Me — My Dream About Columbus, Ohio

I know. The title doesn’t exactly scream “Hey, this has got to be interesting”, but I thought it would be fun to share a dream I had a few months ago. I don’t remember everything (obviously), but as my dreams go this one is pretty normal, with the only exception being the detail to which I remembered it upon waking up. The following is the final portion of a dream, pretty much exactly as it happened, with a few minor, forgotten details missing here and there. I also don’t remember the exact dialog, but I remember the jist of what was said. (I’d also be interested to hear what a dream analyst would have to say about this. I don’t subscribe to dream theory or anything like that, but I’d imagine the analysis would be pretty crazy.)

 

So, as per details earlier in the dream I don’t remember, there was this huge protest/march happening. Like hundreds of thousands if not millions of people, and there were so many that the march was taking place on America’s freeways. Like, all of them. I participated, but I wasn’t accompanied by anyone. Unlike most of my dreams, I didn’t know a single person in this one. As I walked aimlessly down the freeway (which wasn’t actually that crowded), I found that I had walked all the way to Columbus, Ohio.

Now, some context. I’ve never been to Ohio. I’ve hardly even been outside of California. But something earlier in my dream had established Columbus practically as an independent city state, with technology decades/centuries ahead of the rest of America, and yet semi-autonomous. After finding myself here, I decided to explore.

Imagine your basic sci-fi city. Rows upon rows of interweaving freeways, giant skyscrapers, flying cars, you know the deal. That’s what this place was, and the roadways and trails were dead-stop traffic. Even the pedestrian lanes that were in conjunction with the freeways. It was nothing amazing. The skyscrapers weren’t like, miles high or anything. The occasional flying car was by far the most advanced thing about this place. Well, until… you’ll see. I decided not to go to where everybody else was, and instead went to the beach. You know how Columbus, Ohio is famous for its beaches. (For the record, the sand at this beach was so soft it was like heavy flour. It felt awesome.)

As I walked across this beach, I saw a giant screen on one of the skyscrapers showing a documentary? Advertisement? Of one of the two Columbus, Ohio spaceships. I don’t remember it’s name, but it was like the USS Copernicus or something. This thing was huge, and the video had a guy talking about the specs of the engines, the size of the crew, just basic information. After watching that short little video I turned to see that spaceship cruising overhead, passing over the horizon and blueshifting (is that the term) as it passed the curvature of the earth. It looked something like this, but imagine a spaceship instead of a giant banana… you’ll see what I mean. Also, the audio is unsettling, so just a heads up.

Next, I walked down a little trail and some minor stuff happened I don’t remember. I think at some point I saw an actual dinosaur walking around, but nobody paid it any mind, so I suppose hologram. Nobody ever explained this to me.

Along my lonely travels, I stumble across a Nintendo Switch just lying on the ground. I look about to see if it belonged to anyone, but nobody batted an eye when I picked it up. A group of three kids sneered at me as they passed, saying “What a piece of garbage technology,” and let me tell you I got so offended to hear these snooty kids trashing on our normal modern day tech I wanted to stab him. I didn’t, but I wanted to.

lightsaberInstead, I noticed a red, telescopic lightsaber toy on the ground. You know the ones that are like a dollar each that you swing and the blade extends. I picked it up and shook it at the kids (who were already walking away) “This is what I grew up on!” I yelled at him. Let it be known that I am not trying to preach anything here. I am well aware that I am very young, that’s just what I said, okay?

Anyways, as I held it out, another stranger approached me and extended a blue lightsaber. He started saying something like “I have searched long and hard for you, Sith. There is no running now…” yadda yadda yadda. He was obviously roleplaying and looking for a LARP fight I guess. Maybe he had planted the toy there for some stranger to pick up?

Well, I immediately moved to set it back down on the ground and said “Oh, no, this isn’t mine, you must be—”

At which he thrust his lightsaber towards me threateningly. Now, nobody has ever threatened me to roleplay with them, but this guy meant business, so I played along, and we dueled.

It was a normal, boring fight of two people hitting plastic lightsabers against each other. As we fought, though, a lion approached us. It was behind him, and he hadn’t noticed it yet. Remembering the dinosaur nobody reacted to before, I made no comment. For all I knew it was a hologram or something.

