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paulwalltran · 2 years

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Late Night Reflections

1) Who Are You?

Truth is, I'm not entirely sure. I am many things, alot of things, I am simple and complex at the same time. At times I am me honestly, and at times I don a mask. I am who I am around most people, to the general populace I am different. I way I carry myself is a form of adaptation, I try to be flexible and easy going, preferring to go with the flow. I've learned to let go but struggle when I am not in control. There are many aspects of me, concepts of me, and the real me, I honestly have chosen not to define. I dont want to be a liar, to announce and label myself as something I am not all the time. I am a massive blob of gray, with few black and white parts. Im still figuring it out, who i am at heart.

2) Who Do You Want to Be?

I want everything, i want it all. Even if I broke down the traits, I want to max all scores. But, in all honesty, I do value one trait above all. I want to be Charismatic, a force of personality that holds a kind of sway on everyone. A presence that is undeniable, someone who doesn't just blend in the back. I used to act like I didn't care for the attention, but I was lying, dying to be the one in the limelight. To be charming, attractive, alluring, a magnetic force. To be part of the popular circle of people for once. To be the kind of person everyone wants to have happy memories with. The kind of person who people always want to be around, hanging out and snapping pics. To be adored by the masses, to be cherished and loved by all. To have a kind of confidence that sheds light throughout the dark. To be a blinding ray, to carry myself with incredible pride. To be so comfortable with myself that the demons inside would be exorcize. I dont need to be loud, flamboyant, gaudy, or extra, that's not what I mean. But to be mister GQ, the man of the year, mister perfect.

3) What are you doing about it?

What can I do about it? I've long outgrown the fake it til you make it bullshit. As someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, my expression and my eyes cannot deny what I feel. Its natural, it's reaction, its second hand nature for me to display what is real. I am who I am in that moment of time during that event in that circumstance, its rare I am able to hide anything, as the body betray my words. So it's a question within a question, "How do I become confident in myself?" My self esteem, my doubts, how do I lift these burdens off of me? Sinking low and deeper into the hole, into the depths of the abyss. In darkness I find myself, wondering how can I ever become this person I aspire to be? Is Charisma something you can truly create? Or is it something that can be obtained artificially? Are these affirmations true wonders? It sounds like snake oil to me. Or is it that I am beyond salvation because the demons inside of me. The ones that have haunted me for years, their whisperings forging a lesser version of myself. I can blame alot of things, and someone out there will say it is truly the fault of myself. That I can be who I want to be if only I unleashed my mind. That has long been damaged, I personally don't think I am capable of this feat on my own, and I would need probably some therapy or counseling. We will see one day, I think self help books can only go so far. I dont know, maybe I'll Google something about it, and see what I can find. Itll be an effort at least...

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paulwalltran · 3 years

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Pride and Ego

Pride: Its a word I don’t use often, but I know it is in me. I would like to think I am the opposite of honestly. To view it as one of the lesser deadly sins I am prone to commit, and yet it is loud and clear that I am a repeat offender. How do I know this? Because it still goes hand in hand, with the others. I can be spiteful, sounds like wrath and pride. I can be jealous and entitled, envy and pride. I can be lazy and sympathetic to myself, sloth and pride. I can desire, crave, yearn, for more and justify, greed and pride.

(Lust, I need to conduct more research, for it has to be more than just a ravenous appetite and consumption of the body in carnal behavior. Gluttony, I just eat alot in general, I believe this one to be without pride. If anything Gluttony is done with greed, just wanting and consuming more than necessary.)

Lately, I have been isolating myself, I am rarely reaching out. I struggle in silence, hoping to be better when I emerge from the depths of this dreadful house. Not the physical one I am residing in, but the one I dwell inside my mind. Here I remain, safe from the elements out there, but empty inside. Its a bit dusty in here, gloomy least to say. The lights dim, plenty shades of black and gray. I trap myself, even though the locks remain unturned. Alone in this shack, amidst a fog deep within the woods. Pure silence, it seems time has frozen in place. However, this place, shows sign of wear and age. Signs of shoddy repairs, temporary fixes. A large book on a desk, with faded pages. Some readable, others intangible, some ripped out and shredded possibly due to rage. Many entries incomplete, and an unknown amount remaining blank. Currently, a partially filled inkwell, though it shows that some remains have dried, signs it may have been refilled a few times. A lone simple chair, by a simple table with this tome. Ah yes, I know this place, it is a place of refuge. A place to rest my head, and ease my mind. A place for me to write, to sort out the chaos inside.

Pride, it is what’s holding me back from reaching out, I refuse to be a burden on someone else, I refuse to give in and feel weak. I am weak, but the very least I can be weak on my own, and obtain my own victory. I can be a team player, but for my own personal quests I must do it solo. For my story arc development, I can’t rely on other people. If I achieve a win with aid, it will be shared EXP. Portion and percentage split is both irrelevant and relevant, because it matters not how much they get, what matters is that its not all coming to me! How can I expect to grow, become a stronger version of myself if I did not overcome on my own? How can I find pride in accomplishing if not for the sacrifice of my own blood, flesh, and bone? How can I face myself, knowing I had to count on others to help me push past and breakthrough? How can I be so sure of myself, if I always had help from the party que? Pride, in this moment its all about me, I am the main protagonist of this story. Pride, it has to be done by my mind and hands, for me to achieve full glory. Pride, teammates are available, but they would diminish the value of a win. Pride, it could be most foolish having not played it safe with friends, and be met with a “Game Over” screen in the end.

But ah yes, friends, do they not have their own story arc too? Do they not have their own journey to partake in, versus taking care of you? They too have their ordeals and trials, and it seems they have moved on from needing your aid. Kind of feels like they’re beyond your level, there is a power gap in this game...

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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Today, my emotions are trying to eat me alive.

Today, tonight, I stare at this can. Its an energy drink, its sugar, and its contributing to making me fat. Maybe that's part of why I'm down today, I stepped on the scale and saw i gained weight. Back to 270. Thats how my day started, by unfortunate news, and now I'm trying to fend off the negativity that's trying to consume me. I need aid, but I dont want the addiction. I dont want an aid that I would become too reliant. I dont want this can to be something I can't be without, something I need to function. Its tempting me, and I am weak to fight it. I struggle as I type out this post. Im having trouble finding the strength in me to hold myself own. If I relapse today, can I bounce back another day? Is it okay to succumb in this moment? Or is this the moment that will define me? Make or break, what will it be? I believe today, I will be broken, and will need some mending. I am weak.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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What changed?

