(Psuedo-pyschology ;) )
"Why do you want to hurt people?"
I knew, but I didn't want to acknowledge I knew. I didn't want to face the truth of the matter; but she was going to drag it out of me either way. And what did it matter if she knew? Still... I wanted to see if she could drag it out. If I didn't have to admit the truth, then I wouldn't.
"They deserve to be hurt."
"And why do you think they deserve it?" She asked, leaning forward. Feigning interest.
"Because people are fools. If they let themselves be hurt, they deserve it. If someone is stupid enough to send their account information to some prince in Nigeria based off an email, they deserve to lose their money. Why is it any different with what I do?"
She paused for a minute, eying me. I shifted and leaned back, chewing on the hem of my sleeve.
"You deliberately tried to break Steve's heart. Don't you feel guilty for that?"
I flicked my eyes to her and replied,
"You mean, don't I feel guilty about the fact that Steve killed himself because of what I did?"
She didn't answer that one. We sat in silence for a moment before I continued.
"No." I lied. "If he was that weak then he deserved whatever he did to himself. If he was enough of a fucking moron to think I was a good person, he deserved to be hurt."
The shrink looked down at her notes for a minute, then finally back to me.
"I don't think this is about what they deserve."
"No?" I asked, feigning indifference. Here it comes.
"It's about what you think you deserve."
"Bullshit. I deserve what I get just like everyone else."
She shook her head.
"Do you think your parents deserved to die before you could even know them?"
"Well they fuckin' must have, because thats what happened."
"And you?" she asked, "Did you deserve to be left alone? Not just then, but your adoption parents..."
I clenched my jaw and stared at her in anger.
"This isn't about what other people deserve. It's about what you feel you deserve, because life has taught you that you deserve nothing but pain. And that's not true. You hurt other people because it makes you feel like the demon that you think you are. It makes you hurt when you hurt others. I know that being responsible for Steve's suicide makes you hurt."
"That's bullshit." I replied, standing and heading for the door. She'd pushed it too far.
"You don't have to feel like this. You can be a good person. You deserve to be a good person."
"Bullshit." I walked out the door. I knew she was right. I hurt other people because I'd been hurt. I felt like I deserved to be hurt. And fucking with other people made me feel like I really did deserve it. If I didn't before, I did now. Steve proved that much.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Biphasic Day Three, Four
Sep 25
2:12 AM-
Eyes are pretty sore, and I feel mildly tired. I think I'll take a break from the computer for a minute and make something to eat, since that seems to restore a bit of energy.
2:35 AM-
Made a PB&J and drank some milk. The worst thing is the eye soreness, it just makes you wanna close your eyes, which makes you more tired. Hmm. Not very eloquent today am I? Oh well. Another 2.5 hours and I can get some rest.
5:00 - 9:30 AM-
Decided to go for 4.5 hours on this one and see how I felt. It sure was a great sleep, maybe too great. It was realllly hard to get up out of bed. I wanted to just lay there and enjoy the feeling of the awesome sleep for a few more hours.
Well, as you can see I did manage to get up. It does seem to take longer to really wake up the longer I've slept, and also based on the quality of sleep. There seem to be two types of good sleep. The first is like today, where I feel rested but superbly comfortable. As nice as the feeling is, makes it bloody hard to get out of that bed.
The second is where the alarm goes off and I am wide awake and ready to go. This has the advantage where it takes less time to wake up, but lacks that extremely pleasent feeling of the first type.
Anyway, what this leads me to believe is that 4.5 hours for the morning sleep are best kept to a minimum, to recharge my batteries after a particularly long night, or if I feel like indulging myself. Three hours seems fine for normal circumstances!
It's odd to consider that I think of 4.5 hours as quite a lot now.. before that would have been almost nothing to me.
12:00 PM-
Went out to lunch with Josh, ate quite a bit and had two beers, left feeling rather drowsy.
4:08 PM-
The usual sleepiness that seems to occur around this time. Little else to report really.
9:34 PM-
8-9:30 nap went well. Need to head down to the corner store and grab some cigarettes before they close.
--------------------------------------------------------
Sep 26 Day Four
5:00 - 8:00 AM sleep-
Woke up the the sound of my computer waking up from sleep (Just the sounds of the fans comning on, in other words) before my alarm went off about 20 seconds later.
Also experienced that feeling of 'Oh shit, did I oversleep!?!' that others have described. It's still a bit unbelievable.
If I need it, I think I will allow myself a 30 min nap or two later today, since I went from 6 hours to 4.5
7:27 PM-
Worked on the house throughout most of the day with Frank, afterwards went out for few beers with him an Dave. Had some awesome beers (Devoloping a fondness for dark beers'; they often taste like coffee) However, currently preparing for my evening bath and sleep.
8:00 - 11:00 PM-
Ended up sleeping an extra 1.5 hours, for a total of three. Mostly just to sleep off inebriation. My updates have sucked today and yesterday, mostly because I've been doing things that are just one thing for a large block of hours (Watching movies, working on the house etc)
Perhaps tomorrow will offer a different experience, as it will be my first day of work while on this schedule.
Day Four (Sep 26) Recap-
Pretty simple day. Work on house > Drink > Sleep.
Although this does allow me to experience the effects of drinking on my sleep. Which is to say, you need more of it after drinking. Not many surprises there.
2:12 AM-
Eyes are pretty sore, and I feel mildly tired. I think I'll take a break from the computer for a minute and make something to eat, since that seems to restore a bit of energy.
2:35 AM-
Made a PB&J and drank some milk. The worst thing is the eye soreness, it just makes you wanna close your eyes, which makes you more tired. Hmm. Not very eloquent today am I? Oh well. Another 2.5 hours and I can get some rest.
5:00 - 9:30 AM-
Decided to go for 4.5 hours on this one and see how I felt. It sure was a great sleep, maybe too great. It was realllly hard to get up out of bed. I wanted to just lay there and enjoy the feeling of the awesome sleep for a few more hours.
Well, as you can see I did manage to get up. It does seem to take longer to really wake up the longer I've slept, and also based on the quality of sleep. There seem to be two types of good sleep. The first is like today, where I feel rested but superbly comfortable. As nice as the feeling is, makes it bloody hard to get out of that bed.
The second is where the alarm goes off and I am wide awake and ready to go. This has the advantage where it takes less time to wake up, but lacks that extremely pleasent feeling of the first type.
Anyway, what this leads me to believe is that 4.5 hours for the morning sleep are best kept to a minimum, to recharge my batteries after a particularly long night, or if I feel like indulging myself. Three hours seems fine for normal circumstances!
It's odd to consider that I think of 4.5 hours as quite a lot now.. before that would have been almost nothing to me.
12:00 PM-
Went out to lunch with Josh, ate quite a bit and had two beers, left feeling rather drowsy.
4:08 PM-
The usual sleepiness that seems to occur around this time. Little else to report really.
9:34 PM-
8-9:30 nap went well. Need to head down to the corner store and grab some cigarettes before they close.
--------------------------------------------------------
Sep 26 Day Four
5:00 - 8:00 AM sleep-
Woke up the the sound of my computer waking up from sleep (Just the sounds of the fans comning on, in other words) before my alarm went off about 20 seconds later.
Also experienced that feeling of 'Oh shit, did I oversleep!?!' that others have described. It's still a bit unbelievable.
If I need it, I think I will allow myself a 30 min nap or two later today, since I went from 6 hours to 4.5
7:27 PM-
Worked on the house throughout most of the day with Frank, afterwards went out for few beers with him an Dave. Had some awesome beers (Devoloping a fondness for dark beers'; they often taste like coffee) However, currently preparing for my evening bath and sleep.
8:00 - 11:00 PM-
Ended up sleeping an extra 1.5 hours, for a total of three. Mostly just to sleep off inebriation. My updates have sucked today and yesterday, mostly because I've been doing things that are just one thing for a large block of hours (Watching movies, working on the house etc)
Perhaps tomorrow will offer a different experience, as it will be my first day of work while on this schedule.
Day Four (Sep 26) Recap-
Pretty simple day. Work on house > Drink > Sleep.
Although this does allow me to experience the effects of drinking on my sleep. Which is to say, you need more of it after drinking. Not many surprises there.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Biphasic Day Two
Sep 24
2:42 AM-
Did a set of 30 second stretches, then went for a two hour walk to the local supermarket while listening to trance. Picked up some sparkling water and sour gummy worms. Walk went well, but as soon as I got home I started to feel a bit of nausea. Still feeling it now, not entirely sure why. Had about 5 gummy worms and a can of soda water on the way home, so I don't think thats it.