But as soon as it came into his peripheral vision, he flipped out and bolted. I think he cursed, too, but the guy was clearly terrified. So, not being from around here, I decided to follow the local wisdom and ran away as well.

At this point, I decided I should go home. I didn’t know how to get there exactly, but somehow I did know the exact direction home was to me, so I headed that way. There was no path I followed, I was just walking through grass until I came across a wall and floor that was colored in rainbow.

As soon as I stepped onto the floor, a gameshow announcer yelled “Let’s see if Kollin can get past the Tunnel of Snakes!” I didn’t want to get past the Tunnel of Snakes, but I didn’t want to turn around either, so I continued. Note: This was a wall, not a tunnel. There wasn’t even an opening. I don’t know how I just… walked through, but one moment I was on one side, the next I was on the other. And I didn’t die of snakes, so win-win.

I kept going, and there was another wall. I thought hey, I beat snakes, what’s the worst that could happen?

Spiders. The game announcer yelled “He got past the Tunnel of Snakes, let’s see how he handles Spiders this time!”

This time, I felt spiders fall all over my body, into my clothes, just everywhere. I bolted as fast as I could, but there were just so many. I didn’t feel any pain, but I knew they were just biting me all over, and while I got past the Tunnel of Spiders, I passed out.

Later, I woke up in a hospital bed, whether in Columbus or home I couldn’t say. On one side of me there was a piece of paper with a stick figure drawing on it. Behind the stick figure was a semicircle haphazardly colored halfway in red crayon. As I looked at it, I felt like… magic hospital healing juice pump into me, and I watched as the rest of the semicircle was colored in with red crayon, as if my health bar was being refilled.

Once it was full, a kid jumped onto the bed and said, “You’re good to go!”

And then I woke up.

Review — Jukebox the Ghost

I really don’t talk about music often. For the most part, I just have a list of three hundred (ish) songs that I play on shuffle, with wildly different genres mixed in. When I’m not listening to that playlist I’m listening to podcasts or just straight video game soundtracks (as in literally a three hour YouTube video of title song to credits song).

But some time ago, a friend of mine showed me a new band. This wasn’t irregular for him, he always has a new band for me to listen to. It’s mostly garbage, I don’t know how he calls half his playlist music, but the most recent time we hung out he introduced me to Jukebox the Ghost. It got me thinking: how often do people genuinely listen to and appreciate others’ music? I’m certainly not the type to enjoy anything except for the stuff I already have.

And yet, I’ve listened to Jukebox the Ghost almost exclusively for about a month straight. With no sign of stopping, even. I tried listening to my old playlist, and thought about adding some JtG songs to it, but then I thought, “Nah, that would make me hear less of these new songs.”

So, enough of the backstory. Now for the review from the guy that has no idea what he’s talking about.

According to Wikipedia, Jukebox the Ghost is an indie pop/rock band from the most recent decade. It’s a piano-centric band with clear and energetic vocals. In brief, I would say they are a new-age Billy Joel, if he was trying to be Queen at the same time. Maybe the other way around, as the case may be in some songs. On the JtG Pandora station at my work, it also plays lots of Mika (whom I have never heard of and still have no interest in), Death Cab for Cutie (whom I can enjoy), and some late 90’s to 00’s alternative classics (which I am also fond of). This also proves that Spotify is a better radio—I don’t have to listen to stuff I don’t want to, I can just listen to Jukebox.

The weirdest thing that happened with my exposure to this band was that I only liked about three songs when I started listening to them, and as soon as I was apathetic enough to leave others on, I started liking them, too. Now I really like basically all of their stuff, save for a few strange exceptions. I don’t like any of their slow, quiet stuff, because as far as Mood-congruence theory goes, it’s off-putting. I don’t want to feel happy listening to energetic songs and then suddenly have a slow, quiet piano for three or four minutes. I’m sure I’d enjoy those songs in a different mood, but that mood would basically require me not to be listening to that band. (It’s worth noting that they have a Solo Piano version of a lot of their songs, and I hate all of these versions for the same reason.)

They’re a good band. They might have even hit my Top 3 Favorites already. They still have weird things that I don’t like (in a few of their songs, they have Buddy Holly-esque ‘hiccups’ I don’t care for), but overall they know what they’re doing. I don’t have a favorite song exactly, but “Adulthood” is a strong contender.