(Side note, I'm actually getting lazy thinking about this but if I don't start now, there's no telling if ill start again. Slightly important.)

All those social interactions, all those relationships/friendships, they're not the same. Facebook flash backs got me wondering, "What changed?" Who was I then that I am not now? Why don't I ever get those anymore, why do I feel less important now? You take it for granted, whenever you're young. And nowadays, I feel, like I'm no one. (How unfortunate for you sir, how you still seek validation from the mass population. Pity...) No one misses me anymore, at least no one ever tells. No text, no post, almost no acknowledgement. Is it shame? Is it uncool? Or am I just bad? Blending with the background, makes me sad.

All these people who once loathed my absence, and wished for my presence, a concept no more. All these people that I have not forgotten whom I once adored. Not that I dont now, but we have indeed grown apart. But I thought absence fostered fondness in the heart. Unfortunately not the case, and i have not become accustomed nor comfortable being on my own. Tolerable to a certain degree, but its no place to call home.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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A wish for a fantasy.

A wish for adventurers who take up a journey often enough that the story still resounds in their mind. Where the tracks still feel fresh after the pause in time. Where actions have consequences, good or bad, and the world evolves and forms to show effect. A story upon which actions are taken, develops to reflect. Yes, all too much too ask in this time, perhaps in the future we will see. I wish to see my heart and soul, played out by great company. Those who wish to partake without fail, those who push forth with trust in their hearts. I will guide you through as you perform your heroics through the perils. You will struggle with difficulty and confusion, obstacles that hinder your way. But you all are world forgers, destined for greatness, even in death. For even in defeat, the story does not stop. For even a loss, it does not hold back the sands in the glass, the hands of a clock. Onward heroes, the tale continues until evil is relinquished, for a time at least. In-between, there will be tomfoolery, jokes, celebrations and feasts. Even plotting, scheming, double crossing, back stabbing and deceit. Alot will happen, but the most important part, is that while we play, we make memories.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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A Lack of Desire

I dont know when it started, or from where it stems. What I do know, is that I don’t have a desire for much of anything. Perhaps I need to rephrase, as the statement is much too broad. I don’t have a desire to go on, and get out, and perhaps do better.

I was asked many times before, what are your dreams? What would make you happy? What would make life worth living?

Conceptually, happiness, as cliche as it may seem. If I am happy, perhaps I can also have peace. If I am a peace, I would no longer desire the emptiness or hollow. No longer would I need to seek anything out, I am content with all that I have and all to follow. Peace and happiness, a state that seems unlikely to achieve. Since it seems that greed usually follows those who are like gluttons, as we were taught to always be hungry. Never be satisfied, always want more. Never settle, always go for the highest score.

And here I am, settling. I’ve always said I been at a standstill, with no idea in which direction to advance. I make no progress, and in order to take cautious and preventive measures, I need to make plans, so I make camp. At the crossroads with no idea what lies ahead, I try to imagine what dangers may lurk in the distance over in the yonder. Paralysis through Analysis, indecision. I can’t make a choice, I cant commit. I cant jump in, taking risks, taking chances. Less I wish to be hurt, and then I would end up in a different world with a new struggle to add. Then I would end up hating myself for even thinking I was up to the task. Then there it is, it reveals itself, a form of flaw that stems from a desire for perfection. Deeply ingrained into me, what I seek tends to be unrealistic. Perhaps not necessarily the outcome, perhaps more the process really. I want to be prepared, because I know it won’t be easy. But also because I don’t trust myself to be able to deal with the task at hand on the fly. I usually am a go with the flow kind of guy, but going with the easy currents, not trying to fight against tides.

Where do I want to be? Where I excel, where my talents would reveal themselves and be of use. I don’t even know my talents, they’re relatively subpar in my view. I’m okay, mediocre, decent at best. How to I contend against superior skilled contestants in the same contest? How would I stand out among them all? What would separate me from the crowd? Questions that begin to fill my head, leaving me with doubt. I doubt I am that good, I doubt I can rise up to the occasion and become great. Once again I stop, pursuing what seems least likely.

So, here we are. With a fear of wandering into the unknown, with a fear of self. A fear of what’s to come, or what’s not there. In this tent, an endless cycle of planning and doubting, leading to exhaustion and fatigue. I don’t know anything else, so I just wish to be. There’s no real rush to leave this camp site, is there? It’s been a quiet place so far. It does get lonely out here, it’s only me after all. Alone and trapped within my mind, to myself I haven’t been the most kind. Sometimes I scold myself for the things I do or don’t do, depends on the regrets lingering inside. Had I, wished I, if I, could I, the choices made have led us here and left us in fear. In hopes to never regret again, I begin to try and ensure a sure outcome, at least a favorable percentage. But, once again, its all very exhausting, the circles I keep running around. And then, I don’t have the motivation to get up and go, and the desire is gone. Here I am, I believe myself to be camping at my own leisure. Illusion of the mind, truly I am trapped, and held prisoner. I believe I can go at any given time, and perhaps one day that statement will be true. The weight and shackles that bind me however, are quite heavy, my burdens.

Perhaps one day, I will aspire to break free, become the one who is unleashed and unchained. Perhaps like a hero. Why a hero? Because a hero can always break out of a tough spot.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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Because if I’m not sad or down, I’m almost...dead.

I’m void of emotions, I’m tired, fatigued, and really, just on auto pilot. I feel hollow, empty, unfulfilled, deprived of “life.” I’m simply existing, I’m just here. My body while here on the material plane, my mind is scattered about in space. Today I don’t feel anything except a lack thereof, as though something is missing. Like I’m not truly alive.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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This is starting to become a safer spot than FaceBook

Not that it should matter. Call it a form of anxiety I suppose. Sometimes I want to post something simple, and then all the scenarios began to rush in my head. "What if someone from the fitness community tells me its bad for me even though I already know?", "What if people shake their head at me saying I should know better?", "What if no one thinks its funny?", and so on and so forth. And what was supposed to be something simple becomes overly worded and overdone as I begin to defend my proposition before I even say anything. Over nothing. Guess its just one of my things.