Eyes are a bit sore again, nothing terrible. Going to make some ginger/cinnamon tea. Um... not much else to say at the moment.
3:32 AM-
Nausea passed. Sore from the long walk, so thats adding to my tiredness, but it looks like I'll be able to sleep from 5-8 which is good. What's odd is I havn't been playing any games since I started this experiment, rather been watching movies, anime, and reading.
5:00-8:00 Sleep-
5-8 nap was horrible. I slept for about 20 minutes, so when the alarms went off I got up, turned them off, stood there for a minute and decided the 6 hours between sleeps is too short. Set the alarm for another 1.5 hours (9:30) and went back to bed.
That helped quite a bit. I could tell the first 'sleep' had almost no restorative effect this time, but 1.5 hours extra gets me back up at about normal levels.
The real question is how to adjust my schedule with this new knowledge. It seems like moving my 3 hour sleep from 8-11 PM back three hours to 5-8 PM would be the simplest answer. Nine hours awake, three hours sleep, nine hours awake, three hours sleep. There's one major problem though: 5-8 PM is right in dinner hours! Hmm.
Well then.
3:30-8:00 AM Sleep
5:00-6:30 PM Nap
This was the more common arrangement that I found people used: a 4 to 4.5 hour 'core sleep' and then a 1.5 hour nap. After a while they begin to reduce the core sleep time, while keeping the nap time at 1.5 hours.
I'll give it a try. 4.5 hours is still a large chunk of time to be asleep, but the idea was to slowly reduce my overall sleeping time eventually anyway, so over time I can whittle this down.
11:07 AM-
I still find myself with urges to crawl back into bed and curl under the blankets. Not so much for the sleep as just the comfortable warmth of it. Perhaps this is why one person recommended wearing sweaters etc, even if it made you uncomfortably warm.
I think the biggest thing is that sleeping is an excellent way to pass empty time. So I have to find other ways to fill my time. On the plus side, been watching Hetalia and it's hilarious. Well, sometimes. But always entertaining at least.
Still! It's enough to make me want to get back into WoW. Or EVE. I really can't wait til Fable 3 comes out though... -Sigh.- Well, EVE would be preferable to WoW.
Oh EVE, how you take up my time with meaningless micromanagement, and how I do love it. And my pretty Abaddon.
1:42 PM-
Feeling awake and alert. Made some nomz ramen with chicken, onion, ginger, and egg. But what I wanted to say is that I'm debating changing my original schedule so early... Maybe cutting back my sleep at 8 PM to just 1.5 hours instead of 3 would work? And then just keep my 5 AM sleep at 3 hours. That would mean I only get 4.5 hours of sleep a day, instead of my originally intended 6... but if it works, it works! So I wouldn't complain.
So what I am considering now:
8:00 - 7:45 PM
5:00 - 8:00 AM
I think I will give this a try, and see how my 5-8 AM sleep goes. If it's better, I'll keep this new schedule. If it's worse, I'll do the schedule I mentioned in my first update of the day.
Also, beginning to realize that even if I feel pretty terrible in the morning, as the day progresses I begin to feel better and better. I may have been premature in my decision to change my schedule so drastically this morning.
2:03 PM-
Quick comment: I've been feeling a lot more positive and energetic today and yesterday than I usually am. We'll see if it lasts.
7:19 PM-
I plan on sleeping at 8 for 1.5 hours. Will see how that effects my other sleep. Aside from that, I am well, albiet still suffering a bit of boredom.
8:00 - 9:30 PM-
Hot damn. I was up like a rocket when that alarm went off! Fantastic nap. Took a bit longer to fall asleep than I would have liked but not going to complain. Now the real question: will I be able to sleep come 5 AM?
11:19 PM-
Cleaned the bathroom a little, washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then I swept downstairs. I think if I am going to clean more in the future it should be during the day, as vacuuming and such is not really an option when people are sleeping.
Not entirely sure what to do at the moment, but I am thinking that night time should be reserved for games, exercise etc, while daytime for more important tasks.
September 24 Recap-
This morning was a bit of a hiccup, however tonights nap was great. feeling a bit drowsy (It's a few minutes past midnight now). Overall I think the last two days have gone surprisingly well. Not much else to say for today, so day three begins!
Edit to add: 9.5 hours sleep in the last 48.
2:42 AM-
Did a set of 30 second stretches, then went for a two hour walk to the local supermarket while listening to trance. Picked up some sparkling water and sour gummy worms. Walk went well, but as soon as I got home I started to feel a bit of nausea. Still feeling it now, not entirely sure why. Had about 5 gummy worms and a can of soda water on the way home, so I don't think thats it.
Eyes are a bit sore again, nothing terrible. Going to make some ginger/cinnamon tea. Um... not much else to say at the moment.
3:32 AM-
Nausea passed. Sore from the long walk, so thats adding to my tiredness, but it looks like I'll be able to sleep from 5-8 which is good. What's odd is I havn't been playing any games since I started this experiment, rather been watching movies, anime, and reading.
5:00-8:00 Sleep-
5-8 nap was horrible. I slept for about 20 minutes, so when the alarms went off I got up, turned them off, stood there for a minute and decided the 6 hours between sleeps is too short. Set the alarm for another 1.5 hours (9:30) and went back to bed.
That helped quite a bit. I could tell the first 'sleep' had almost no restorative effect this time, but 1.5 hours extra gets me back up at about normal levels.
The real question is how to adjust my schedule with this new knowledge. It seems like moving my 3 hour sleep from 8-11 PM back three hours to 5-8 PM would be the simplest answer. Nine hours awake, three hours sleep, nine hours awake, three hours sleep. There's one major problem though: 5-8 PM is right in dinner hours! Hmm.
Well then.
3:30-8:00 AM Sleep
5:00-6:30 PM Nap
This was the more common arrangement that I found people used: a 4 to 4.5 hour 'core sleep' and then a 1.5 hour nap. After a while they begin to reduce the core sleep time, while keeping the nap time at 1.5 hours.
I'll give it a try. 4.5 hours is still a large chunk of time to be asleep, but the idea was to slowly reduce my overall sleeping time eventually anyway, so over time I can whittle this down.
11:07 AM-
I still find myself with urges to crawl back into bed and curl under the blankets. Not so much for the sleep as just the comfortable warmth of it. Perhaps this is why one person recommended wearing sweaters etc, even if it made you uncomfortably warm.
I think the biggest thing is that sleeping is an excellent way to pass empty time. So I have to find other ways to fill my time. On the plus side, been watching Hetalia and it's hilarious. Well, sometimes. But always entertaining at least.
Still! It's enough to make me want to get back into WoW. Or EVE. I really can't wait til Fable 3 comes out though... -Sigh.- Well, EVE would be preferable to WoW.
Oh EVE, how you take up my time with meaningless micromanagement, and how I do love it. And my pretty Abaddon.
1:42 PM-
Feeling awake and alert. Made some nomz ramen with chicken, onion, ginger, and egg. But what I wanted to say is that I'm debating changing my original schedule so early... Maybe cutting back my sleep at 8 PM to just 1.5 hours instead of 3 would work? And then just keep my 5 AM sleep at 3 hours. That would mean I only get 4.5 hours of sleep a day, instead of my originally intended 6... but if it works, it works! So I wouldn't complain.
So what I am considering now:
8:00 - 7:45 PM
5:00 - 8:00 AM
I think I will give this a try, and see how my 5-8 AM sleep goes. If it's better, I'll keep this new schedule. If it's worse, I'll do the schedule I mentioned in my first update of the day.
Also, beginning to realize that even if I feel pretty terrible in the morning, as the day progresses I begin to feel better and better. I may have been premature in my decision to change my schedule so drastically this morning.
2:03 PM-
Quick comment: I've been feeling a lot more positive and energetic today and yesterday than I usually am. We'll see if it lasts.
7:19 PM-
I plan on sleeping at 8 for 1.5 hours. Will see how that effects my other sleep. Aside from that, I am well, albiet still suffering a bit of boredom.
8:00 - 9:30 PM-
Hot damn. I was up like a rocket when that alarm went off! Fantastic nap. Took a bit longer to fall asleep than I would have liked but not going to complain. Now the real question: will I be able to sleep come 5 AM?
