Because being a woman and yet having a body which is not a woman's really sucks.

So that's why days where I can fully give off an aura, a projection, of being female in body as well as mind so effortlessly are so nice for me. They're glimpses into the future I wish to see come reality, and they are just about one of the best things I can have in my heart.

...The absolute best, of course, being...my significant other. I was thinking about them a lot, yesterday, last night, this morning, and the whole time I was just filled with love. A deep love, one where I was close to them the entire time. I want to be with them, to help them, to do whatever they need me to do. And it saddens me whenever I realize I can't help them, that they are on their own for their issues.

It's not in my nature to meddle with others. I don't pry, even if I'm curious, even if I want to know. And if they offer me the opportunity, asking me what I want to know, my mind draws blanks and in spite of me undoubtedly having things I'd love to know, I can't actually think of them at the time of the offer. And by the time I think of things which I do want details of, the opening has closed.

Maybe to them, the offer is an "always-open" thing, where they would answer a question no matter what time I asked it. Yet for me, I just can't ask unless I am given a specific opening, a specific prompt, TO ask. So mostly I don't. Mostly I just hold no interference in the lives of others...yet for them, for my significant other, it might be worth making an exception (them allowing it, of course). Because I want to be involved in their life, I want to be a part of their life, actively rather than passively. I wish I knew how to do that beyond this blog post though.

...At least as I write this. Obviously, by the time I post, I'll be at home, inevitably with more to say. But anyway, today I had a "D'oh!" moment when I realized I wore my work shoes rather than my workout shoes, which are two completely and entirely different things. (WELP THERE GOES MY RUNNING FOR THE DAY I GUESS I WON'T BE DOING FITNESS STUFF.)

Ah well. Still got plenty of walking done. (Enough where I am maybe even at risk of a blister forming on my feet. Owwww.) Not nearly as intense, but better than nothing, at the very least. Sometimes, plans just have that tendency to go awry.

...And speaking of plans for work, at some point soon enough for it to not inconvenience them, I need to inform my parents that the staff meeting this Saturday is a potluck, so they can go buy something for it. (What, I...well I don't have the slightest of clues. Food? Food sounds good.)

Why we're randomly having a potluck, I don't know. Whose idea it was to have food before going into the water (a hilariously bad idea for strenuous aquatic activity, i.e., the very thing we're going there for), also no clue. But oh well. It is what it is, I'll live, and I'll quite enjoy the food. (It just seems so odd to suddenly do.)

On that day, I will need to sadly leave earlier than normal: 30-60 minutes sooner ideally, because there's a bike race that day. (What time, dunno, but rather safe than sorry.) But with me aware of it in advance, I can plan accordingly and adjust things so where it's not a major inconvenience. (I'll probably be spending time with my S.O. so they might complain I have to leave so soon though. Sowwy.)

...On that note, that tangent's an excellent segue into a personal rant at my family. Last night, they wanted a mini-impromptu family night, watching Agents of Shield. No problem, right? That's a show we all want to watch. Of course. They either thought this idea up on the spot or otherwise failed to notify me of this in advance, expecting me to be ready to watch it in like five minutes.

This is not at all an unusual occurrence. What they fail to understand is that I am meticulous. I think out everything even if I don't look like I do. I absolutely need, need, something like six hours' warning in advance at absolute minimum (at least ideally), specifically because I plan my days out in advance.

Springing things on me last-minute (and thus, by extension, ruining my given plans) is a good way to sour my mood, as ideally I've got even more time than that: 12-24 hours if not even more is what I'd prefer to have ahead of the given time, so I can schedule things appropriately--clear my plate and leave nothing to be done during the given time.

When they ask me to do something...then they are asking me to do something during time I don't have cleared. Normally, this ends with me voicing discontent, but ultimately relenting. (And probably building the impression I'm not happy about watching the show. Half-true: I'm not happy, but it's for reasons unrelated to the show which is something I enjoy just...I enjoy it most of all when I am hyped up for it so springing me on it means I'm just in the wrong mood for it and thus I'm not going to enjoy it as much.)

This time, I bluntly told them "no", which I believe I vaguely alluded to yesterday.

