(no subject)
Heh, well.
I've been playing Mr. Bond at Milliways for a year. It's been interesting, this year. No idea what the next will have in store. But, at the very least, I'm glad playing this muse has brought me closer to a few friends who have, in essence and fact, saved my life. Playing this muse has introduced me to friends who've made me laugh, who made it feel OK to geek out in an unholy way over Bond. Playing this muse has got me hooked on a literary canon, an installment of which I bought with the money I got back on a CVS return. That CVS return being the sleeping pills I was going to kill myself with.
This muse has probably done a lot more for me than I realize, despite all my whining and moaning about the stress and the insecurity, the uncertainty that I'm doing him justice and the abject terror, real or imagined, of the hoards of (real or imagined) people sitting behind their computer screens yelling "you're doing it wrong!" Maybe it's a bit much--he is a fictional character, after all--but hobbies, and the communities you practice those hobbies in, have a peculiar way of keeping you alive even if you don't want life at the moment. And hobbies, and the communities supporting those hobbies, have a peculiar way of teaching you to appreciate the little things--the little things that keep you alive. Even if it's as frivolous as a playing fictional super secret agent and gobbling up every single bit of trashy, cheesy, corny, poorly written canon you can. Because it's fun. Because it makes you laugh. Because it makes you roll your eyes and criticize and nitpick and theorize. Because it makes you realize there's more to life than just the horrible things your body chemistry tells you is true.
It makes you realize you can have fun. And laugh. And live. And have friends to have fun and laugh and live with along the way.
I think that might just be worth the stress this muse has given me.
Happy New Year's, guys.
♥