11:19 PM-
Cleaned the bathroom a little, washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then I swept downstairs. I think if I am going to clean more in the future it should be during the day, as vacuuming and such is not really an option when people are sleeping.
Not entirely sure what to do at the moment, but I am thinking that night time should be reserved for games, exercise etc, while daytime for more important tasks.
September 24 Recap-
This morning was a bit of a hiccup, however tonights nap was great. feeling a bit drowsy (It's a few minutes past midnight now). Overall I think the last two days have gone surprisingly well. Not much else to say for today, so day three begins!
Edit to add: 9.5 hours sleep in the last 48.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Biphasic Day One
The past three days I've been (Inadvertantly) sleeping 3-4 hours, waking up, dicking around for a few hours and then going back to sleep for 2 or 3 hours. The first day I felt like hell, but the second and third I felt about as rested as if I'd gotten a straight 6-8 hour sleep.
Well, I'd heard of biphasic sleeping before. Supposedly it was common in the time before the advent of clocks and electricity. So, considering that I've already had three days practice, albeit unintentionally, I've decided to adopt biphasic sleep officaially. Or at least attempt to.
This will be my first day. At the moment, the plan is to sleep from 20:00 to 23:00 (8 PM to 11 PM) followed by a period of six hours awake, and then three more hours of sleep (05:00 to 08:00). Since I normally wake up at 8 AM for work on Monday and Tuesday anyway, this seemed ideal.
Unfortunately my first 3 hour period was a failure (That would be Wednesday, Sep 22 from 20:00 to 23:00). I laid in bed for an hour, which was rather relaxing, but couldn't fall asleep.
5:00 to 8:00 AM Sleep-
The second sleep (Sep 23) went great. Just woke up from it, And for only three hours it feels great. I actually woke up at 7:46, but I wanted to make sure my alarms were suffecient (First night using Task Manager to both wake my computer from sleep and play music). Considering how I jumped up after they both went off it seems they will be ok. We'll see, but I think since I'll be experiencing much less sleep deprivation than somone trying an Uberman or Everyman schedule (Where you get all those crazy stories of people waking up, turning off three alarms across the room, and immediatly going back to bed without remembering a thing) two alarms whould be suffecient.
I also remember having a very detailed dream, something where I was playing a crazy video game, but writing this seems to have made me forget sadly. I can't deny that I really do want to crawl back into bed for 'just a bit longer' because it felt so great to sleep, but I know that is a mistake. Starting my 'morning routine' should help.
As a side note: I'm interested in seeing if this waking up 15 minutes shy of a full three hours becomes a trend or was just a fluke. I did go to bed about 10 minutes early to give myself time to fall asleep (Which was needed, but not too much. I still fell asleep way faster than I have the previous three nights.)
A promising first morning but we'll see if I can make it the full twelve hours till my next sleep. If I end up too exhausted, I'd rather just move that to an earlier time for now, but not unless it is absolutely neccesary. I'd like to keep this adaptation period as strict (And subsequently as short) as possible.
Waking up to 'Alexithymia' by Anberlin was pretty nice, as well.
12:41 PM-
Feeling quite well, been pretty energetic since my shower at about 9 AM. Finished up laundry I started last night (Our dryer sucks so it takes a while), wrote a short story (On this blog, Alexithymia) and cleaned out the mouse cage. The only problem is my stomach has been a bit off, but thats normal for me under light sleep. Nothing severe, just more frequent bathroom trips than normal. So I made some ginger and cinnamon tea. It's supposed to get down to the 40's tonight so I'm hoping A) that will ensure I am able to get good sleep periods and B) That I don't sleep -too- good and not wanna get out of my warm bed!
All in all I'm surprised at how well the day has gone thus far. Not anticipating incapacitating (Heh, alliteration) drowsiness before my 8-11 PM sleep period. But we'll see.
Oh, almost forgot: now that I'm done cleaning the cage I'm at a loss as to what to do. However it's not the usual restless boredom I usually get, I feel pretty relaxed.
1:37 PM-
Played with Bailey for a while. Feeling slight urges to nap, easy to resist. Yawning a bit.
4:40 PM-
Noticeably tired, mostly my eyes. Looking forward to the 8-11 sleep, but I'm not on the verge of passing out or anything.
6:30 PM-
Ate a big meal of homemade chicken soup and bread. The bread really filled me up, I was only able to finish half my second bowl of soup. However, it does seem to have woken me up a bit, at least for the moment. I'm curious as to how this will affect my 8-11 sleep. It may mean I fall asleep easier, but it might also make waking up harder. The success of earlier nap of 5-8 AM leaves me somewhat hopeful. I'd like to feel well enough to exercise (This was one of my reasons for attempting biphasic sleep.)
I should also note that I am -very- keen on not oversleeping and keeping a strict schedule. These seem to be the two biggest issues that fuck up people's adaptation, causing a lot of them to fail. Plus, if I can do all of this without oversleeping a single time, it'd be an awesome personal achievment!
8:00 to 11:00 PM Sleep-
Hmm. Not that fanatastic, but not horrible either. Certainly not the refreshed feeling of this morning's nap. That may be simply be the effects of a sleep debt, or, it may be the fact that I really pushed getting into bed -exactly- to 8 PM instead of going ten minutes early like last time. In tomorrow's sleep, I'll try hitting the sack ten minutes early again.
Also: one of my alarms was set wrong! My cell phone was set to 8 AM! That would've been twleve hours of sleep. Lucky me, my computer alarm going off (Just the music) was enough to wake me up, but it was a close call. I need to up the volume on that.
Furthermore, the urge to go back to sleep immediatly upon waking up is quite strong. I was sitting in my bed fixing my cell phone alarm after turning off the computer one, and thinking "If I don't get up now, there's a decent chance I'll flop over and pass out"
So, I just slid off the bed and stood. It helped, and the urge to go back to bed faded quickly afterwards.
Mm... so a bit groggy this time. But definitly more refreshed at the moment than when I went to bed, and only a six hour stretch till my morning nap as opposed to twelve like last time! Not so bad at all. Oh! What the fuck did I want to add... Um... the food! That was it.
Anyway, I had a pretty big meal about and hour and a half before bed time. I was curious as to if this would affect my sleep at all. It -may- be why tonight's nap wasn't all that fantastic (Although, I've certainly had times I've felt worse after sleeping 8+ hours straight). But there's too many variables to say definitly if that is the cause.
Think I took about 10-20 minutes to fall asleep, not great but it is still early in the test, and still much better than before I started. I think I could use with a glass of OJ though! ;) And a bike ride might be nice in an hour or so.
11:22 PM-
Mmm, have some orange juice and the last of the s'mores brownie mom made (Soooo good, but so sweet! Not a bad breakfast food when coupled with something tart like OJ) and I feel quite good, it's really amazing how even just three hours is that helpful. I guess thats how those uberman guys feel, but on their 20 minute naps! Well, once they start adapting and the naps actually kick in, anyway. Amazing stuff. I'm sure they think what I'm doing is cake, but if I just jumped into something like that I'd very likely fail... I know my limits, and unless I have something continiously going (Like in P-Days at bootcamp. You're up for something like 72 hours, but since you're constantly on the move with PO's pushing at you it's not that hard)
This biphasic presents me with better options, I think. I can move down to four hours total a night, and from there can, if I decide I want to, move into a polyphasic sleep.
Still really have my doubts about polyphasic. Mostly I hate the idea that you can only really miss one nap or you're doomed to crashing! But you know, thats what the future is for, I can always try it, and if I don't like it I don't have to stick with it. The benefits once you're fully adapated seem pretty badass, one youtube blog in particular from a girl has me pretty convinced. She actually went back to monophasic after about 8 months of poly, and she said it SUCKED. She actually missed polyphasic! (I should note she went back because she wanted to lose weight, not because of any inherent problems in sleeping polyphasic. She loved it. But then, I also think she looked better black hair than blonde :P)
Jeeze, I really start rambling on these updates. I wonder if I keep up this log it will help my writing blocks at all. Anyway...
Day One Recap-
Not to shabby, actually. The three hour sleep cycles seem to be the way to go. I'll make minor adjustments as needed, though of course the eventual end plan is to cut that down to two hours (Four total) if possible, however that won't occur anytime before 21 days on the 6 hours schedule, possibly 30 if things end up taking a while. For now it's just slow and easy down the 6 hour path.