The good from this: I genuinely, honestly feel that standing up for myself and not letting them roll over me is a step in the right direction, signifying my growth as an individual, because I'm letting it be known that, yes, I have desires that don't always coincide with theirs.

The bad from this: because I was distracted doing something else at the time, I didn't convey my motives FOR saying "no", so there may be consequences to me having done so. Among them, they may mistakenly believe my rejection equals an utter disinterest in the show, when that couldn't be further from the truth--I very much DO want to watch the show, I really do.

I just...want to watch it at a time where I'm not giving something else up TO watch it. This is ridiculously easy to do if I know about it in advance! I'll clear things up, making things happen all before, or in some cases, after the given time. My family doesn't know that I have a life.

They assume I'm wasting time, doing nothing, that I'm free--that what I've done isn't "real", and thus, it's meaningless, it holds no value, it's something which should be easy to give up. They think it an addiction and that there's nothing to be gained from it.

But I'm very much not doing that. The connections I've made have fundamentally changed my life on the most basic level, in ways I never would have known were possible otherwise. It was someone online who tipped me off to me being bipolar. It was people online who helped me realize I was trans. It was interacting with people online which made me realize why I had lost touch with people in person, that my autism meant I could be eloquent to them but awkward in-person.

I met my significant other online. And while we're working on slowly changing that, for the time being, we're still that way. (The closest we've come to each other is live webcam footage of one another without audio.) The feelings I feel for them are real, not lies, not me deluding myself. I've experienced me deluding myself (also online by the way since that never happened to me in real life), and I know what me deluding myself is--this isn't that.

All of it. It's real. It's me. I CAN be free...but I need to schedule it. Because otherwise I use every minute of every day. And I do make actual use of that time. I am doing things like interacting with people, both to give them advice and ask for advice. I do research on subjects, I try to figure out what I want to do and also how to make what I want to do become more realistic.

I connect with others. I may waste some time online, yeah, sure. A little bit here and there for games I do. But I mostly to be honest do those just as a hobby, as a personal thing for fun which is a small pastime, a small thing which takes less than an hour per day and whose main function is honestly to serve as a distraction from my true time. (It's much better for them to think I'm playing a game than it is for them to realize, say, I'm researching...oh, you know, something like GRS? Or whatever term you'd use.)

I can't communicate with them well in-person about these things. Aside from some of them being forbidden for obvious reasons (bigoted father), there's the fact that I have autism and I just don't communicate well especially when interrupted and my family doesn't know how to NOT interrupt. They don't know how to just listen. And for me to talk. That's what I need people to do. That's why this blog works. It's because I just talk. And then when I've finished. Then they can ask. Then they can launch inquiries. Then they can seek clarification.

But that never happens. I just. I function best when I can talk. And I can't talk to them because they just don't understand that the way I talk requires certain conditions they don't allow me to fulfill. They mean no ill will. It's not like they obsessively talk themselves. It's not like they're people impossible to get a word in with...for normal people. A normal person could communicate with them just fine.

Yet in spite of them knowing that I'm the way I am (all of them have at least a passing awareness of my autism even if only half know it explicitly by that name), they don't seem to understand, to realize, the natural consequence of what I am, being this.

I communicate in words, not speech.
The internet is where I do words.
So it's where I have gained my life experiences.
It is where I have lived my life.

It is the place where I know, where I feel at home.
And in a sense...it is the place I intend to stay with.
Because while to them, none of this is real...

...For me. They're honestly less real than that life.
In order to pursue my love, I already know that at some point it's quite probable I'll have to give up everything I have now in order to go to my significant other.
And yet...that is something I am fully prepared to do.

Because I know my feelings.
I know my own call.
I know myself.
I know how I work, and how I don't work, and I know what is and is not healthy for me.

Now me knowing what is/isn't healthy for me is no guarantee I'll actually BE healthy, admittedly.
I know spending an entire day on TVTropes is a bad idea and yet I am a trope addict.

But when I do those unhealthy things I know exactly what it is I am doing.

So I just.
I just wish there was a trust in them to trust me in knowing what I am doing is actually of value.