Me — Temporal Issues

I’ve been dealing with a number of personal problems lately, each on a different level of magnitude. I won’t talk about the specifics of any of them here, but I will say that they are all, in their own sense, simply temporal.

I’m a problem solver by nature. I think about everything going on in my life so often that organizing and recalibrating everything is, in a lot of ways, who I am. So when I have problems, there is a reason—and that reason is probably because it isn’t within my power to fix. I’ve thought about every feasible solution, and have either tried it or otherwise deemed why it should fail.

That said, I’d say I’m pretty good at finding solutions to the day-to-day things that bother me. Lately, though, the things I’ve been dealing with are all things that just need time. For example, I’d like to move out of Southern California, but that just isn’t in the cards for me right now. I’d like to find my spark of inspiration so I can start writing cool stuff again, but I can’t simply manifest it, I have to wait for it to come back. Things like this.

I won’t lie. It is pretty frustrating to have issues that are not within, well, anyone’s power to fix. Sure, I suppose it’s possible that I’ve misdiagnosed the roots of my issues and I could find ways around them that I haven’t discovered, and I certainly don’t claim to know everything about my life situation or my psyche, but as I perceive things to be now, a lot of the problems I’m currently having in life will simply go away given time. (Of course, by that time I expect new problems will arise, but that’s a separate issue.)

Having spoken to a friend about this recently, he gave me very encouraging words in that he noted how positively I talk about my problems. I mean, blog posts like this are basically exactly how I talk in real life (which is why it’s so easy for me to churn posts like this out), so when he said that he could tell how upset I was based on my phrasing and general language use, but still noticed I was optimistic, I really felt good about that. It made me realize just how much it takes for me to get taken down to a level where I would be considered sad or angry. So good job, me.

One thing that I’ve noticed as well is that things are always way easier to deal with when you’re too busy to even think about it. Working full time has helped with that a lot, because I noticed that when the weekend hits, I get very tired and down simply because I’m (sort of) alone with my thoughts. Somehow, I can enjoy myself more coming home after work on a weeknight than I can having two full days to myself.

So while I am honestly doing okay, things bother me just like every other normal human person on the planet. I wish they didn’t, but if I’m right, this too shall pass.

Prompt — The Fallen Crown

This wasn’t happening. It had to be a dream. A horrible, cursed dream.

“Your Highness, time is of the essence. They’ve already breached the walls.”

I turned away from the window back to my three Shieldsworn, all bearing the full plate so rarely worn in their line of work, each one bearing a full tower shield. I couldn’t understand how they bore all that weight in addition to the heavy silence in the room, which was as much as I could bear.

“I have no wish to be elsewhere when the Citadel falls,” I muttered, glancing back out to see the sea of invaders crashing against the wall below.

“You will be of no use to your people dead, Highness,” Berun urged. “Commander Arturas has already pledged himself to the safety of this city. He will fall in your place. Do not let his sacrifice be in vain.”

I nodded, scratching my beard as idle thoughts passed through my head. He was right, but he spoke as if he encouraged a peer, not as he begged his king. They all spoke like that. Even Arturas, noble as he was. “Very well, let us be off. If the savages want the Citadel so badly they can have it. I can rule my people elsewhere for the time being, and once our army returns we can take back the city with ease.”

And so we glided down the endless flight of stairs that served as an escape route of the Cloudreach Citadel. It probably hadn’t seen any use in centuries, as the dust in the air was so thick I could taste it. Berun stormed down the stairs ahead, his torch painting the old stones in a dark orange as we passed. Did they have to build these stairs so steep? One misstep could send you tumbling down for an hour.

“These barbarians,” I said, breaking the silence. “Arturas mentioned that they are invading from the west?”

“Yes, Highness. And hardier than most soldiers. They are as fearless as they are innumerable. It as a terrifying combination to face.”

We spent the rest of the flight in the dark halls in silence. Through the stonework I could hear the distant cries of my beloved city falling to pieces. I could hear how close we were to the ground based on how far away the clamor was.

“Stay close to us, Highness,” Berun said once we found the door. “It is unlikely that they will recognize you, but if you hold fast to our sides we can protect you. And, with all due respect, your Highness, you should remove your crown.”