No oversleeps! Of course, I've only had two official three-hour sleeps, but if you add in my jacked up schedule beforehand (Which is the cause of all of this anyway) it's more like four days of this. So I had a headstart before my official 'Day One' :P
P.S.- Official sleep time is now 6 hours in the last 24. Hm... that doesn't sound all that impressive unless you consider that it's 18 hours awake with very little stimulants or sleepiness! So in that sense,
I'm making anote here:
Huge Success!
It's hard to overstate my satisfaction.
Aperture Science:
We do what we must,
Because we c-
Ehm. Anyway. TECHNICALLY speaking, it's been more like 6 hours of sleep in the last... ehm... 34 or 35 hours. So that's a bit more impressive :P (If I had been able to sleep on my first official nap it'd be 9 hours in 34)
Whelp. Next day begins after midnight, which is only about 20 minutes. So I'll see you there :P
(Assuming anyone will be reading this. I suppose it's really for my own record keeping, since my blog is read about as much as Maxim magazine. Everyone just comes for the pretty pictures)
-Edit- Forgot to add, this 6 hour awake period is supposed to be caffeine free. Don't trust 6 hours as enough time for caffeine not to screw up my 5-8 AM sleep.
Well, I'd heard of biphasic sleeping before. Supposedly it was common in the time before the advent of clocks and electricity. So, considering that I've already had three days practice, albeit unintentionally, I've decided to adopt biphasic sleep officaially. Or at least attempt to.
This will be my first day. At the moment, the plan is to sleep from 20:00 to 23:00 (8 PM to 11 PM) followed by a period of six hours awake, and then three more hours of sleep (05:00 to 08:00). Since I normally wake up at 8 AM for work on Monday and Tuesday anyway, this seemed ideal.
Unfortunately my first 3 hour period was a failure (That would be Wednesday, Sep 22 from 20:00 to 23:00). I laid in bed for an hour, which was rather relaxing, but couldn't fall asleep.
5:00 to 8:00 AM Sleep-
The second sleep (Sep 23) went great. Just woke up from it, And for only three hours it feels great. I actually woke up at 7:46, but I wanted to make sure my alarms were suffecient (First night using Task Manager to both wake my computer from sleep and play music). Considering how I jumped up after they both went off it seems they will be ok. We'll see, but I think since I'll be experiencing much less sleep deprivation than somone trying an Uberman or Everyman schedule (Where you get all those crazy stories of people waking up, turning off three alarms across the room, and immediatly going back to bed without remembering a thing) two alarms whould be suffecient.
I also remember having a very detailed dream, something where I was playing a crazy video game, but writing this seems to have made me forget sadly. I can't deny that I really do want to crawl back into bed for 'just a bit longer' because it felt so great to sleep, but I know that is a mistake. Starting my 'morning routine' should help.
As a side note: I'm interested in seeing if this waking up 15 minutes shy of a full three hours becomes a trend or was just a fluke. I did go to bed about 10 minutes early to give myself time to fall asleep (Which was needed, but not too much. I still fell asleep way faster than I have the previous three nights.)
A promising first morning but we'll see if I can make it the full twelve hours till my next sleep. If I end up too exhausted, I'd rather just move that to an earlier time for now, but not unless it is absolutely neccesary. I'd like to keep this adaptation period as strict (And subsequently as short) as possible.
Waking up to 'Alexithymia' by Anberlin was pretty nice, as well.
12:41 PM-
Feeling quite well, been pretty energetic since my shower at about 9 AM. Finished up laundry I started last night (Our dryer sucks so it takes a while), wrote a short story (On this blog, Alexithymia) and cleaned out the mouse cage. The only problem is my stomach has been a bit off, but thats normal for me under light sleep. Nothing severe, just more frequent bathroom trips than normal. So I made some ginger and cinnamon tea. It's supposed to get down to the 40's tonight so I'm hoping A) that will ensure I am able to get good sleep periods and B) That I don't sleep -too- good and not wanna get out of my warm bed!
All in all I'm surprised at how well the day has gone thus far. Not anticipating incapacitating (Heh, alliteration) drowsiness before my 8-11 PM sleep period. But we'll see.
Oh, almost forgot: now that I'm done cleaning the cage I'm at a loss as to what to do. However it's not the usual restless boredom I usually get, I feel pretty relaxed.
1:37 PM-
Played with Bailey for a while. Feeling slight urges to nap, easy to resist. Yawning a bit.
4:40 PM-
Noticeably tired, mostly my eyes. Looking forward to the 8-11 sleep, but I'm not on the verge of passing out or anything.
6:30 PM-
Ate a big meal of homemade chicken soup and bread. The bread really filled me up, I was only able to finish half my second bowl of soup. However, it does seem to have woken me up a bit, at least for the moment. I'm curious as to how this will affect my 8-11 sleep. It may mean I fall asleep easier, but it might also make waking up harder. The success of earlier nap of 5-8 AM leaves me somewhat hopeful. I'd like to feel well enough to exercise (This was one of my reasons for attempting biphasic sleep.)
I should also note that I am -very- keen on not oversleeping and keeping a strict schedule. These seem to be the two biggest issues that fuck up people's adaptation, causing a lot of them to fail. Plus, if I can do all of this without oversleeping a single time, it'd be an awesome personal achievment!
8:00 to 11:00 PM Sleep-
Hmm. Not that fanatastic, but not horrible either. Certainly not the refreshed feeling of this morning's nap. That may be simply be the effects of a sleep debt, or, it may be the fact that I really pushed getting into bed -exactly- to 8 PM instead of going ten minutes early like last time. In tomorrow's sleep, I'll try hitting the sack ten minutes early again.
Also: one of my alarms was set wrong! My cell phone was set to 8 AM! That would've been twleve hours of sleep. Lucky me, my computer alarm going off (Just the music) was enough to wake me up, but it was a close call. I need to up the volume on that.
Furthermore, the urge to go back to sleep immediatly upon waking up is quite strong. I was sitting in my bed fixing my cell phone alarm after turning off the computer one, and thinking "If I don't get up now, there's a decent chance I'll flop over and pass out"
So, I just slid off the bed and stood. It helped, and the urge to go back to bed faded quickly afterwards.
Mm... so a bit groggy this time. But definitly more refreshed at the moment than when I went to bed, and only a six hour stretch till my morning nap as opposed to twelve like last time! Not so bad at all. Oh! What the fuck did I want to add... Um... the food! That was it.
Anyway, I had a pretty big meal about and hour and a half before bed time. I was curious as to if this would affect my sleep at all. It -may- be why tonight's nap wasn't all that fantastic (Although, I've certainly had times I've felt worse after sleeping 8+ hours straight). But there's too many variables to say definitly if that is the cause.
Think I took about 10-20 minutes to fall asleep, not great but it is still early in the test, and still much better than before I started. I think I could use with a glass of OJ though! ;) And a bike ride might be nice in an hour or so.
11:22 PM-
Mmm, have some orange juice and the last of the s'mores brownie mom made (Soooo good, but so sweet! Not a bad breakfast food when coupled with something tart like OJ) and I feel quite good, it's really amazing how even just three hours is that helpful. I guess thats how those uberman guys feel, but on their 20 minute naps! Well, once they start adapting and the naps actually kick in, anyway. Amazing stuff. I'm sure they think what I'm doing is cake, but if I just jumped into something like that I'd very likely fail... I know my limits, and unless I have something continiously going (Like in P-Days at bootcamp. You're up for something like 72 hours, but since you're constantly on the move with PO's pushing at you it's not that hard)
This biphasic presents me with better options, I think. I can move down to four hours total a night, and from there can, if I decide I want to, move into a polyphasic sleep.
Still really have my doubts about polyphasic. Mostly I hate the idea that you can only really miss one nap or you're doomed to crashing! But you know, thats what the future is for, I can always try it, and if I don't like it I don't have to stick with it. The benefits once you're fully adapated seem pretty badass, one youtube blog in particular from a girl has me pretty convinced. She actually went back to monophasic after about 8 months of poly, and she said it SUCKED. She actually missed polyphasic! (I should note she went back because she wanted to lose weight, not because of any inherent problems in sleeping polyphasic. She loved it. But then, I also think she looked better black hair than blonde :P)
Jeeze, I really start rambling on these updates. I wonder if I keep up this log it will help my writing blocks at all. Anyway...