Because all I wanted to say was...

"Drinking energy drinks, is like borrowing time. You get a boost now, and you pay for it later."

Because I need to borrow my coping energy from later for now. Leading to a possibly more agitated and tired version of me in the future.

Also noting. It's been sometime since I got burned out and been to the gym, breaking my habit. Mood has spiraled down even though it didn't drastically improve when I was working out. Energy is at an all time low, and the body is eh. It seems it will be time soon to re-enter the Iron House to rebuild myself once again. Thinking about it now seems relatively exhausting already when it usually doesn't, but just imagining the amount of energy I will have to exert at the gym for my usual. We will see in due time, for now, I just have to get through work today.

My points are sky rocketing, my sleeping is jacked up. Things for this year is still going wry, and not much is going right, unless I'm taking things once again for granted.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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It Wouldn’t be Fair...

If I didn’t post when I’m in a good mood. Or if my mood improved. After all, this is all about things I don’t talk about. Or get a chance to. I would be playing video games right about now, but I should put some words down first.

It was August 5, I was promised a game of D&D, good ol Dungeons and Dragons. But, I had low expectations, as I saw people bailing out. One guy had family/significant other stuff going on, one was out of state, and one simply bailed because he felt it would be “too” much DnD, his words were along the lines of “that would make three days in a row.” Like seriously...what? No such thing, for at least me, but whatever, fuck him. Haha. Anyway...

So I get a text, a question about how I would want the game done. Would I want to run it? What would I want to play? I have been running games for a long as time, and very few times when others ran a game was I truly happy. But the guy who invited me took up the mantle, so I got to play that night, although I had my concerns how things would turn out. As a back up plan, I brought a bottle of alcohol so I could just drink if I decided to cry two tears in a bucket (aka Fuck it.) Little did I know that the night would turn out great.

So an unexpected face join in on the game, and it took awhile to get the ball rolling, but when it did, I was on my toes and the edge of my seat. Thrown in for a loop, the Dungeon Master for the night threw a massive curve ball, unlike anything I seen before. We were warped into a golden sphere and there we had multiple rooms, or dimensions, to navigate through. It was primarily puzzles, figuring what was what and how to move on and out. There was like two combat encounters, and the game spanned for roughly six hours. But it was great. It was after the game that it was revealed that this sphere was even more savage than we had imagined. Knowing how close we could’ve been to imminent death, how close we tangoed on the line of life, but still managed to make it out alive, it felt good. He threw out enough hints, and we came to accept our fate, whatever it had become, but we made it out in one piece with new gear, and an additional level. Anyone else who wasnt there didnt get squat. To me, that felt great, because I’m always down for a game, and it reminded me of the local games at the shop. If you showed up, you get loot and experience. If you don’t you get squat.

To this day, I hold onto a character I played for about a year and a half at a shop, who has absolutely INSANE stats and feats. He went through so much, experienced a whole bunch, and although he died (which to me is still debatable about how that went about) his stat sheet remains with me. All I accumulated, compared to someone else who joined mid way, was far greater and superior because I kept showing up. But, lets save that story for another day.

In the end, after a long game, after a nice long escape, I sat down to just chat about the other hobby the dungeon master had. And it felt good to worry about something else other than my life. I was living as a typically young dwarf who had ambitions and plans to be even greater, or at least get back to being great compared to his current state of affairs, and I got to learn a little about the new shit going on in the other hobby of card games.

Was it the social interaction? Was it the game itself? Was it both? Its debatable, but I felt great afterwards. I felt new, refreshed. All I knew was, I was begging for more. My desire and appetite, it was satiated for the time being, and ignited the fire in my heart that had long been extinguished. Everyone has their outlet, their hobby, their needs. This one just so happened to be mine, and I truly love it with all my heart. The amount of excitement I get when its a topic being spoken of, its unreal, like being a child. But I had felt so good I had to tell my significant other and friend that I was happy i FINALLY got to play. Yeah, it pulled me out of my dark place. Now that being said, bad dnd may not be better than dnd, because I was in the impression it wasn’t going to be great DnD with just two people playing and a DM. Although...maybe I should have known, since I’ve done that before. I’ve ran a game for just two, and they enjoyed their time too. Still, I was coming out of a dark place, and I feel brought back to life. I was scared, I was frightened, I was embolden, and I felt cool, heroic and stoic, unwavering and show boating. I felt alive again.

So, in other words, this could be one of those double edged swords. Haha. Like an addiction that could make me or break me. Its an obsession that could be healthy, or not. But, perhaps as a friend had told me, it’s time to get out of my comfort zone. I heard a few stories of bad DnD games, and with COVID running about local games are suspended or non existent. But maybe I just need to hop from game to game before I really find a great game group that’ll run on my time. Maybe I need to finally reach out to find an online game that’ll help me learn the ropes. We will indeed see...but I feel better now. DnD Saved my life. It’s funny, but it’s also serious. This is just one of those things that make me feel good that isn’t super expensive or a drug. It’s just a table top game played with imagination.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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I looked out into the horizon, saw quite the scene. Bright blue skies on a sunny day, transitioning to a gray from clouds that were once white. It came my way, signs of rain. Onward I looked, until a stranger came up to me. "Hey there, buddy. You mind if I have a seat?" I was confused, we're out on public property. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Go ahead." But did he not see what I see? The rain was starting now. A light drizzle at first, and then came the lightning and thunder. "Oh man, it's about to start pouring." He said as he pulled out his umbrella. The droplets came down something fierce, I was drenched and soaked before I even knew. A flash of light and then a thunderous roar, boomed from the skies once blue. An unknown black matter came into view, sheltering me from the storm. I turned my head and there he was, holding his umbrella over us. "You didnt come prepared? That's okay, we can share mine. You're going to get sick out here, wouldn't want that." He never looked at me, his gaze was fixed onto the skies just as mine were before. "Thanks, appreciate that." There was a pause, a moment of silence, as the sounds of rain crashed and burst at the bottom. The winds were howling, the trees swaying, echoes of thunder in the distance.