And going on a date with my significant other is something which I'd qualify as being important, and not a waste of time. I love them. Dearly and fully and truly from the bottom of my heart. Every day that love grows stronger and I experience it in different ways: different emotions I feel get tied to that singular emotion I have in my heart, and I know they are facets of love. Longing, happiness...the list is endlessly growing.

Emotions I know are tied to this one emotion which is new. And that new emotion which I've never experienced before can only be called love. Because I know the other emotions which are considered similar to love yet aren't really love. And this...isn't them. I well and truly. Utterly. Love a person.

No amount of sacrifices would be too much to spend time with them. <3

Why?
The omen.
That's why.

Which omen?
The omen.

I'm superstitious, remember?
Well the omen is encountering a Range Rover. Now granted. Right now I'm not really that much Ranger. She does tend to come forward when she's called on or when the mood fancies her to do so, so right now there's more of her than normal but I'm still not exactly her right now.

Butstill. Even when she's not actively a part of me. She's still a part of me. One of the mes. One of my selves, even if not the active self. So the superstition applies to all mes, not just to her. So when I see a Range Rover. I always think to shift the second R over: Ranger over. Thus, the bad omen.

And here's the thing.

I saw one in the parking lot for school.
But then I forgot about it by the time I was getting ready to leave--and the funniest of things happened.

I narrowly avoided a collision with a car. Somehow, I missed that they were coming, and accidentally cut them off. I imagine they had to slam on the brakes and honk at me. (I did back up and let them go in front of me, and I think they got the idea that, yes, I just genuinely didn't see them and I meant no ill will and wasn't trying to be a jerk.) So the omen was warning me of that, meaning I'm safe, right?

...Then I saw another Range Rover on my drive home.

Welp.

Unless said omen was warning me of the cop I saw on my private road (I doubt it), that means something terrible is going to happen to me and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I've taken as many preventative methods as I possibly can, yet something will inevitably end up happening. Which won't be pleasant.

Now granted. Said something could be a minor inconvenience in the grander scale of things. But all the same, I am doomed to encounter some form of bad luck today, so all I can really do is try to make it a small bad-luck thing rather than a big-bad-luck thing, and beyond that just brace for impact because dang​ does fate have a funny way of warning me about incoming disasters.

Probably on the way to dance, especially since most of my time prior to that will be spent asleep.

AAAAAUUHGH.

I SHOULD BE WORKING.
I SHOULD BE DOING SCHOOLWORK.
WHY IS MY BRAIN NOT WORKING.
I'M NOT FUNCTIONING.

THE ABILITY TO WORK.
IS ABSOLUTELY GONE.
GONE GONE.
LIKE, GONE.

ABSOLUTELY. COMPLETELY. ENTIRELY. GONE.
MY MIND. SHUT DOWN ON WORK.
I CAN THINK STORIES.
I CAN THINK CREATIVITY.
BUT CAD, SCHOOL STUFF, IS NOT THERE.

AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO OTHER THAN VENT BECAUSE MY MIND IS JUST NOT FUNCTIONING AND I'M WASTING LIKE THE ENTIRE DAY BECAUSE I SHOULD BE WORKING BUT I'M REALLY NOT BECAUSE MY FOCUS IS UTTERLY ABSENT AND MY MIND WANDERS AND THIS MUST BE HOW MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER FEELS BECAUSE I AM SCATTERBRAINED AND CONSTANTLY THINKING OF EVERYTHING EXCEPT THE THING I AM SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT AND I FEEL LIKE I'M A DIFFERENT PERSON THAN I NORMALLY AM WHEN SCHOOLWORKING OR IF I AM THE SAME PERSON I'M IN THE BIPOLAR EPISODE OF THE YEAR BECAUSE HOT DAMN DOES THIS NOT LOOK LIKE THE NORMAL ME, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Lights are flickering, so I might not be able to have this entry go through. I don't know why we'd lose power here, since it's just rain, no wind, so nothing our area can't handle (this is actually ridiculously light...well, relatively speaking, anyway), but it's at least a possibility.

Still.