Day One Recap-
Not to shabby, actually. The three hour sleep cycles seem to be the way to go. I'll make minor adjustments as needed, though of course the eventual end plan is to cut that down to two hours (Four total) if possible, however that won't occur anytime before 21 days on the 6 hours schedule, possibly 30 if things end up taking a while. For now it's just slow and easy down the 6 hour path.
No oversleeps! Of course, I've only had two official three-hour sleeps, but if you add in my jacked up schedule beforehand (Which is the cause of all of this anyway) it's more like four days of this. So I had a headstart before my official 'Day One' :P
P.S.- Official sleep time is now 6 hours in the last 24. Hm... that doesn't sound all that impressive unless you consider that it's 18 hours awake with very little stimulants or sleepiness! So in that sense,
I'm making anote here:
Huge Success!
It's hard to overstate my satisfaction.
Aperture Science:
We do what we must,
Because we c-
Ehm. Anyway. TECHNICALLY speaking, it's been more like 6 hours of sleep in the last... ehm... 34 or 35 hours. So that's a bit more impressive :P (If I had been able to sleep on my first official nap it'd be 9 hours in 34)
Whelp. Next day begins after midnight, which is only about 20 minutes. So I'll see you there :P
(Assuming anyone will be reading this. I suppose it's really for my own record keeping, since my blog is read about as much as Maxim magazine. Everyone just comes for the pretty pictures)
-Edit- Forgot to add, this 6 hour awake period is supposed to be caffeine free. Don't trust 6 hours as enough time for caffeine not to screw up my 5-8 AM sleep.
Alexithymia
(Written in wordpad while listening the the Anberlin song of the same name as the title)
It's not as if it were impossible to stop this endless spiral, trailing smoke, oil and blood spattered on the inside of the cockpit glass. Stereotypical crash scene. But sometimes they made it out, right? They slid that cockpit open, jumped out, pulled the parachute cord.
Assuming the parachute opened correctly, nobody perforated them with bullets, and they landed in safe territory without breaking their neck, the pilot would make it out alive. Fuck-all odds, if you ask me. Might as well win the lottery.
Thats what I thought as I stared at my bland cereal, with it's pale soy milk. The house creaked around me in early morning winds, other residents yet to wake. A scrap of song passed through my mind with a faint reminiscence, like the smallest wiff of a fragrance once worn by some forgotten lover, long passed.
Shit. It was hardly fair. I could hear the grains of snow beat against the old, warped glass panes of the windows. Virtually see the frosty breath of winter's wrathe creep in through the cracks around the doors and windows, between the ceiling and the wall. It was like some inevitable shadow-thing from a horror movie. Back when they allowed such things.
And still all was bland. It occured to me that this entire house represented the state of things; the state of the state, if you wish. I don't need to spell out the metaphor for you, at least I shouldn't. Unless you're dim on chems, but then, it's unlikely you'd be reading this anyway...
Fuck. It's all so redundant. My downcast eyes blinked away their glaze. I think my 'milk' was forming ice crystals. It had to be warmer in the battered old fridge then it was in this damn dining room. I wanted to crawl back into bed, to dream of a time and place before things were in a state of rotting undeath. It was all so fucking rediculous.
But no. I had to shovel the walks, at three in the morning. Two feet of snow outside, blizzard conditions and I have to shovel two miles to the work site. It wasn't going to happen. I knew it. The house coordinator knew it. If I failed, I would have my rations cut and... it didn't really matter anymore. What really pissed me off was Mally should've been the one to shovel today, but she was eating out that cunt of a coordinaters cunt, so she got all sorts of benefits. It would've been kinky, but it wasn't.
Honestly though, nobody should have to shovel. None of us should have fucking been here in the first place. But here we were. Because there wasn't really an alternative, unless you wanted to rot in the wastes. 'Course, we were rotting here all the same.
It was hard to resist the temptation to just kill them all in their sleep. I'd be doing them a favor, right? Even Brendon, and he was only twelve. Poor kid. Wasn't fair to him to be born into this world. Not like any of us are given a choice to be born.
Some of them deserved it. Some of them didn't. But instead of stabbing the coordinator in the eyes with my spoon, I thought about the wastes. Gated off. Patrolled. Guarded. There were the rumors of course, colonies spread out there, living free, more or less. It was hard to tell if they were spread by trolls or the centgov.
Fuck it. I was dead if I stayed here. And freezing to death out there didn't seem so bad anymore. I took what was mine, and stole the snowshoes. There was only one pair, for the coordinator. Fuck that whore.
The fence to the wastes laid two miles behind the house. A hundred paces out I thought I heard the entire thing crash down behind me; it was hard to tell over the wind. Probably just my imagination. Probably.
I got the the fence and it was halfway blown over with snow, like some sort of one way ramp. An open invitation, just for me. There's more to living than just being alive.
It's not as if it were impossible to stop this endless spiral, trailing smoke, oil and blood spattered on the inside of the cockpit glass. Stereotypical crash scene. But sometimes they made it out, right? They slid that cockpit open, jumped out, pulled the parachute cord.
Assuming the parachute opened correctly, nobody perforated them with bullets, and they landed in safe territory without breaking their neck, the pilot would make it out alive. Fuck-all odds, if you ask me. Might as well win the lottery.
Thats what I thought as I stared at my bland cereal, with it's pale soy milk. The house creaked around me in early morning winds, other residents yet to wake. A scrap of song passed through my mind with a faint reminiscence, like the smallest wiff of a fragrance once worn by some forgotten lover, long passed.
Shit. It was hardly fair. I could hear the grains of snow beat against the old, warped glass panes of the windows. Virtually see the frosty breath of winter's wrathe creep in through the cracks around the doors and windows, between the ceiling and the wall. It was like some inevitable shadow-thing from a horror movie. Back when they allowed such things.
And still all was bland. It occured to me that this entire house represented the state of things; the state of the state, if you wish. I don't need to spell out the metaphor for you, at least I shouldn't. Unless you're dim on chems, but then, it's unlikely you'd be reading this anyway...
Fuck. It's all so redundant. My downcast eyes blinked away their glaze. I think my 'milk' was forming ice crystals. It had to be warmer in the battered old fridge then it was in this damn dining room. I wanted to crawl back into bed, to dream of a time and place before things were in a state of rotting undeath. It was all so fucking rediculous.
But no. I had to shovel the walks, at three in the morning. Two feet of snow outside, blizzard conditions and I have to shovel two miles to the work site. It wasn't going to happen. I knew it. The house coordinator knew it. If I failed, I would have my rations cut and... it didn't really matter anymore. What really pissed me off was Mally should've been the one to shovel today, but she was eating out that cunt of a coordinaters cunt, so she got all sorts of benefits. It would've been kinky, but it wasn't.
Honestly though, nobody should have to shovel. None of us should have fucking been here in the first place. But here we were. Because there wasn't really an alternative, unless you wanted to rot in the wastes. 'Course, we were rotting here all the same.
It was hard to resist the temptation to just kill them all in their sleep. I'd be doing them a favor, right? Even Brendon, and he was only twelve. Poor kid. Wasn't fair to him to be born into this world. Not like any of us are given a choice to be born.
Some of them deserved it. Some of them didn't. But instead of stabbing the coordinator in the eyes with my spoon, I thought about the wastes. Gated off. Patrolled. Guarded. There were the rumors of course, colonies spread out there, living free, more or less. It was hard to tell if they were spread by trolls or the centgov.
Fuck it. I was dead if I stayed here. And freezing to death out there didn't seem so bad anymore. I took what was mine, and stole the snowshoes. There was only one pair, for the coordinator. Fuck that whore.
The fence to the wastes laid two miles behind the house. A hundred paces out I thought I heard the entire thing crash down behind me; it was hard to tell over the wind. Probably just my imagination. Probably.
I got the the fence and it was halfway blown over with snow, like some sort of one way ramp. An open invitation, just for me. There's more to living than just being alive.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Silath, Chapter 2
The ship rumbled as it broke atmosphere, shaking the soldiers around me in their restraints. I gripped the bar above me tighter, spreading my legs wider as I looked at the face of each Decale unit. They looked confident and ready, pointed ears perked in alertness. The third officer (I believe his name was Kaln) was speaking with his Charge. I couldn't hear them over the roar.
There are not many ranks within the Nith forces. In the case of a ground assualt, a third officer commands nine other soldiers, three of them being Decale Charge, a sort of second-in-command and specialist. The other six are simply Decale; basic combat units. A second officer is in charge of several of these ten-man squads, usually five, and a first officer oversees a band of second officers. Servas operate similarly, but their area of expertise is on equipment operation; not combat.