"The thing about storms, they always come to pass. And when they do, we'll see the brighter side at last. No matter how hard it pours, no matter how loud the thunder roars, the Sun will always come back to shine, just as it always has before." I didn't know what to say, I just nod in agreement. As quickly as those words escaped his mouth, I saw the sky split open. A radiant line pierced through the gray and illuminated the darkness about. The grays faded away, and away went the storm clouds. The Sun beamed down, a rainbow in the sky. He folded up his umbrella, allowing me to be engulfed by the light.

"Hey man, just wanted to say," His hand rested upon my shoulder. "There will be better days, so let's get away from this place." I nodded as he gently turned me away from the edge of the cliff.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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Dungeons and Dragons Loneliness

Another interview with lofi music. Today was a pretty shitty day, alot on my mind. Here to unload.

Today’s mood: Fuck it all...

It’s a mad addiction, a horrendous one. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want to talk about. Or almost anything fantasy related. I’ve recently gotten a little closer with one of my co workers. Delerner Banks, everyone calls him Del. He’s always in the tunnel, and always brings warhammer books to read and do work (whatever it is he’s working on.) We talk about fantasy related things all the time, and sometimes we bounce ideas off each other, feeling out our thoughts of settings and lore. Talking to him about some fantasy before leaving work made me feel alot better. The loneliness inside has been eating at me.

I know it’s salt, I know its jealousy, that I’m mad at my friends. They been hanging out more without me, playing cards and shit. Its not a passion of mine, its fun sometimes, but its still not me. Its what they bond over, its what they do together, and that’s what theyre into. If I had to guess, they’re okay with Dungeons and Dragons, but even my best friend said that I take it too serious. Its fallen out of their favor, it eats up a lot of time, and they each have their version of what a fun campaign would be like. In me, I said to myself, “Fine, fuck it. I’ll have to assemble another crew to play with.” Tough situation then isn’t it? Wanting to play a social game that needs bodies, during an age where social gatherings are frowned upon, because they carry a potential to spread a virus... Still, this is what I want to do. I want a group of friends, who share the same passion I do. My current friends must think ill of me, they may just want to hang out. They think that if they come hang with me, I’ll want a game of DnD without a doubt. They just want to chill and kick it, they don’t want to roll dice. But ask me once and I’ll tell you yes twice, to playing DnD.

I love it with all my heart, all of the contents and materials are here, ready to play. No extra investments, no money needed to be spent, we can get going off of nothing like we did back then. A table top roleplaying game, we started with cardboard and lego figures, and just two books to share. But there was fun to be had, and a few heated sessions. But fun it was, the more we played the deeper i grew fond of the game. I’m even willing to experiment with other systems if I have someone to guide me. With cards, you gotta constantly update your arsenal to keep up with the meta, and let’s be real, not playing anything remotely close to meta isn’t as fun. Different formats allow different decks, and to keep current you gotta keep up. I dont have the fundings for it, I dont have the luck. I would rather buy a module that’ll last for years, versus a pack of cards. I have two books that have skyrocketed in value, cards go up and down like stocks. But thats the appeal I suppose, I don’t care for it though.

Back to the thing at hand, I’m in their group chat as they make plans. I can’t be there for all that. But fuck it, that’s all Im going to say. Fuck it, on repeat, until its engraved into my head. Pride is getting the best of me, I refused to be denied again. If it’s not something they want to do, so be it, I need to look out for me in the end. I must muster up the courage to start playing online again, the first one wasn’t bad, but it fell apart. I need to get the courage to be social, and get over the fear that everyone expects you to be a pro player. I’m scared going into this green still, roll20 isn’t my forte. But if I want to play DnD, this seems to be my only option. It may fulfill my wish, to find friends who are just as passionate as I. My other friends, they’re over on the other side. Its fine, it truly is, they have one another, and I need to be strong. I need to find the strength in this loneliness, even though its tearing me apart. My circle becomes smaller, thats just the way of the world. Adapt to survive, be formless like water...

Dungeons and Dragons, my greatest escape. I can be anybody, and do things I normally can’t. I can clobber up bad guys, indecent folk, and finesse my way out of punishment from the law. I can save a village, a town, a kingdom, when I can hardly save myself. I can fly, cast spells, break locks, imagination is my only limit. I can hoard and amass vast amounts of riches, I myself can even become a dragon. I don’t have to be me, although a bit of me resides in everyone I’ve made before. I can never truly separate myself, from those Ive breathed life into. For hours on end, I can go anywhere, do anything, I melt into the world thats placed before me.

Because the reality is that I’m practically shit, and nobody. The world is fucked up and jacked up and spiraling down the drain. I’m mentally fucked and my physicality is pretty much the same. I’m stuck in place when the world is demanding me to change. I lost with no real direction. No map in hand, no guide, and I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t know whether to trust the process or commit suicide. Im not sure where I’ll end up, if it’s good or bad. Im struggling, I’m suffering, and there seems to be no end. I could say I’m trying, but I would be lying, if I had to look at the brighter side. The positive things in life are so hard to identify. But my emotions are raw and hit hard, slamming against the walls in my skull. Demanding me to give them attention...and attention I give them, as they tear me up. Like being pulled at by the limbs, drawn and quartered is the method it seems like today. I was thinking that I couldn’t drink forever, my body would eventually reject. But what if I drank energy drinks on end, a heart attack to get me out of this place. I can down those all day long, so whats stopping me from taking that way out of it? Less grotesque and violent, it’ll probably be painful as hell. An organ seizing up, as the body ceases the function. I get said thinking about it sometimes, but one day, enough will be enough. But damn that lady...damn her for speaking those words... Tomorrow. If nothing is better by tomorrow, then do as you may. But sleep it off, tomorrow is another day.

It’s not verbatim, but its the gist. Just wait for tomorrow, and hopefully things will change. The choice is still mine to make, and something in me pushes me forward, keeps me going on. Sometimes I think about who I’m leaving behind, and maybe how much it’ll hurt. The evil darkness inside me says that they’ll get over it, they have to, and time doesn’t wait. I won’t be immortalized, I’ll simply end up a statistic. That maybe itll be a few years the sadness remains fresh, but wounds always heal. Discrediting my actual existence, and any form of relations. Like I wouldn’t have made any actual impressions, people don’t weep for me now. People kind of forget I exist already, what makes me think they won’t after I’m gone?

