Ich könnte vor Freude das ganze Hause kaputt schlagen.
These days are exceptionally strange. Kelli doesn't read my journal anymore. Surprises. Conversations are heavy and ongoing. Relationships are complicated.
Dad asked me for a list of things he could get me for my birthday. Some kind of courtesy, since I'm a bitch to shop for and he wants SOME kinda help, even though I insist that I want for nothing. I asked for a house in Providence, Socks, and a couple of toys I've had my eyes on. Kelli insists that I should explain that it's a joke, but my response was that he WANTED options, and they're actually comfortable looking socks.
"Nothing's too good for you, so that's what I got ya"
It's raining outside. It hasn't rained in a Looooong time around here. The Assabet's lower than I've ever seen it. Seems like yesterday it was higher than it's been in a handful of decades. The other day, I saw a young fella (10 or so) down on the riverbank, fishing. I'm going to miss this dumb little town.
It's not self-doubt, precisely, but I'm not feeling the self-confidence I'd like. I'm behaving erratically. Need to get my shit together.
Can't design a new toy for the life of me. Can't even play games. Mostly distracted. I'm daydreaming about hollowing out a church and living in it. It's painful thinking about awesome future possibilities. The future may be better or worse than we hope for or expect, but it's almost never the way we envision it.
It's also not goddamn happening fast enough. I know everything will change, and it will change soon. New playgrounds, playthings, playmates... All of it. It's scheduled, it's getting arranged, and there's nothing to do about it. I'm simultaneously bored and amped. I could run off six properties (address, price, description and all) that I'm interested in moving to. Each one represents a different potential future. Different autumn walks, different area stores, different memories. Most of these possibilities won't exist. Hell, ALL of them won't exist, supplanted by some indeterminate future. Guh. Is maddening.
I'm glad Autumn's coming. I'm done with Summer. I jus' get weird around transition seasons. I also get weird around moves. I've been at my company two years last April. I've never been at a company longer than two and a half years. I appreciate the fact that, if Fate needs to fuck with me, it can at least have the decency to mix things up a bit and not have one of my several-year clockwork lifequakes revolve around a studio or project closure. Helps me feel like I'm making SOME sort of professional progress.
I never had any illusions about the game industry being a cradle-to-grave job, but I'd REALLY love the opportunity to settle someplace and just work on one damned thing for a decade. Ah, well. No need to be ingrateful. I've worked hard to make sure this is exactly the life I wanted for myself. Shitty of me to pretend like I wish it were any different now. Also shitty to demand that the future offer me security.
One-Sentance paragraphs are pretentious as shit. It occurs to me that I'm a pretentious motherfucker. I think I'm comfortable with that. Going from spoken-word poetry to frail, sensetive-boy pop on Grooveshark isn't encouraging any LESS pretention, I'm sure.
I think I kinda miss my parents. I might be moving come Christmas, and not being able to spend some sort of time with them saddens me. There's a distance between us that I think will always exist, because to close that distance would require compromises neither side is willing to surrender. Compromises neither side is willing to surrender being a painful and necessary part of participation in civilized society, I fear.
I'm going off in search of more lulzy cat pictures on the interwebs.
-343
Dad asked me for a list of things he could get me for my birthday. Some kind of courtesy, since I'm a bitch to shop for and he wants SOME kinda help, even though I insist that I want for nothing. I asked for a house in Providence, Socks, and a couple of toys I've had my eyes on. Kelli insists that I should explain that it's a joke, but my response was that he WANTED options, and they're actually comfortable looking socks.
"Nothing's too good for you, so that's what I got ya"
It's raining outside. It hasn't rained in a Looooong time around here. The Assabet's lower than I've ever seen it. Seems like yesterday it was higher than it's been in a handful of decades. The other day, I saw a young fella (10 or so) down on the riverbank, fishing. I'm going to miss this dumb little town.
It's not self-doubt, precisely, but I'm not feeling the self-confidence I'd like. I'm behaving erratically. Need to get my shit together.
Can't design a new toy for the life of me. Can't even play games. Mostly distracted. I'm daydreaming about hollowing out a church and living in it. It's painful thinking about awesome future possibilities. The future may be better or worse than we hope for or expect, but it's almost never the way we envision it.
It's also not goddamn happening fast enough. I know everything will change, and it will change soon. New playgrounds, playthings, playmates... All of it. It's scheduled, it's getting arranged, and there's nothing to do about it. I'm simultaneously bored and amped. I could run off six properties (address, price, description and all) that I'm interested in moving to. Each one represents a different potential future. Different autumn walks, different area stores, different memories. Most of these possibilities won't exist. Hell, ALL of them won't exist, supplanted by some indeterminate future. Guh. Is maddening.
I'm glad Autumn's coming. I'm done with Summer. I jus' get weird around transition seasons. I also get weird around moves. I've been at my company two years last April. I've never been at a company longer than two and a half years. I appreciate the fact that, if Fate needs to fuck with me, it can at least have the decency to mix things up a bit and not have one of my several-year clockwork lifequakes revolve around a studio or project closure. Helps me feel like I'm making SOME sort of professional progress.
I never had any illusions about the game industry being a cradle-to-grave job, but I'd REALLY love the opportunity to settle someplace and just work on one damned thing for a decade. Ah, well. No need to be ingrateful. I've worked hard to make sure this is exactly the life I wanted for myself. Shitty of me to pretend like I wish it were any different now. Also shitty to demand that the future offer me security.
One-Sentance paragraphs are pretentious as shit. It occurs to me that I'm a pretentious motherfucker. I think I'm comfortable with that. Going from spoken-word poetry to frail, sensetive-boy pop on Grooveshark isn't encouraging any LESS pretention, I'm sure.
I think I kinda miss my parents. I might be moving come Christmas, and not being able to spend some sort of time with them saddens me. There's a distance between us that I think will always exist, because to close that distance would require compromises neither side is willing to surrender. Compromises neither side is willing to surrender being a painful and necessary part of participation in civilized society, I fear.
I'm going off in search of more lulzy cat pictures on the interwebs.
-343