I relaxed as we broke atmosphere, the ride smoothing considerably. I gazed out the windshield of the ship, the Grassling world below us. We would be among the first to land, hundreds of other ships launched from the fleet right behind us.
The Decale were all clad in ceramic armor, painted a dark green, a backpack held between their knees. Magazine pouches, radio, and a long bayonette dangled from belts around their waists, five of them holding a short automatic rifle in their laps. On their right thigh was an automatic pistol, with magazines for it on their left thigh. Covered in armor and weapons, each was a fearsome sight. The other three were the Decale Charge; one carrying a scoped, long range rifle, the other two lugging light machine-guns.
I was clad in similar armor, although mine was a dark red, the same color as that of the Farin's Claw armor. I carried the same pistol and rifle as the other soldiers. Both were accurate, reliable, and relativly lightweight, using polymer and aluminum parts where possible.
The pilot turned from his seat and shouted, informing us that landfall outside the city would occur in just under three minutes. I nodded in reply, turning to peer out the windscreen. We had slowed to about five-hundred miles an hour, slowly dropping in speed. I gazed at the land speeding beneath us; flat plains, occupied by high grasses and trees along rivers and streams. Off in the distance rose mountains; nothing spectacilur.
The Grasslings had earned their name due to their tendancy to inhabit these vast plains. The grass that covered them was prickly and tough, which was probably why the Grasslings themselves were covered in a thick, scaly hide. It would be hell to walk through with fur, but vehicles would be dropped shortly after we arrived on the ground.
The meta-plan for occupation of the Grassling world was simple; the first task was to take command of the major cities dotted across the plains. Once this domination of the major urban areas was complete, trade and barter would largely be under our control. The second task would be to send expidiotanary forces from the cities into the surrounding farmlands, securing food and other neccesary resources. Third, we would tackle the smaller towns in the higher elevations, nestled withing the coniferous forests their.
It seemed the Grasslings had not thought the large rainforests encompassing vast portions of the souther continents worth inhabiting, likely due to the difficulties of comabating the environment there. We, however, would waist no time in setting the Grasslings to work harvesting resources across their world.
The ship slowed as a city came into view, sprawled across the side of one of the many small lakes dotting the plains. Calling it a city hardly seemed fair, now that I was able to see it in person. In Nith standards, it would hardly qualify as a backwoods town; estimates placed the population at roughly thirty-thousand. The buildings were mostly earthen, consisting of sod with wooden reinforcement. Here and there larger buildings arose, two, three, or even four stories tall and made of sun-baked clay bricks. A large earthen berm and ditch surrounded the city, offering a basic sort of defence.
Twenty-nine other ships would be landing with us on this city, circling and trapping it's inhabitants against the shores of the lake. One hundred-to-One odds were not favourable, but we were certain that once we showed our superior tactical strength, fear would even the odds.
We had discovered thirty-nine of these major cities, with three hundred Decale being sent to each. The initial assualt wave would be a little under twelve-thousand troops. Eight-thousand more sat in reserve aboard the fleet's four personnel carriers (Each holding five-thousand Decale)
The dropship hovered and began to descend as the third officer ordered the other men to sling on their packs, double check their weapons, and attach bayonets. A jolt ran through the ship as it touched the ground, the large door lowering and offering a ramp to exit. The officer headed to the ramp, the other Decale getting to their feet to follow. I watched in interest. A few hours earlier I had told the officer I would allow him to be completely autonomous of my commands; I wanted him to behave as if I weren't there.
Calling over his back as his feet touched the Grassling soil for the first time, the officer called out to his men.
"Remember! If they're too close, stab, then shoot. Don't waste your time targeting something charging at you from feet away! Stab em, shoot em, then on to the next!"
A chorus of "Yes, third officer!" rang out and the Decale descended, spreading into a semi-circle on the ground. I followed, and as we moved out of range of the blast of the dropship's thrusters it took off once more into the sky. Within an hour it would be back, this time toting a Scythe; a six-wheeled armored vehicle for the squads use.
We had landed about a mile from the outskirts of the city. I suspected that soon Grasslings would begin to appear; curiosity often overwhelmed fear, at least in the beggining. The third officer began giving orders to clear an area of the two foot tall grass to wait in until the Scythe arrived. The Decale began to trample and cut the weeds with their bayonettes.
After a few minutes, the Third-Officer's radio crackled, the planet's atmosphere messing with the transmission slightly. It would be the Second-Officer in command of this squad and four others checking in.
"All squads city one, segment one, this is command. Report landfall status, recieved?"
The Third-Officer, Kaln, slid his radio from it's pouch and spoke.
"Command, recieved, this is sqaud one. Landfall succesful, awaiting Sycthe delivery, end."
A moment passed while the transmission travelled through to the command ship.
"Squad one, recieved. Advisor Silath is with you, correct?"
I rolled my eyes as the Third-Officer looked to me and shrugged. I nodded to him.
"Command, that is correct." he paused for a moment, then continued. "I've been told by the Advisor that she and squad one are 'independant entities'. All appropriate radio traffic should be relayed to her, recieve?"
"Squad one, recieved. Await orders . End transmission."
I could have sworn I heard a chuckle in the Second-Officers voice. I looked down at my own radio and debated turning it off.
Over the next minute the other four squads all reported in succesful landfalls. As we awaited delivery of the Scythe, a few Grasslings appeared in the distance, peering at us. The crowd slowly grew, and radio chatter confirmed that similar circumstances were happening at nearly every landfall site. The creatures had finally begun to creep closer, althout still a good quarter-mile away, when the dropship arrived carrying the Scythe, sending the Grasslings scrambling.
"Alright, everyone climb aboard." Third-Officer Kaln called out, heading for the passenger gunner seat. "Time to enjoy ourselves."
The Scythe bristled with weapons; a light machine-gun in front of the passengers seat, a medium machine-gun on each side of the squad compartment, and an automatic grenade launcher in a turret on top. Plated in a thicker, heavier version of the dark-green ceramic armor Decale troops wore, it would be impossible for Grasslings to take down.
As one of the Decale began to climb into the top turret, I snatched his tail and dragged him back down.
"I was thinking I might have a little fun first, if you don't mind terribly?"
The Decale shook his head, averting his eyes.
"Of course not, Advisor. It would be our honor."
I smiled and shook his armored shoulder before climbing up into the turret. Loading the weapon, I rotated the turret in the direction of the Grasslings, who had regathered into a group about half a mile away. Tilting the barrel upwards, I let off a string of five rounds, the thumping sound pleasant to my ears. A second later, the rounds hit, exploding at their feet, and subsequently blowing them off, along with various other body parts. It would be an interesting day.
There are not many ranks within the Nith forces. In the case of a ground assualt, a third officer commands nine other soldiers, three of them being Decale Charge, a sort of second-in-command and specialist. The other six are simply Decale; basic combat units. A second officer is in charge of several of these ten-man squads, usually five, and a first officer oversees a band of second officers. Servas operate similarly, but their area of expertise is on equipment operation; not combat.
I relaxed as we broke atmosphere, the ride smoothing considerably. I gazed out the windshield of the ship, the Grassling world below us. We would be among the first to land, hundreds of other ships launched from the fleet right behind us.
The Decale were all clad in ceramic armor, painted a dark green, a backpack held between their knees. Magazine pouches, radio, and a long bayonette dangled from belts around their waists, five of them holding a short automatic rifle in their laps. On their right thigh was an automatic pistol, with magazines for it on their left thigh. Covered in armor and weapons, each was a fearsome sight. The other three were the Decale Charge; one carrying a scoped, long range rifle, the other two lugging light machine-guns.
I was clad in similar armor, although mine was a dark red, the same color as that of the Farin's Claw armor. I carried the same pistol and rifle as the other soldiers. Both were accurate, reliable, and relativly lightweight, using polymer and aluminum parts where possible.
The pilot turned from his seat and shouted, informing us that landfall outside the city would occur in just under three minutes. I nodded in reply, turning to peer out the windscreen. We had slowed to about five-hundred miles an hour, slowly dropping in speed. I gazed at the land speeding beneath us; flat plains, occupied by high grasses and trees along rivers and streams. Off in the distance rose mountains; nothing spectacilur.
The Grasslings had earned their name due to their tendancy to inhabit these vast plains. The grass that covered them was prickly and tough, which was probably why the Grasslings themselves were covered in a thick, scaly hide. It would be hell to walk through with fur, but vehicles would be dropped shortly after we arrived on the ground.