I bit my lip. It would make me a target. I took it off and glared at it as it gleamed in the fire light. No time for disagreements now. My Shieldsworn were in their element here, and it would be foolish not to follow their lead. I stowed it in the pack to my side.

Berun snuffed his torch, leaving it on the ground and shoving the door open. We emerged into a throng of chaos—what few guards were stationed here in the city held off the numerous invaders. Even outnumbered, they held the savages back with ease, cutting down foe after foe. They were endless, however, and well trained as they were, my men were losing ground.

“This way,” Berun gestured. I followed close behind.

The chaos was loud. Steel slammed against steel. Men shouted as they barked orders, or cried as they were cut down. Horns blared, and flaming missiles soared through the sky as they bombarded the already crumbling wall.

“I know not what follows this day,” I muttered. “But I pray my people can endure these dark times.”

“Down with the King!” somebody shouted. “Down with Erharad!”

The sound of glass breaking accompanied these cries. I couldn’t place the origin, but it seemed to be coming from the invading soldiers. I watched as a guard cut down a couple armed only with farming sickles. They didn’t even wear proper armor.

“Your Highness, keep up if you please,” Berun pressed, half turned as he watched both me and the path ahead.

I lingered for a moment, watching as the horde of enemies crashed into the front line. We were losing ground, but it was from the sheer mass, not because the enemy had any training. It was like we were being invaded by…

“Peasants,” I murmured.

“Highness!” one of the other Shieldsworn shouted, shoving me to the ground as she moved herself in between me and something—or someone—I hadn’t noticed. The unexpected toss took more wind out of me than I would have guessed, and it took me a moment to get my bearings once more. As I made to get up, I noticed that my crown had been cast aside, apparently not as safe and secure as I thought. It now bore a dent on the side, but whether it was new or simply unnoticed I couldn’t say. Instinctively, I put it on as I stood to my feet.

And watched in horror as my assailant—a young woman wielding no more than a small dagger, was kicked and beaten by two of my three fully armored Shieldsworn.

“What is the meaning of this?” I scolded, pushing aside my escorts. They stopped with some hesitation. Evidently they deemed her no threat at this point, a broken and bloody mess as she was.

“Whatever could you mean, Highness? She clearly meant you harm. This is a battle,” the Shieldsworn that had thrown me aside said. She scanned the perimeter as she did, not the least bit concerned.

“Speaking of,” Berun chimed in, “We should be going. And, uh, Highness, your crown.”

I ignored him. Instead, I turned to face my attacker, who was lying in pain as she stared up at the burning sky. “Where do you come from?”

After a moment, her eyes focused on me, which seemed a great deal of effort on her part. “Easthaven,” she coughed.

“Easthaven? That’s no more than twenty miles from here.” Arturas had told me they were barbarians from the west. “Why are you here? What is your purpose in coming?”

“Down with… the King…” she spat up at me, but she didn’t have the strength or energy, so a trickle of blood spilled out of her mouth as she lost consciousness.

I turned to Berun. “Why are my own people invading my city?”

“She could just be lying, sir. It could simply be the nearest town they’ve ransacked. Now, please, your crown. You need to put it away and we must flee before—”

CITIZENS OF CLOUDREACH!” a voice boomed from above. The clamor lessened slightly as the Shieldsworn and I looked up.

To see the form of Commander Arturas standing on the lower balcony of the Cloudreach Citadel.

OUR CAMPAIGN WAS A SUCCESS. KING ERHARAD HAS FALLEN, AND WE HAVE COMPLETED OUR QUEST OF OVERTHROWING A CORRUPT AND SELF-SERVING KINGDOM. I, ARTURAS, HAVE SEEN TO HIS BITTER END MYSELF. LET THIS BLOODSHED END AS WE BUILD A NEW FUTURE FOR OURSELVES AND OUR FAMILIES.

I faced back to my Shieldsworn, who turned to me in kind.

“Let’s go, Your Highness,” Berun said, with less urgency but more expectation that I would obey.

Arturas kept shouting as the first signs of the ending strife showed. He spoke of new beginnings and the restoration of virtues.

I removed my crown and thumbed the new dent, following my three Shieldsworn as we made to flee the city. But a question buried itself in my mind.

Wouldn’t killing me have been easier than all this?