I think about my folks, my grandma, my girlfriend, my second family, and other close dear friends. I think about how many last will letters I would have to put out there, before I call for the curtains. Sometimes, I say I will start writing them, but they give me pause. I end up not wanting to leave this world, after pouring out my heart. Because I don’t want to leave any questions behind for people who matter, I want them to know how I felt before I passed. I want to leave with them apart of me, so they would never forget.

Still it doesn’t change, shit is rough as of lately, work has been eating me up. I feel like Im never hundred percent, and me back on gaming is making it worst. I’ve gotten back onto Elder Scrolls Skyrim, its been my virtual version of DnD. Waiting for the Outer World Expansion, so I can get addicted to that again. All I want to do is play Dungeons and Dragons, the question is how do I make that into a living? I think being a Matthew Mercer is one in a million, I don’t think I’m that great. I’m willing to learn, grow, evolve because it is my passion, but I’m always scared of making mistakes. To be one of the greater Dungeon Masters, to be THE Wizards of the Coast Dungeon Master, it may possibly be the dream. To eat, sleep, breathe, Dee en Dee. My obsession isn’t that crazy though, I’m still behind on the lore of creatures and settings, I haven’t studied at all. But with the right drive and motivation, I would, especially with something as real as a legit group.

Enthusiastic players, who show up every week, bi weekly, once every month even, to play this fantastic game. Group of chill folks who is willing to take the Dungeon Master Mantle with I get burned out and have the desire to be in the player seat. One of those is the driving force, they make me want to plan. They make me want to make the world, the style, everything in general better, with the constructive feedback. I mean it’s been so long as I was a player in a campaign until the end, I’m beginning to think paying for a Dungeon Master wouldn’t be so bad. Once a month? A couple of hours? I mean I’m thinking like seven USD per hour? Eight isn’t bad, but after that it becomes a questionable amount. It repeats in my head, “No DnD is better than Bad DnD”, this much is probably still true. I say still because I still might want at least one session with said game, so I can at least say it was the worst after having attempt it, rolling something. Ha ha, I kid myself, I’m lying because I know the rage would be all to real and caution is my game most of the time. But I mean, I just might have to start exploring the idea, I was definitely going to ask on FaceBook if any Roll20 games was recruiting a newbie.

Alas, today won’t be the last time I speak on the matter, Dungeons and Dragons haunt me everyday. I stare at minis, I stare at the upcoming books and modules, and I watch youtube where they tell RPG Horror Stories, Its become a huge part of my life, such as dancing once was. It almost links right into my earliest talents...writing. I love to write, just like I’m doing now. Im fairly decent at the writing game if I must say. Hey, real life failed Bard here, I should make one who always ends up playing big bro, and end up being friendzoned by all his interests. Im short, so Halfling is very true. Am I charismatic? Who knows, I can’t say for sure. But yes, I feel like this is what I need, a solid weekly game, maybe once every two weeks, hell, once every month would still be great. Something to look forward to the very least, in this life of routine and mundane. Something to look forward to for me, something that’s my own. Something I don’t need my closer friends to be apart of, since they’re not interested anyhow. I’m really talking shit because I’m hella salty, but at least I’m being upfront. Get it all out now, before the typing is done.

It’s been a productive session, I may have to attribute it to Lofi it seems. The Lofi Hip Hop Radio on YouTube, also found on Spotify. Some tracks still strike me deep in the chest, giving me horrible flash backs and feeling in my chest. Others keep me going, forward, almost propelling. I’m currently training myself to be accustomed to the sounds, because I at first was very scared. That it would just transport me to a dark place and keep me there. I’ve been trying to confront my feelings more with this music, I think I felt better after last session like this. The more I faced myself, the better I became. Yes, I most definitely referenced Persona 4, another amazing and loved title because of the message it portrays. I always wondered what my shadow self would look like, and what they would say. But eh another time, I’m about to start rambling again. I have to conclude here, before I get off topic.

Until next time Tumblr...

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paulwalltran · 4 years

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Something about Lo-Fi

I discovered it when I was linking up with Jimmy again. We took one of those trips when he put it on, and we went places. Places where we had to go, places we didnt want to go, places for the mind and soul.

And now this genre haunts me.

I read its certain types of lo-fi, that there are other types that deliver a different kind of feel. Still, I think it's the style of the genre as a whole, that sometimes, makes me feel ill. Perhaps I'm weak... I get a feeling in my chest. It doesnt relax me, it makes my head spin. I feel like I'm going to throw up, nauseated.

It's quite different from what I'm used to listening to, and it does make me feel. But I guess where I am today, I'm in a place where I dont necessarily want to feel. I kind of just want to scrape on by, just get on by. Feelings, I feel like I don't have time for. I'm so busy trying to do other things like holding it together, keeping myself composed, keeping myself from falling apart. Not caving into my weaknesses, my faults, my own pettiness.

This music, sometimes it scares me, almost like it forces me to confront myself and all the things I leave lingering. Sometimes it makes me think on my mistakes, which could be good, but at this point in time, not so, since I havent learned to forgive myself. I like to just forget and move on sometimes, time waits for no one I always say. So I just do what I can to put my best foot forward, and face the day.

Is it weird if I say it makes me anxious? Like anxiety has never been an issue for me. But the sounds, fill me at times with an interesting amount of uncertainty. Where am I going? Where will I end up? What will I do? What can I do? All kinds of questions pop into my head, as I gaze into a future that's so bleak. A foggy path before me, crossroads by the dozens, no clear road on this journey. Sometimes it weighs on me heavily, sometimes its fairly light. Being in my own head full of questions, knowing I'm not alright.

It almost makes me realize that like second nature, I say I'm fine, don't worry, I'm okay. But I'm not, as always. Sure, someone else has it worst than you right now. Sure, someone truly has to struggle hard. Still it doesnt change, that I'm deteriorating, coming undone. Always trying to be the strong one, it will build character you see. What doesnt kill you, makes you stronger...but do I have to constantly battle it?