​I am writing this entry assuming I can make this as an entry. I promised a rather lengthy ramble, and I intend to deliver it, and then some. Let's start with the 'some'--today was a long day. A long, loooooooong day. From work to counseling to college. It was exhausting, it was tiring, and I am so ridiculously behind. (I really really really REALLY need to get updated on, for instance, Go Get  A Roomie.)

But as per the usual at work, I did do some productive thinking. In this case, about colors. When I was younger, I assigned blue as my favorite color arbitrarily, since it wasn't a favorite color of any of my siblings. Orange, similarly so, became my second-favorite color. Green, my brother's favorite, was my third, so there was overlap. Butstill. This was exactly that:

While for them, these favorite colors of theirs were favorite colors, for me the favorite colors were a lie. I didn't know why at the time. I did insist on them, I liked them well enough, I continued on with the color scheme for years, but all the same it was a facade, since those colors meant nothing more to me than others.

I similarly held a hatred of red, blue's opposite color. There was no logic behind it. There was no reason for it. There wasn't even any feeling, any belief. I just avoided it, entirely on an arbitrary basis: "because I could". Because it was the image I presented. Because it was what was expected of me.

It took me until much later to realize the truth. Specifically, I began exploring the aspects of the myriad of colors: all their many meanings, all the things associated with them, what they symbolize, what they invoke, how each has strengths, how each has personalities, how they are essentially a living canvas of life, all with their own stories to tell.

And that's when I realized that I didn't really have a favorite color. I loved them all equally. To this day I still insist on the blue as favorite. But my real feelings are that basically any color is awesome, all of them are great, and that my favorite will shift from one to another depending on my mood, depending on what's appropriate, depending on my feelings, since those different colors, they all mean something different and that's an awesome thing.

...But here's the really really really really interesting part.
As it turns out.
There's.
There's, uh.

Actually a color association for me.

Rather specifically: mastina from the get-go has had blue as her primary color. (Or should I say me? Because right now I'm very largely mastina.) It started with her using the little blue moglin Zorbak as her avatar, and never really went away. So. I really actually in a sense do have that. And funnily enough, white is also a color I heavily associate myself with.

In contrast, Ranger from the get-go has had red as her primary color. It started with her red dragon avatar, but it has transcended that. I associate Red Hood Rider with Ranger more than anything else (after all, largely, I believe it is Ranger who makes Ruby), and guess what Ruby's colors are? Yep. Red and black.

The full dynamic and history is far, far, far more intricate than that. It's not quite forming coherently in my mind right now, which is a shame, because this feels like it's a wondrous tale to share, about how it turns out that both versions are true.

In a sense, I really do have blue as my favorite.
At the same time, blue is not my favorite--me insisting it was, was actually a little bit of denial on my part I believe.
And that applies to all aspects of my nature.

I associated red not with masculinity, but femininity.
So when I was young, rejecting it was me pushing it away, in denial of who I am.

Of course, now I understand colors a lot more, though to some extent that's actually still true believe it or not. Ranger I feel is actually more feminine than I am as mastina. I'm definitely still a girl. But I'm more of an androgynous blurring-the-gender-lines girl. As in, still a transwoman. Very much so. But. Not very girly. (Except when I am.) The spectrum of genders is near-infinite, but I actually feel more fluid (and as a result, more neutral) as mastina than as Ranger, who is solidly on the girly side at all times.

It's really really complex, I wish I had the words to describe it better. I'm always a girl, no matter what. But some of my mes are more so than others, some are closer to neutral, some fluctuate, some are both closer to neutral and fluctuate, and some are just flat-out full-on girls, no masculinity at all.

Let's see...college...didn't go so well.
Well it wasn't terrible.
But I wracked my head trying to do the quiz I knew I needed to do.
And in spite of my best efforts.
I just couldn't.

I hit a wall.
I kinda...gave up.
I'm not sure if it was the exhaustion of the long day.
Or the panic.
Or the feeling of pressure.
Or the simple frustration of knowing I should know the material yet not knowing it.
Or just not having it click.
Or being forced to skim since it's literally 90 pages I had to read through.
Or what.

I just.
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't connect things.
I couldn't make it work.

I did some of it.
I don't think I've done it well.

