WoW Musings

The melancholy of the holidays is leaving me and I am spending a few days playing computer games. It is for enjoyment now, but there was a fairly long period in my life when computer games were pretty much the defining element of my days. I can quite clearly remember having the thought that I could just live in the games, having grand adventures yet being completely safe in at my computer desk, free from any risk in the world. I spent a lot of years like that, but it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

I suppose it could have been, if I had been able to just jack into the games and forget everything. There are people who can do that, I’ve known more than a few. A part of me envies that, because in my case no matter how much I wanted to get lost in the games and let life outside pass me by unnoticed, I could not. There was always a pull, always something inside of me whispering to me, telling me that I could do more, that I was meant for more. A drive that just would not allow me to stagnate endlessly.

I must say though, that despite the terrible beating MMORPGs have taken in the media, there are many out there who are leading active social lives and making friends who would never have been able to do so otherwise. Wherever there are other people there are opportunities for the learning, growth, sharing, and giving that create all that is truly worthwhile in life. There are people who have brought joy and happiness and life to one another simply by using their computers to meet up in these fantasy worlds. It isn’t fair to discount that. So I speak for me alone when I talk about the need for something more.

This is a bit of a rambling post I think, though most time what I write seems far more cohesive when I’ve given it some time to cool and come back to it. Bottom line is that I am feeling good today, and am not going to tie this particular post into a perfect essay-like package. This is where I’m at! I should have used that as a blog title!

Until next time…

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Expectation Is The Gate Keeper Of Insanity

I am pondering the holidays today. Pondering the expectation of them, the promise of the glitter and lights and smells that flow so thickly through my memories of them. Thinking of the many seasons I’ve spent chasing those impossible moments of innocence I knew as a child; hearing the sound of hooves on my grandmother’s roof and believing Santa Clause had landed to bring us our gifts, or staring into the depths of the Christmas tree and seeing worlds full of fairies and magic pulsing on the edge of every pine needle. These places cannot be returned to, and yet with the holidays I always find myself trying to do so.

Through these thoughts I have come to believe quite firmly that expectation is the gate keeper to insanity. So much in life is not what we believe it will be. From toys we received as children that seemed at a distance to be the tools of gods yet faded into mundane pieces of plastic within hours of touching our hands, to the gut piercing coldness of the moments after a realized lust in which one learns that it is worse to obtain what you thought you wanted and find it never existed to begin with, than to dream of what could be from afar.

So I am trying this 25^th of December to stop all expectation of anything. I am trying to let lose the images of warm beautiful evenings with friends and primal heat filled sexual interactions with imagined lovers who, by some great and wonderful dream, are connected to me through far more than the explosion of libido and chemicals in my blood. I am trying to sit here and be in the moment that is, and be happy with it as it is. I am not altogether succeeding mind you, but I am trying. And perhaps, just a vaguely possible perhaps, I will find myself surprised and happy with what comes to me as the days pass.

I am bone tired and sickened by the disappointment of life, and I think I may have finally figured out how stop it before it starts. The moment, the breath, the minutes, the seconds… these are all that is.

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Getting In The Habit

I’ve been trying to get back into the flow of writing a blog, it’s been several months and I am not the same person these days as I once was, to put it lightly.  So I find myself sitting here trying to determine just what sort of writer I am to be now.  Almost everything in my life has changed – my surroundings, my friends, my location, my ambitions.  The sort of navel gazing self pity I so often indulged in back in my early forays into the podcasting and blogging world is entirely foreign and uninteresting to me now.

So there is the question of what this blog is to be.  Is it to be funny?  A journal?  A fun collection of sexual innuendos?  Or is it better to just say that it is me, in the moment I post, whatever that be, even if it is an inconsistent cacophony of personality traits and opinions.   I think I will go with this – it’s me thrown up all over the place!

Now that I’ve established that, it’s time I start saying what I have to say – but it’s too early in the morning for that.  I’m sure I’ll have something later.

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Greetings Welcome Salutations And Stuff And So On And So Forth And That Sort Of Generalized Deal!

Hey there hey there!  Welcome to my brand new beautiful shiny blog you hot sexy reader person you!  This will be my place to spew and flow and squish forth with the various bits of stuff that makes up the man that is me, Eric, the Cub E.

As of this posting all that is here is this short little post and some flickr photos on your right, but more will come with time.  I plan on doing a full fledged, frequently updated writerly blog of writingness – so be sure to check back often!  Hugs and Shmoochies!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.