I been thinking about this alot lately, I guess I'll post it here. Anime is keeping me afloat for now, with certain ideals. My Hero Academia, Boku No Hero Academia, it kind of keeps me going on. Typical shonen style stuff, building up to overcome. But it strikes my inner child, since I used to love heroes in every way. Batman, the power rangers, being the hero to save the day. The show is all about becoming a hero through your own philosophies and morals, becoming your best through whatever it is that drives you. Finding your limit, and still going beyond. Go Beyond, Plus Ultra, a mantra I've come to love so very much. Hard to apply in everyday life though. Still, as a character said, heroes can always break out of a tough spot. Its rough, its tough, but yes, ideally, I wish to realize my own version of a hero one day. Strengthening myself, building up myself, as Elliot Hulse would say, becoming the strongest version of yourself. I'm still growing, still learning, still admitting that I'm far from perfect. I guess the only difference is that I have yet to acknowledge that it's fine. As I struggle to try and find the light inside. My fire burns dim, where maybe once when I was young and foolish I was a brighter flame. Reality got to me, and alot has changed. People have come and gone, decisions not so smart were made. Life changing decisions came about, and people have been burned by unjust flames. Fires have ensued, worlds have crumbled, ties severed, links broken, things fell apart. Some by natural means and orders, others by my own accord. Regrets still reside here in me, and sometimes I hate myself so. Hindsight is 20/20, and theres always a lingering wish to go back and have things undone. I am still unsure if I have been forgiven, for being the foolish version of me. Unsure if there is scorn, for the actions I've taken then. Unsure, if anyone bears hatred for who I am and what I've done. It shouldnt matter depending on the subject, but I still dwell on it.

I have the same live playlist that was playing when me and jimmy had that talk, and some got me giving into the darkest parts of me. Others kept me writing, kept me going, keeping my mind spinning. So I suppose its true, its dependent on the beat that evokes a kind of mood. I'm interested now, to keep exploring while listening to these tunes. Perhaps I'll discover more, though if my mind keeps racing I'm unsure if I'll be able to sleep. I dont feel better, theres still a sense of unease. But I have been able to put my thoughts down, despite how scattered they are at the moment. My life, here and now, doesnt seem chaotic. But theres alot of things in me that sometimes makes it so. I'm always drained, I'm always tired, but that could be chalked up to my depression...

I dont have a counselor anymore, and workouts can hardly keep them at bay. I still find myself trying to fill the void, by purchasing material things. Still I find myself sheltered and cloistered in this home, on my off days it's how I recharge. For if not, its energy drinks galore and caffeine pills to keep the battery full. Running on empty it seems more often than not, but shit, to who do I speak on these things? It's not like I can just whip it out on the whim when talking casually. It's all about the environment and interaction, and who I'm speaking with. For most people, they dont need to hear about my ramblings. I'm unsure even if just talking about it would help, what if it makes it worst? I dont know the cure for my depression, I dont know what it will take for me to get over and done...

I'm envious, I used to think I wasnt. But now thinking, I am, I'm envious when I see the love and support some people get, that mine pales in comparison. Hella petty, hella fucked up, but it's true as I feel the chest pain inside. Yes, I am envious when I see people posting about how much they care about their friends, and I'm just left out and on the side. It's an old fact, I used to brush off those weekends of partying that I wasnt invited to, that I didnt need all that. I secretly wished I was included, that i was begged to make an appearance. A certain kind of validation I was seeking in others that I never saw in myself. A validation that I'm someone, someone who was cool, and people always wanted around. Popularity, something I always dreamed about having. I couldnt find the comfort in myself, I couldnt even love me. I still dont love me, hence I'm trying to change. Although i only know how to fix the physical, my spiritual and mental state still untamed.

One day perhaps, who truly knows? A wayward son, trying to find the cure for his soul...

It's getting late, until next time we'll see. Myself and Lo-Fi, it seems that I've made an interesting discovery...

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paulwalltran · 4 years

Text

The Warrior and The Skald

Preface - May be historically inaccurate and all portrayals are fictionalized and made non-research based

A proud viking warrior, admired by many and all. Known amongst his peers, a tough and resilient fighter, favored by the Gods. A multifaceted individual, one with many skills. A valuable asset, a valiant fighter worthy of Valhalla. One who would have many tales to tell with ale filled horns in hand. One that everyone will continue to talk about, his heroism and great deeds will spread across the lands. Destined for greatness, the warrior was once a simple farmer, working at a young age to help provide for his family. One of eight and the eldest, the warrior took up the role alongside his mother and father to feed them and his siblings. Though it would not slow him from his greatness. The warrior grew up struggling, fighting is no stranger to him. Adversities and hardships he overcame, he would conquer any obstacles that stood before his path, with or without a blade. Filled with the vigor of the Gods, he charged into his battles to take on mighty foes that fell before his steel. It is rumored that he was a berserker, his unmatched fury and rage took the fields by storm. It is said that the clash of his sword and axe rang like thunder, as though Thor was producing a storm. Terror in the eyes of his enemy, the warrior with no equal on the opposing side. A well renowned fighter indeed, who would soon sire an heir with his bride. The warrior and his bride would have three children, the middle child being a boy. Now a proud father, a son that would grow to be as great as him, it would fill him with joy. Though it seem that the Gods would see things differently... The warrior would continue fending for his home, and farming to provide. While the warrior continue to weather against the elements, his son would be inside. By the comforts of the fire in the winter, in the shade during the summer. The boy was interested in many things, and aspired to be a great warrior like his father. His head often lost in the clouds of thought, often day dreaming of the tales of the skalds. Epic battles and mythical creatures, the powers of their Gods. Often lackadaisical, his mind was always elsewhere. An imaginative one he was, but lazy as an ass. Work was a bore, he detested his chores. He didn’t want to learn of the things that didn’t interest him, and he didn’t want to work hard. If there was a shortcut or easy way, he would hastily take. On extended periods of work, he would need constant and multiple breaks. The boy would grow to be irresponsible, and quite fat. A laughing stock, for what had become of him, a son of a great warrior at that. How can this be? Was the warrior not favored by the Gods? Was he cursed? Was he to repent? Was his son not to become a favored warrior, greater than he was? The warrior would become ill tempered and impatient, scolding the boy for various of things. In hopes to shape the boy into something other than this slob, he would have to break him. However it would seem no amount of words could reach him, and every other scolding only made him cry. Even in this teenage years, the boy was not up to par with the others at his age, he was soft, and sensitive inside. He would show little promise physically, after the warrior took him to train. But he was still round, and constantly whined about pain. It was near the age the warrior had to let the boy become his own man. How sad he mustve been, when he heard that the boy did not want to follow the ways of a warrior. He would choose to pursue the life of a Skald, a man of poetry and art. He thought himself to be quite well versed with words, producing epic tales and images for captivation. He felt as though it was his destiny, to become a skald that made legends. Indeed, poetry came easy to him, he felt like it was his forte. Though he could feel the disappointment in his father, and it hurt him to know his choice would bring about shame. The young man never did pursue his journey in becoming a true Skald, becoming a commoner about the village. The skald and the warrior would never see eye to eye, tensions were always high, a difference in value and perception. The skald however, would still come to admire the warrior, although he has written slanderous poems in secret. When the warrior would anger the skald, he would invoke a wrath like a warrior, and deliver a mighty strike with a quill as his weapon of choice. Onto the parchment, rained words like a volley of arrows, a heavy storm of rage conveyed. But even still, he is sad, for he respected the aspects of what made his father great. He could never be what his father was, a goal out of reach. A master of work, and a master of words, two different men living in two different worlds. It is a wonder, if their worlds would ever converge. But if it was a secret, it no longer is, that the Skald still admires the warrior.