The meta-plan for occupation of the Grassling world was simple; the first task was to take command of the major cities dotted across the plains. Once this domination of the major urban areas was complete, trade and barter would largely be under our control. The second task would be to send expidiotanary forces from the cities into the surrounding farmlands, securing food and other neccesary resources. Third, we would tackle the smaller towns in the higher elevations, nestled withing the coniferous forests their.
It seemed the Grasslings had not thought the large rainforests encompassing vast portions of the souther continents worth inhabiting, likely due to the difficulties of comabating the environment there. We, however, would waist no time in setting the Grasslings to work harvesting resources across their world.
The ship slowed as a city came into view, sprawled across the side of one of the many small lakes dotting the plains. Calling it a city hardly seemed fair, now that I was able to see it in person. In Nith standards, it would hardly qualify as a backwoods town; estimates placed the population at roughly thirty-thousand. The buildings were mostly earthen, consisting of sod with wooden reinforcement. Here and there larger buildings arose, two, three, or even four stories tall and made of sun-baked clay bricks. A large earthen berm and ditch surrounded the city, offering a basic sort of defence.
Twenty-nine other ships would be landing with us on this city, circling and trapping it's inhabitants against the shores of the lake. One hundred-to-One odds were not favourable, but we were certain that once we showed our superior tactical strength, fear would even the odds.
We had discovered thirty-nine of these major cities, with three hundred Decale being sent to each. The initial assualt wave would be a little under twelve-thousand troops. Eight-thousand more sat in reserve aboard the fleet's four personnel carriers (Each holding five-thousand Decale)
The dropship hovered and began to descend as the third officer ordered the other men to sling on their packs, double check their weapons, and attach bayonets. A jolt ran through the ship as it touched the ground, the large door lowering and offering a ramp to exit. The officer headed to the ramp, the other Decale getting to their feet to follow. I watched in interest. A few hours earlier I had told the officer I would allow him to be completely autonomous of my commands; I wanted him to behave as if I weren't there.
Calling over his back as his feet touched the Grassling soil for the first time, the officer called out to his men.
"Remember! If they're too close, stab, then shoot. Don't waste your time targeting something charging at you from feet away! Stab em, shoot em, then on to the next!"
A chorus of "Yes, third officer!" rang out and the Decale descended, spreading into a semi-circle on the ground. I followed, and as we moved out of range of the blast of the dropship's thrusters it took off once more into the sky. Within an hour it would be back, this time toting a Scythe; a six-wheeled armored vehicle for the squads use.
We had landed about a mile from the outskirts of the city. I suspected that soon Grasslings would begin to appear; curiosity often overwhelmed fear, at least in the beggining. The third officer began giving orders to clear an area of the two foot tall grass to wait in until the Scythe arrived. The Decale began to trample and cut the weeds with their bayonettes.
After a few minutes, the Third-Officer's radio crackled, the planet's atmosphere messing with the transmission slightly. It would be the Second-Officer in command of this squad and four others checking in.
"All squads city one, segment one, this is command. Report landfall status, recieved?"
The Third-Officer, Kaln, slid his radio from it's pouch and spoke.
"Command, recieved, this is sqaud one. Landfall succesful, awaiting Sycthe delivery, end."
A moment passed while the transmission travelled through to the command ship.
"Squad one, recieved. Advisor Silath is with you, correct?"
I rolled my eyes as the Third-Officer looked to me and shrugged. I nodded to him.
"Command, that is correct." he paused for a moment, then continued. "I've been told by the Advisor that she and squad one are 'independant entities'. All appropriate radio traffic should be relayed to her, recieve?"
"Squad one, recieved. Await orders . End transmission."
I could have sworn I heard a chuckle in the Second-Officers voice. I looked down at my own radio and debated turning it off.
Over the next minute the other four squads all reported in succesful landfalls. As we awaited delivery of the Scythe, a few Grasslings appeared in the distance, peering at us. The crowd slowly grew, and radio chatter confirmed that similar circumstances were happening at nearly every landfall site. The creatures had finally begun to creep closer, althout still a good quarter-mile away, when the dropship arrived carrying the Scythe, sending the Grasslings scrambling.
"Alright, everyone climb aboard." Third-Officer Kaln called out, heading for the passenger gunner seat. "Time to enjoy ourselves."
The Scythe bristled with weapons; a light machine-gun in front of the passengers seat, a medium machine-gun on each side of the squad compartment, and an automatic grenade launcher in a turret on top. Plated in a thicker, heavier version of the dark-green ceramic armor Decale troops wore, it would be impossible for Grasslings to take down.
As one of the Decale began to climb into the top turret, I snatched his tail and dragged him back down.
"I was thinking I might have a little fun first, if you don't mind terribly?"
The Decale shook his head, averting his eyes.
"Of course not, Advisor. It would be our honor."
I smiled and shook his armored shoulder before climbing up into the turret. Loading the weapon, I rotated the turret in the direction of the Grasslings, who had regathered into a group about half a mile away. Tilting the barrel upwards, I let off a string of five rounds, the thumping sound pleasant to my ears. A second later, the rounds hit, exploding at their feet, and subsequently blowing them off, along with various other body parts. It would be an interesting day.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Silath - Chapter 1
(Copying from wordpad seems to destroy my tabs, so please excuse the lack of paragraph structure)
Chapter 1
I watched as the short, hairless, squat beast wriggled, suspended upside down and dangling from a rope. It's snub, wrinkled face showed fear, or at least what I suspected to be fear. More like outright terror really, which was odd to me; surely it knew it's time was at an end, that there was no escape. Why not accept death, cast aside the fear and be done with it.
Grasslings. Compared the the Nith, they were so very pathetic, but to be fair their species was some many years younger than ours, their planet far smaller, their resources far more limited. Still and all, they had become the most dominant race, had formed primitive governments and cities, and even begun to forge weapons from basic metals. Given proper genetic sampling and observation, followed by appropriate breeding and domestication, their use as slave labor would be invaluable.
I did have to admire them in one aspect; their tenacity and fighting spirit were wild (at least in engagements with species of their own kind; we Nith had yet to face of with them), but it was untempered by discipline and control. The Grassling's rage was a bonfire, not a focused, white-hot flame that was instilled within our own Decale troops. I gazed at it's face once more, looking for that rage. There was none.
In the end it was estimated that it would simply be quicker to send down ground troops than to take the time to engineer a virus specific to the Grassling's genes. I was thankful to the genticists for reaching such a conclusion; even if our foes were technologically inferior, I still relished the thought of meeting them in battle.
The stench of the thing penetrated my thoughts, and I gazed at it in disgust. It's skin was thick, oily, and scaly. Quite disgusting, compared the the long, silken fur of a Nith, accentuated by our lean, lithe bodies. But then, our environments were quite different. From a standing of personal taste, I was disgusted that we had bothered sending and entire fleet to this planet, but the Kalsan had ordered it, and so it was set to be done. As an advisor to the Kalsan, it was my duty to attend. In truth I was pleased to be given the assignment, no matter how easy it would prove to be.
And being on the first Nithian battleship was no small wonder in itself. The Farin's Claw was a feet of engineering; One-hundred, twenty-one thousand tons of steel structure, ceramic armor, and massive firepower. Really, the ship could wipe out every living creature on the planet, but that was not our purpose here.
Still, every time I thought about it, it gave me chills. The smooth curves of the crimson ceramic armor plating gleaming light from the sun, broken only by launch ports on each side, the bow curving down sharply from the top into a sharp point, row upon row of missile bay underneath. If ever there was a ship worthy of a gods name, the Farin's Claw was it.
I would apologize for rambling, but if you've ever seen the beast then you would understand. Besides, I've never been one for needless apologies. Speaking of myself, I suppose I should offer a description, as I am not quite you're typical Nith. I am taller and leaner than most of our species, seven feet and 2 inches, one-hundred and fifty-four pounds. My muzzle is longer and sharper than most, my eyes smaller and more narrow. My fur is a coal-grey, with a streak of dull silver extending from the tip of my muzzle, down my back, to the tip of my tail. Nith have an average height of around six feet, an average weight of about one-hundred and fifty pounds. The color of fur ranges anywhere from red-brown to midnight black. Us females of the Nith race are generally taller and more sharply featured than the males, but my physcial form seems to have taken that to extremes.