Prompt: https://waqasmallick.deviantart.com/art/Wall-Break-730174861

Me — Quick Maths

I love stats and data, as you probably know by now, but I’m starting to realize just how intrinsic it’s become to my personality. I do quick math in my head just as idle thoughts.

And before you think that I’m saying this to sound smart, it really is very simple, stupid math. Yesterday my work just got an order of a bunch of postcards, and I had to transport them. So in the few minutes it took me to do that, I did the math: 17 boxes, each box has 5 stacks of 100 postcards each. 8500 postcards. Sometimes I’ll do the math differently just to see which way is fastest. Disregarding the 100 because it’s just adding zeroes, is it faster to multiply 10×5 and 7×5 and add them together? What about multiplying 3 stacks of 5 by five, with 2 remainder? (In other words, 3x[5×5] + 2×5).

My production manager has started asking me “What’s A times B?” and I’ll do the math real quick while I’m doing whatever.

The weird thing is that I don’t consider myself to like math. The class I hated the most in high school was physics, because I would plug in all the numbers into the equations and I would still get the wrong answer. It’s worth pointing out that I didn’t have the best teacher, but nonetheless. I also probably would have hated calculus even more, but I never took it.

The trouble with higher maths, for me at least, is that it becomes too abstract too quickly, and the visualizations and the datas start to turn into meaningless numbers. I don’t like doing pointless things, so if I don’t know what foiling polynomials does, what am I really learning?

I think math is at its best when it helps you better understand things that you couldn’t have figured out with standard observations. I can know that most established authors are far older than I am, but I can’t appreciate that until I gather data on all my favorite writers and calculate the average age of when they were first published (32.9 years old, by the way). And that math is easy! You just add up all the numbers and divide by how many numbers there were! Now I can do something with that information—like breathe, because by that standard I’ve got quite some time to figure myself out and get published.

I’m always confused when people don’t share my love for data. It’s just cool to see and understand the world better through objective means, how can you not appreciate that? As somebody whose entire goal in life hinges on my capacity to know and understand, data gives a very simple and tangible way of doing so.

A post hit my Reddit feed (from r/dataisbeautiful, as it were) of somebody’s heart rate as their significant other left the country. They calculated what moments correlated with which spikes, and as I’m looking at it I’m nodding my head, thinking yeah, I totally understand that feeling of seeing somebody for the last time. That rush of “Oh, no”, is your heartrate spiking to an intense degree, so just reading this and comparing it to the rest of the graph is really interesting to me.

How can anyone not love data?

Going to Portland, Oregon (Part Two)

I talked about my general experience of my few days in Portland this past Saturday. I didn’t give any specifics, though, so here’s my travel log!

Friday:

Okay, well, the plane landed around midnight, so mostly the four of us hung out with each other before going to bed. Not much to say there.

Saturday:

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The entire city is just built around crazy architecture like this. It astounds me that this is just normal.

The first thing we did the next morning was go see the Saturday Market, which is right next to the Columbia River. There’s all manner of shops for handmade rings and pendants, dyed shirts, various mediums of art, and of course, food. I was pretty impressed by a couple of street performers, though. Their whole shtick was hyping up somebody jumping over random audience members, but they were funny and charming while they did it. It reminded me a lot of the shows you can see at some of the Renaissance Faires I’ve been to. What astonished me most was that they didn’t ask for volunteers, they just pointed at people and pulled them out of the audience and into the performing area. I found that very interesting.

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At the Market I found one shop of this guy that does amazing art. His name is J. Slattum, I recommend you go check it out. I had a hard time picking which painting to buy. I decided to go with the one that initially caught my eye.

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All three of us surreptitiously took a picture of the other two in this spot, which I think is really funny.

The Saturday Market also has an amazing view of the Columbia River as it looks out into the other side of the city. I’d say the picture below does a good job in describing how I feel about Portland. It’s just a wide, green, flat, and much less dense San Fransisco. As a result, absolutely gorgeous.

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Even the normal train offers amazing views. You can see Mt. Hood in the distance here!

We went swimming in Lake Oswego afterwards. None of us had been swimming in a long time, and it was freezing, but we all immediately decided to swim to a buoy and back as practice. Well, the agreed upon buoy was about 200 feet away, and against the

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We were at a public park (that, unbeknownst to us, was closed at the time) in the middle of a bunch of way too expensive houses.

current. I’m not a strong swimmer, and my costochondritis meant that the cold affected my ability to breathe more than it would most, so I’ll admit I did get scared on the way back. I was so tired I could barely swim, and I never learned how to float on one’s back. I considered asking for help, but they probably weren’t much better off. I didn’t go back in the water after that, my legs ached so bad.