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paulwalltran · 4 years

Text

I wish someone could tell me who I am...

Reveal to me who I am, flaws and all. My strengths, my weakness, my rise and fall. Where I am good, where I am not. Where I remember and where I've forgot. Tell me something I dont know, or something I refuse to admit. Answer the lingering question: "Who am I?" Dammit.

These walls seem higher, I've given in to a certain degree. My will is fading, my grip is loosening surely. It may be soon, maybe not so. My fingers unwind, I'm letting go. Falling into the depths while trying to cling and hold on. And then I remember, and close my eyes into this free fall. Into the sea perhaps, the dark waters will wash me away. Down under the currents pull me, suffocating under the pressure and weight. Alas hoping for the bay, shit, might even start to pray. But the idea behind it all...maybe it's better this way.

Who am I? What is it I am afraid to show or expose? Why do I end up holding so much in, and not letting go? A new fear arises, addressing some feeling beneath the skin. A new hope arrives, for my life to begin feeling it's worth more than I feel it is. The value subpar from whence it start. Damaged to a degree, some may find value to the history marks. Hold it in, dont let them see. Your emotions, what you hold value to, it seems petty. You can deal, right? No, it seems you cant. Because after all this time it still bothers you, things left unfinished, unaddressed.

Lost? Yes

Confused? Always

Frustrated? A bit

Will you say? No, if I can help it.

Afraid to show weakness in any form, afraid to face the feelings within. They have the home field advantage and I cant strategize without knowing my strength. The war is on but I am putting up walls for the defense. The hurt is scary, and I dont feel like I can take it. Soft...sensitive, afraid of the pain. Protecting myself in a cloister, shutting myself off it seems from the rest of the place. Flawed thoughts, I have only me, myself, and I. Destructive habits, as I break myself down from the inside.

Just a quick insert: I miss you, I miss the way things used to be. I missed it when I felt useful, when I was somebody. It doesnt feel so, and no you've never said. But its ingrained into me, maybe it is in my head. But you've become so strong, and you found another support. You dont need me really...do ya? Sometimes it feels like no one does, so what then? What do I do, when I am not needed or regarded in a high state? In my heart I will hold you always dear to me. You're happy and doing well, and that's great, I mean so genuinely. You always cross my mind, theres so much more to be said. But I cant, not now, not here...perhaps on my last bed.

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paulwalltran · 5 years

Text

Bottles in a Room.

Here, another fill, seems like a good bit today. Sometimes it overflows, sometimes it hardly takes space. Sometimes I can cork it, sometimes I have to use multiple vessels. It all ends up in the same place, on a shelf as I tell myself, “Some day, one day...maybe later.”

Here in a room, a library of bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors. No filing, no categorizing or organizing, just find an empty space by another. Numerous, too many to really keep count. Some old, some new, but no dates are found. Some are shinier than others, some covered in dust. Some found way in the back, where some become forgotten. Is it an apothecary where potions are made? Is this where perhaps forms of alchemy takes place? Neither, it is a place where I come to drop off my feels for the day. May they find their way out of this forsaken place. Here I leave them be, perhaps for another day. When I have time, I empty the bottles in a basin, and watch as they replay. I reflect upon them, the emotions evoked that day. Feelings of sadness and sorrow, betrayal and dismay. Anger and wrath, despair and demise. Rare do I find joy and happiness, those do not end up in bottles...surprise. Its feelings and thoughts, things I have not found the courage to discuss. Nay, I wish to find the right person to tell...but I have found none. They hold provocative ideas and feelings, some hold secrets I don’t trust to have out there. Some hold feelings and concepts near and dear to me, but without addressing them, they are but ideas. Some are venomous, poison that would find its way into my veins. Intoxicating me, violating me, and messing with my brain. Others are volatile, they can inflict pain. And some are harmless, but they get bottled up and shelved, no chances to explain.

This room I rarely visit to do work, simply to drop off supply. Bottles after bottles are stocked here, with hopes of answers to open my eyes. A mystery to be unraveled, these contents holds clues to the questions I carry inside. But there simply isnt enough time, and I can’t hold on to them, they weigh me down, tire me out, fatigue me and make me weak, so they have to be set aside. I hide them in this room, and I fake some pride. I have to be strong and move along, but how long until the ones that can’t be contained, explode, leak, and create a fume for me to get high. High off of the things I thought I have left behind, secure and controlled. Sometimes you bottle up the wrong things, and they make you pay dearly for your folly. Imagine bottling up a demon, its essence momentarily contained. Emerging when you least expect it, and branding itself onto your brain. A searing pain, an agonizing ache, they will not be ignored. They make their power known, as they continue their war for domination, against you, to bend the knee, surrender, and give them control. They want you to be beaten and broken, a slave shackled in their chains. And all you can say is, “Not today, another day.” Not in a way where you fight back, but where you remain indecisive, fall back, and plan. While you scheme so do they, to launch a counter attack. Guerrilla warfare, they excel in ambushing you during your preps and march. You have the answers to their end, but you continue to put them off.