I don't know when it's due.
If it was due today I'll get docked 20% by turning it in late, on top of all the deductions for the things I'll get wrong.
It's just.
It's just hard.

And I don't know why.

I cruised through the actual part design.
I basically nailed everything else in class.
I even will get bonus points if I remember to send an email for them.
...It's just.
That quiz? It aint a quickie. 66 questions, nearly 200 points total in worth.
And I'm blowing it.

It's not a great feeling, and rather demotivating, and not something I really wanted to think about.
What I do want to think about?

Well, places that I'd like living at.
There are three basic locations where I want to live.

One is exactly where I am right now: maybe not this house, but this area. The Pacific Northwest. The reason? I love it here. I love all this area has to offer. I love the technology, I love the culture, I love the people, I love the environment. You know there's actually a ridiculously high number of my friends who're less than a 12 hour drive from where I live. British Columbia (usually Vancouver), Idaho's panhandle, Eastern Washington, Oregon (usually Portland), northern California (okay this might be pushing it a bit), and many places within my own Western Washington.

There's like. A ton of people here. With one exception (who I stupidly could contact yet haven't because I am a moron), I've never actually met any of them, for a myriad of reasons (namely, lack of established meetups, schedule conflicts on the few which do get established, and me being a huge freakin' coward), but they're HERE.

And the weather? The weather is what I like here. It's amazing. Plus the scenery is drop-dead gorgeous almost regardless of season, though I have a soft spot for Autumn. It's just. It's a place with a lot of supportive people. And lots of great stuff. And lots of connections. It's comfortable. It's safe. (Safe enough.) It's easy. What's not to love?

The second location I might want to live is in the United Kingdom--more specifically, nearby (but not actually in) London. Why there? Well for a start: it is also one of the locations most of my friends are in. I realize it's a whole country, meaning, not exactly a place where I can take a walk and go from one friend's house to another's.

...But all the same. In spite of that. There are in fact a bunch of friends in the UK, and quite a few around London. The other reason I'd want to go to the London area is that, by my understanding, the weather there is nigh-identical to Western Washington weather.

Why, I don't know. But my understanding is that it's essentially "mostly temperate, with occasional extreme heat or more commonly extreme cold; not usually too windy but windstorms can happen; stereotypically known for always being rainy yet not actually being that bad with plenty of sun, however, with that stereotype having existed for justifiable reasons given rain more often than not-rain".

That's my understanding of what it's like there, and that's literally what we have here. I believe this is actually backed by science, that the similarity between our two locations is actually well-known, and yet they exist for entirely different reasons. (Something to do with the seas I believe and the direction of the current, which makes the weather there be very weird compared to other places, yet that very weird is also in our state for different reasons.)

The third and final location where I'd love to live?
...Not like the other two.

Because that?
Would be Australia.
Now, incidentally.
The problems of living in London would be magnified tenfold in Australia: just because I have a ton of friends from there doesn't mean me also being there would mean we could meet. It's quite literally a full continent. Them being across the country is them being across a country, making them dead seriously the difference between living on the west coast of the US and living on the east coast: there's no ease of access whatsoever.

It also is rather...unusual, weather-wise. I mean. I'm sure if you looked hard enough. There'd be some place in Australia with weather comparable to my home. It is a full continent, and all that. Butstill. It's basically...all of an entirely foreign world.

Stereotypically, everything trying to kill you. (Whereas in Western Washington, nothing can kill you--except for a black widow which doesn't even exist except in areas of the state I'd never be in in the first place.) Also stereotypically, very very very very hot and arid: dry, desert, and with population largely focused in specific areas.

The reason Australia makes the list after all that, then, though, is quite simple:
The quality of the people there is just that worth it.

I mean.
I have friends in Canada, though that to me is basically just living in the US. (I know I know they're not the same but there's literally no discernible difference to me between a British Columbia native and a Washington native; the boarder means very little. It might be a different story if going to Ontario, but the same could be said of going to, saaaay, Texas.)

I have friends in many places across the world, another prominent place being Germany.

And the friends I have nearby, and in London, are really good friends.
And I have really good friends elsewhere in the country too.

