I’m battling a mild bout of depression. As usual, it’s fueled by things that seem both reasonable and trivial.
This morning, as part of my quest to get more energy, I went out for a short jog around the neighborhood and nearby park land. By “park land,” I mean small strips of land that has grass and trees on it. The “Brandon Park” nearby is a strip
Anyvay. The jog has left me exhausted all day, achieving the precise opposite of my intended goal. I know, I know; I haven’t been exercising regularly, so my body isn’t used to it. I just need to exercise more frequently. But my Left Brain rebels at the paradox.
![[Something Wicked cover]](/graphics/journal/something_wicked_this_way_comes_cover.jpg)
Consequently, I achieved little tonight. I managed to incorporate the latest changes into Matrix Experiments Lain—a
But the atmosphere perfectly captures Bradbury’s unique mood—dark, spooky, melancholy, exhilaration twinged with sadness—and it’s a great little
But I’m stil not doing as much as I’d like to do with the time I have. I feel like, if I have a couple of hours in an evening, I should be able to get a good couple of hours’ worth of things done—writing, drawing, whatever. Instead, I work for maybe half an hour.
Still. I watched a cool little movie and worked on my animation. Life could be a lot worse.
(I’m also trying to wrap my head around some Otherspace Prodcutions accounting issues. What a headache. I wish I’d hired an accountant earlier. I still want to, but it’s an intimidating step, as I’ve clearly made some mistakes and I don’t want to look like a fool by showing those mistakes to a professional.)
And now, finally, more VR story:
“I’m sorry,” he said. She looked away, as though unwilling to commit to a reply. “I was a jerk. I do need your help, and I was stupid to blow you off like that.” He paused. “No, not just stupid. Stuck up.
“Look. I have an ego as big as the ‘net. All my life, people have warned me about that. It’s…it’s why I don’t have many real friends. Any real friends, really.”
Her eyes were on his now, her face radiating sympathy and wonder at his admission. He was still looking down, his features taut with the strain of confession.
“I don’t like that about myself, but I’ve never been able to change it. I think…I think I never really had a reason to change. I could always blow it off, or return to the ‘net where a big ego is an asset. But…now….”
His eyes returned to hers, the penitent gaze of a man seeking redemption. “Now I have a reason to change. Because of what’s happening. And…because of you.”
She took a step back, and for all her concern, her face wore the mask of a teenaged girl who’d been the object of too many mens’ desperation.
“Not like that,” he hurried to reassure her. “I’m not confessing my love here. But I am indebted to you. You’ve shown me how I can be. You’re…my inspiration.”
Come on, say it with me: Awww….