One of these days, you have to combat back, and raise your arms. But until then, you bottle up your emotions, and leave them in a room. Some day, one day, these words resemble something akin to hope. May your flames never fade, when you find yourself in the dark. May you never extinguish the candle, and may it never burn out. A fight isn’t over, until someone has given up...

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paulwalltran · 5 years

Text

Sad Day and Farewell...

August 18, 2019

Start Time: 12:52 PM (Should be sleeping for work but i wanted to do this while the feeling is still there...)

Also, Im not sure if this should be a private post or no...never know about wandering eyes. Alas it matters not, but the thoughts do. No music this time either...just me and my thoughts. I want to reach out, and I want to say, “I’ll be there.” I want to extend my hand, and say, “No matter what, I still care.” Followed by messages of “call me, text me, if you need me, I’ll be your support.” But now...I dont even know if you like me at all. I would lie to hide my pride and say its fine. But its not, I am genuinely hurt inside. I’ve lost so many, the memories come rushing back. I never thought I would lose you too...especially in this fashion. But here, I express my pain, my grievances...and possible regrets. My dilemma also, about speaking to you again. Not that I don’t want to, but what if you dont want to hear from me? What if you’re cutting me out, and leaving me no option? What if this is what you want, and I am clueless to such? What if my genuine feelings fall upon deaf ears...or worst defined as false? What if everything I would want to tell and say, would be deemed as lies? My credibility shot, honesty no longer found in my lines? These thoughts race in my brain as I take with strides this pain. Oh, how my heart aches, and oh how close it is, to break... I don’t know where to start, where to begin. Perhaps the obvious, with a lingering question...are we still friends? Or should the signs and signals point me to the obvious, I am dumbfounded. It seems, that I am no longer who I thought I was to you...as though Ive changed all of the sudden. I believe I have changed, except for the better if i must say so. Years of tomfoolery has gained me some wisdom, but I am still a fool. I am not all knowing or a sage by any means. But I believe I’ve grown for the better, and yet your opinions on me seem derogatory. It seems you think of me as a sort of degenerate, is it true? Or has another opinion swayed your thoughts, changing them to be polar opposite? I never knew of nor saw, nor heard, of anything Ive said or done to offend you. I am dumb to an extent, but I am human too. I make mistakes, I would like to correct them if I may. It seems however, that it has come to a point where it is much too late. I would like to believe however, that it will not forever be this way. That it could be years from now, but there will still be a moment in time we, or I, can re-conciliate. Say sorry, apologize, for the things I have done to hurt you. I never meant to, I meant it all in good will, I just want to look out for you. It hurts me to know, that you would believe rumors of me, why would that be so true to you? Do I not have a chance in the court room? I can clear my name, the judge is to blame. I scream foul play, but the sentencing has been rendered, my name slandered, shamed. Have I truly no say, unto you? Why won’t you believe for a second, that these accusations are untrue? I have so many questions, but do I ask you? Your ears are biased, I don’t believe they would perceive my words with neutral. I don’t understand, years you have known me, have I not shared much of myself with you? Years you have known me, and none have you told me of the things i do that bother you? I love you to a certain degree that extends farther than most. Would I change? Would I have changed? I assume I would and would’ve. I want you to be pleased with me, I would adjust to you accordingly. I would never want to drive you away, at least not intentionally. To be apart of my life is something I would wish for like most. One of my closest claimed folks, them I cherish the most. Things could be different, and how drastically it is now by other means. Change has taken effect, in ways I do not like, I whole heartedly disagree. This outcome is tragic, to say the utmost very least. I am hurt, and I feel powerless, to do anything.

These words may never reach you, they may never be heard. These words are for you, but you’re already gone. But still, in my heart, you, the purest form of you remain. My feelings, besides the pain, remain the same. I feel as though a veil has been pulled over your eyes, and your brain poisoned with taint by a snake. Its venom flowing through your veins, as you spit it back, retaliate. Even as the venom seeps into my skin, and threatens death. I still have love for you, for you until I dying breath. You may not care for me, but I don’t care any less. I keep you in my heart, this I reiterate to you, with my final breaths. I care for few in such a fashion, and you are one of the few. I value you greatly, I never wished to hurt you. I apologize in hindsight, if it means anything. I apologize for my immaturity, I couldn’t help it. I feel what I feel, and I wear my heart on my sleeve. I can’t mask my emotions, they tell their own stories. If you ever change your mind about me in a positive light, know that I have ears for you. An open heart and open arms, this remains true. I care for you so much, I even gave you space. I’ve remained patient, waiting, for you to reach out to me. If you ever felt like talking to me, or even venting about your current events. I’ve even kept your secrets just as you have asked, because you shared it to me with confidence. I wouldve wanted to say something of it, to take preventive measures and preemptive strike. Nip it in the bud as they say, to clear the air and get things right. And now I find myself a part of a list I never thought I would be a part of. But for you, my dear, in me you will still find, a heart of love. I am confused, angry to an extent, hurt even more. But I can see that I’ve played my part, and that I am needed no more. At least, hopefully for only this time. I am still here, patiently waiting for a redo, thinking about the good times. I wish we could solve things, hash them out, and sort through whatever the beef would be. I never had a clue there was any animosity between you and me. I believe in forgiveness, of course always to a certain extent. Hopefully one day you’ll forgive me, as I only wish for the best. I don’t know what more I can say, I’ll run in circle for days. Trying to drill into you, that although some things were said, I still have love for you. I know all of this doesn’t really play up that I am also at fault. That it doesn’t fully capitalize on me fucking up. But I don’t feel like I did to such a degree that it was a crime. But here I am, still serving time for a so called crime. Wish we could talk it out, its been radio silence between us. I wish you would’ve told me, I wish I had the chance to change, correct, make up. Seems like the opportunity is lost and gone, and now I wait. For you, to come back, if you ever wish to that is...

The door remains open to you, all you have to do is knock and I’ll let you in. I wouldn’t do you like that, truth, genuine. With all the love and care, I still wish you well. In the deepest part of my soul, I wish for you happiness, a kind that I have rarely felt... Be well friend, I will miss you indeed. To be continued, or the end? That will be the mystery...

Time End: 1:32 PM

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