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Pretty sure this is a bald eagle, which I have never seen before. It hung out with us all day. Super neat, and even from this distance it was clearly so much bigger than the average crow.

After the lake, I was really tired. Both of the friends I was with are very extroverted people. They cannot get enough of sightseeing and talking and being social. We planned on going to a bar where a friend’s band was playing, to which I requested to stay home at the apartment. Upon my insistence, they left me alone and I got some writing in, as well as some much needed rest. I have never experienced anything like this trip before. Being so far away from any family and not having any time to recharge hit me harder than I expected, and for the first two days of the trip I was emotionally drained.

Sunday:

Sunday morning I was excited because that was the anticipated hike day. As much as I love going on walks and hiking, I don’t do it in Southern California because if I go outside I’ll start melting (and yes, before you comment, I have been to Arizona, and yes, I do hate it). I was excited about this hike because it would be going through national forest, and it was up near Pittock Mansion, too. Incredible nature scenery and majestic architecture? Yes, please. (As a side note, it didn’t rain at all while we were there. I’m both slightly disappointed, because I love the rain, and also relieved, because it would have made sightseeing a lot harder.)

As you can imagine, I took a ton of pictures here. I won’t talk about them, I’ll just leave them here for your viewing pleasure.

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Apparently a famous sign, but I’d honestly never heard of it.

After the hike, we went into downtown to explore. We mostly walked around and did some sightseeing, from going to Killer Burger, to walking by some landmarks, to going into Powell’s (a 5-story bookstore of which I took zero pictures), to getting donuts at Voodoo Donuts.

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I’d imagine that Portland is a great place to film a great many types of things, from fantasy to noir to everyday sitcoms. At least, it would be a great place if there weren’t always so many people walking around all the time.

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Even the car ride home in the middle of the night was beautiful.

Monday:

IMG_20180604_084402637 (Monday Bricks)

Monday morning I had a breakfast date with my grandpa, because he lives in the area and I don’t get to see him very often. (And, to be honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a genuine one-on-one conversation with him.) Getting up as early as I had to was about as difficult as I expected it to be, but the quiet atmosphere and a good chat was nice. Some familiarity in such a foreign world was a treasure to have.

On Monday and Tuesday our two “native” (they’ve only been here a little while) friends had work, so it was up to me and my travel buddy to find places to see and explore. It didn’t occur to me until Monday that everything in Portland can get away with being made of bricks, because there’s no fault line right under it. I know it’s probably stupid to you, but I thought it was interesting that everything is made of bricks here.

IMG_20180604_132858423 (Monday Park)

Monday was mostly walking around the city, because we honestly didn’t have much of a plan of where to go. We walked through a park multiple blocks long, right in the middle of downtown, which was cool.

At some point we visited Pioneer Square (in the day this time), and we grabbed some brochures of interesting places to visit for tomorrow.

After that, we went through some suburbs. I think some of the best pictures of the trip came from there. I would kill to live in a place that looked like that.

IMG_20180604_153721836 (Monday Books)

On this walk, attached to the gate in front of somebody’s house, was a little box with some books inside. It was one of those “leave one, take one” situations, and I found it fascinating. Inside it was a copy of the first book of the Mistborn series, which made me really sad because as much as I wanted it, I had no book to trade. My travel buddy convinced me it would be okay to take it, just for the story of how I got it.

I thank her immensely for the permission to do that. I would have left it and regretted it if she hadn’t been there.

IMG_20180604_154611104 (Monday Lamps)

We came across an old thrift store of lamps & furniture called “Lounge Lizard”. Awesome place, and it reminded me of the singing improv game of the same name. She had never played it, so I showed it to her on the way back home. As much as I don’t like singing in the presence of others, I rather enjoyed it.

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We headed back into town to have a late lunch at the Old Town Pizza Company, which was a restaurant that was repurposed from an old hotel. Apparently, the booth where you order food is the same concession stand from the original establishment in 1880, which is insane. I didn’t take any pictures of this place, because it was super dark, so enjoy this picture stolen off the internet. We actually almost sat in this booth, but decided to eat upstairs because… well, upstairs.