But.
I'm thinking about it.
And I'm dead serious.
Across the years.
I've had my closest of my closest friends all be from Australia.
And that's what makes it be a place I'd be willing to move to.

The people there.
It'd be worth it.

And I know it'd make them so ridiculously happy.

Again, being on the same continent does not equal being able to see them all, butstill...
...One can dream, right?

​Anyway. I believe I owe an update on Civ 3 as well.

​The good news is: I found an alternative between being completely and totally utterly annihilated and holding out for beyond-impossible odds. 

The bad news is: I really really really really hate the alternative solution I have come up with for my problem.
Why?
Simple.

Because the name of this miracle?

Scorched earth tactics.

As in, "If I​ can't have Thessalonica, then nobody will!"

I tested it out once: it WORKED. Persia did not attack my two armies.
The problem is.
This is something I absolutely wanted to avoid.
When I faced a force I knew I couldn't hold off with my nearby elephant army, I ended up having to burn a formerly-Macedonian city to the ground, razing it, in order to keep the Persians from having it. (This city was the one north of Athens but south of Thessalonica.)

I really didn't want to be forced to do that again.

Especially given that it doesn't get rid of my problem--it only delays the problem.
I still would have 24 immortals nearby.
And then on top of the 24 immortals to the north...I have about an equal number to the south. (Well, less. On a bad turn, I counted about eight or so near there, but on the one time I did the scorched earth burn, I believe there were far more than that located there. Less than 24, but still of a rather large number. The total they have in immortals is I believe something like 36? In that range, at the very least.)

The problem with the Persians is that I can win any individual fight--even perfectly so. And I can replenish my forces faster than the Persians. I can build units almost every turn. I can attack multiple times per turn, killing more units than they can field.

My two normal armies can attack at least once a turn (if they have to traverse terrain), sometimes twice a turn.
My elephant army, twice a turn (if they have to traverse terrain), sometimes three times a turn.

So that's anywhere from 4-6 dead immortals per turn. This, plus my other units slowly but surely killing one after another immortal and then retreating out of range. (At least, for the most part.) The thing is. The Persians are just. Too dang close. With too dang many. For me to actually hold the line.

I can win the battle by atrophy. By denying them land, I can slowly but surely wear them out. Like I said. I can make units almost every turn. These units don't die easily, getting to live. (Albeit, often with only one health.) Meanwhile, I'm killing the Persians time and time again. It's just. It's a matter of scale. How many turns will it take me to wipe out their force?

I mean.

I have a southern offensive. In that field, I hold a distinct advantage.
I will claim city after city there, albeit me needing to give my units some rest at the moment.

But.
With the Persians where they're are.
We're looking at me essentially abandoning in addition to Thessalonica at least one, maybe up to three cities, all of which are conquests from Macedon I didn't want to ever lose. (Among them, I believe it's called Ambrasia? Would have to have the game up to check the names, but it's a city with a very good location.)

Cities with a lot of established buildings. Cities with a lot of established history. And I'd be burning them to the ground, in order to stop the Persian offensive.

You can understand why I am hesitant to employ this tactic, yes? After all...if I held Thessalonica, killing off all their 25 units in one stroke. (Or even 24 of said 25, or even 23 of said 25.) Then I'd keep all my ground, and be able to singlehandedly stop the offensive in one stroke. One decisive move, one decisive battle. Their strength would be gone.

And if I raze Thessalonica. Then I maybe, just maybe, slow the Persians down enough for me to wipe them out bit by bit. But also quite possibly very realistically end up having to sacrifice more than just Thessalonica. More than just the city I literally just as of that turn claimed. I might end up having to sacrifice cities I've held for ages.

And thus, the dilemma.

Hold on for a miracle.
Or make a tough sacrifice which might not even give me the results I want.

It's kinda sad that those are the two options I have, since the original was "let myself be pummeled into mush" or "hold out for a miracle", and now I'm substituting the first for the third of "hurt myself to not get badly hurt".

It's something I'll have to sleep on.
(Speaking of which, sleep's something I will be needing. Quite a bit of, considering I get up tomorrow early for class. And have Tae Kwon Do that afternoon, so.)