At about that time our friends were getting off work, so we headed back home, then went back into town to get ramen before playing a drinking game to Disney’s Hercules. It was a great conclusion to an awesome day.

Tuesday:

Tuesday was very similar to Monday, except this time we had a plan for places we wanted to visit. I’m sorry to say I didn’t take many pictures of Tuesday because I was a bit jaded,

We headed into town, ate fries in a park while listening to live violins, then went into the city proper.

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We stumbled across the Church of Scientology, which was… interesting. My friend convinced me to go in and check it out, and boy. They showed us a machine that could “read your thoughts”, which really just detected the presence of electrical signals when you think. The fact that the lady advertised it as borderline magic was insane to me.

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“Psychiatric drugs: Take one!”

After that, we went back to Powell’s, because it was on the way to a place called the Cookie Dough Cafe. Imagine an ice cream shop like Baskin Robbins, only they have vats of raw cookie dough instead of ice cream. (Okay, they also had ice cream, but mostly it was cookie dough.)

It was so thick, that a $3 single scoop of cookie dough was almost too much for me to finish, even though I had eaten very little that day.

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Our last stop for the trip was a brewery called Steven Smith Teamaker. I didn’t know what to expect, but it was lovely. They had a selection of nearly fifty different kinds of teas, and you could buy a flight to try any four. I did this with the resolution to buy the best one, and while I don’t really like green teas, I was surprised when it turned out to be my favorite.

Tuesday Tea

Portland was magical. I learned a lot about the world and myself, and made lots of memories I’ll cherish forever. The day I got back I was hit with a severe… homesickness? I’m sure lots of people are familiar with that feeling, but I had never felt that before. I’m glad that emotion didn’t persist, because it made the following Wednesday and Thursday pretty hard.

Me — Am I a Writer?

I’ve been writing since I was 12 years old. Admittedly, not that long, compared to most people, but that’s… oh gosh, that’s almost half my life at this point. Point is I’ve always loved medieval fantasy and the games and stories that surround that genre. From high school onward I was uncommon in the fact that I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

A lot of people go through college and change majors and just struggle with their own identity until they’re in their late 20’s and suddenly discover who they are. I feel like I’m sort of the opposite in that I used to have such a solid idea of who I was until very recently.

I haven’t gotten excited about any new story in months. Actually, the first revamped Lisa Stenton short was the last thing I could hype myself up for before I wrote, and that was January. Everything after that was written because I required it of myself, and I don’t know if you can feel that while you read it, but I can remember feeling it in my heart just by reading the title to those stories.

It’s not that I’m having a panic attack, or any dramatic crisis or anything, just that I’ve… lost interest. I’m working full time, and when I get home I don’t want to write of all things, I just want to relax and play video games with my brothers/friends.

One thing I’ve noticed about this is that it can be very difficult to judge the line between discipline and overworking oneself. I think that for me, that line was crossed these past few months as soon as writing became a chore. It seems ridiculous to write stories and expect people to enjoy them when I forced myself to create them in the first place. And yet, I’m hyperproductive, so requiring one flash fiction piece a week doesn’t seem too bad, and hey, even if I’m forcing myself to write them, nobody’s forcing you to read them. I just don’t like the idea of twiddling my thumbs for months having nothing to show for the passage of time.

I’ve been told I need to branch out more, like take up drawing or pottery or something. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but honestly that doesn’t sit well with me. Even if I could, theoretically, pursue my passion of medieval fantasy through writing, I know that drawing isn’t the way my life is going to go.

I can take solace in the fact that I’m content in my current emotional state. I want to move out of SoCal, and I still have other personal troubles, but things are fine. I think I’m mostly satisfied in the fact that I’m always busy with school, work, and other commitments, so any time to myself I do have playing video games is earned, not wasted.

If I were to make a prediction as to what the near future of my life looks like, I would say that I’ll somehow find that spark of writing again, whether it be months from now or years. Hopefully I won’t live here anymore, but I hope to have a steady job (like the one I have now) and am enjoying writing on the side in an apartment or something in Oregon or Washington.

The future. Hindsight. You know, whatever. The questions I’m struggling with are basically just problems for future me, so it’s not a big deal.