The overall effect, of which I am quite proud, is that if it were possible for a Nith to be a dagger, than a dagger I would be. I am just over seventeen years old; The average age of our kind is fourty-six years, without medical assistance; with medical assistance, it's closer to seventy. None of us wish to live that long, unless absolutely neccesary. The ruling five members of the Kalsan have been known to extend their lives as long as needed, if a suitable replacement cannot be found before natural death would have occured.
Puberty begins around the age of six, and lasts two years. By age eight, a Nith is treated as an adult. To put it simply; we grow up fast.
Other than that, we Nith are not afraid to die when our time is at an end. 'If it is so, it is because the gods willed it so.' is a saying we all live by. Do not misunderstand; we do not think our gods omnipresent and omnipotent, but certainly they are wiser and more powerful than we.
I trailed a claw down the Grassling's stomach, it's oil smearing onto the textured pad of my fingertip. My claws were unsually sharp for a Nith; I had them filed and sealed with a tough epoxy. It pierced the Grassling's flesh, drawing a bead of watery, pale blood. Drawing my claw downwards, I cut through it's hide and layer of fat, just above the muscle, stopping at the creatures breastbone. It wailed and roared in it's guttural tongue at me; no matter which dialect you listened to, they all sounded the same. Again, I thought of our supiority as a species. Our language was so much more delicate and smooth, rolling off the tongue in an exquisite manner.
Blood pattered onto the deck of the ship, pooling on the steel and reflecting the lights muddily. My first actual encounter with a sentient alien race, and this was all to see. I was dissapointed. Slaughtering them would be fun, though, and the thought brought a wicked smile to my face. I parted my muzzle, tongue flicking out to lick my bloodied claw. Grassling blood was bitter, salty, and tasted strongly of copper.
I found it to my liking. Soon there would be enough spilled to drown myself in. Reaching down once more with a claw, I slit the Grassling's throat and slid under it, letting the blood drip into my muzzle, arterial spurts splashing some onto my chest and neck. Unfortunately I was interrupted, a polite knock sounding on the hatch. Sighing, I left my helpless pray to it's fate and released the latch. On the other side stood a very stiff Servas officer, who promptly thumped his right fist to his chest in salute. Dressed in a Servas officers synthetic uniform of light grey (as opposed to a Decale's dark green), he was the epitome of the proper officer. He waited patiently just outside the doorway.
Blood coating the fur of my throat, I grinned at him.
"Second Officer Leehan. What can I do for you today?"
"Advisor Silath" Leehan replied, "Commander Relethan sent me. He apologizes for the interruption, but it's urgent."
"It's fine, fine." I said, still bloodied and naked, smiling happily. At first glance everyone on the ship knew me, and not a one would dare comment on my choice of dress. I could go out wearing strips of flesh and not recieve a single whispered comment. One did not comment on the dress style of an advisor, not if they wished to keep their life. I did as I wished.
"As for the Grassling, Advisor?" Leehan asked, casting disdainful eyes on the bloody, furless thing dangling loosesly above the floor.
"Give him to the cooks. The Decale love fresh meat. Serve it to the first squadron scheduled to make landfall." I walked out of the room, bare claws clicking on the metallic floor. Leehan followed hastily behind.
Regulation footwear is synthetic, non-slip, non-conductive chemical resistance synthetic soles with heavy nylon uppers and ceramic toes. They are virtually silent on the deck; so when the crew hears the click of claws, they know it is me. And subsequently they made way and thumped their chest very snappily. I smiled and nodded at all of them, wondering how many of them were secreting glances at my graceful, blood spattered body. Probably none... they would all be too scared shitless by me. Most saw my constantly cheerfull mood as pyschotic, and to be honest with myself, I had to admit that perhaps it was.
I began to sing a tune as I walked, something victorious armies had sung while marching through conquered towns since time immemorable.
"We've burned your fields and killed your men,
Raped your woman and taken your land,
You fought like sheep against the wolves,
We slaughtered your army and broke their backs!
Cast down your eyes conquered ones,
Before you marches the army of death!
Their blood has washed the dust from my throat,
Their bones lie to rot in the grain,
Their shields shattered under my blade,
And now your lives belong to me!"
I managed to finish five renditions before I arrived at the bridge. I brushed away Leehan's hands as he tried to open the hatch for me. Sometimes such efforts of etiquette amused me; sometimes they were just annoying. Stepping inside, I could see Commander Relethan bending over a table, the glow of the display lighting his face. Several other officers imitated him.
I knew what Leehan was going to do before he even had his fist to his chest. I clamped a hand over his mouth, claws pricking his skin through the fur.
"Let me do it." I whispered in his ear. The second officer nodded his head slightly, confusion in his eyes. Coughing once, I breathed deeply before bellowing out in a growling voice, quite in contrast with our language,
"Advisor Silath on deck!"
Immediatly everyone in the room snapped to their feet, stiff as a board, and thumped their fists to their chest in salute. I looked about sternly for a few moments before a grin broke through, spreading across my muzzle. Shaking my head in amusement, I headed to Relethan, waving a hand for everyone to relax. They all stayed stiff, aside from the commander; slowly the others followed suit, looking at eachother nervously. It was obvious they were unused to my prescence.
"Commander Relethan, I would be most pleased to hear that you've interrupted me because the invasion is about to begin?" I smiled my most wicked smile at him.
The commander straightened his back uncomfortably, taking a half step away. I had to restrain a chuckle as the thought passed that any officer was as much a politician as a soldier.
"Thank you for coming so quickly and on such short notice. I apologize for interupting your..." he glanced at the dried blood on the fur of my throat and chest, "...Meal. But that is correct, Advisor. In a little under an hour, to be precise; I thought you would want to be here when it was launched"
I raised an eyebrow. "Really, Relathan, I'm dissapointed. You should know me better than that. I'll be on the first dropship out, of course."
The commander was silent for a moment, then bowed his head. "Of course, as you wish Advisor. Please excuse me."
"Try to think outside the box a bit more, commander. It would do you well." I peered into his eyes, and he peered right back. Interesting. And was that a slight smirk I detected? Maybe he was worthy of commanding a ship such as this.
"I'll try my best to take your advice to heart, Advisor. I wasn't aware you would be going into battle yourself. You're aware of the assualt plans?"
"Of course." I had made the decision to leave the planning entirely in his hands, mostly to gauge his capabilities first-hand as an officer.
Since childhood I had been raised to become an Advisor, possibly eventually a member of the Kalsan, and so was well within my rights to challenge any of Relethans decisions. From the moment I'd first glanced his invasion plans, I had gained a level of respect for the man.
"Good hunting, Commander." I grasped his shoulder and squeezed, taking care not to prick his uniform with my claws. His eyebrows raised slightly at the contact, but otherwise elicited no reaction.
"And to you, Advisor." he replied. With that, I turned and made my way out of the bridge, tail swishing behind me.
Chapter 1
I watched as the short, hairless, squat beast wriggled, suspended upside down and dangling from a rope. It's snub, wrinkled face showed fear, or at least what I suspected to be fear. More like outright terror really, which was odd to me; surely it knew it's time was at an end, that there was no escape. Why not accept death, cast aside the fear and be done with it.
Grasslings. Compared the the Nith, they were so very pathetic, but to be fair their species was some many years younger than ours, their planet far smaller, their resources far more limited. Still and all, they had become the most dominant race, had formed primitive governments and cities, and even begun to forge weapons from basic metals. Given proper genetic sampling and observation, followed by appropriate breeding and domestication, their use as slave labor would be invaluable.
I did have to admire them in one aspect; their tenacity and fighting spirit were wild (at least in engagements with species of their own kind; we Nith had yet to face of with them), but it was untempered by discipline and control. The Grassling's rage was a bonfire, not a focused, white-hot flame that was instilled within our own Decale troops. I gazed at it's face once more, looking for that rage. There was none.
In the end it was estimated that it would simply be quicker to send down ground troops than to take the time to engineer a virus specific to the Grassling's genes. I was thankful to the genticists for reaching such a conclusion; even if our foes were technologically inferior, I still relished the thought of meeting them in battle.
The stench of the thing penetrated my thoughts, and I gazed at it in disgust. It's skin was thick, oily, and scaly. Quite disgusting, compared the the long, silken fur of a Nith, accentuated by our lean, lithe bodies. But then, our environments were quite different. From a standing of personal taste, I was disgusted that we had bothered sending and entire fleet to this planet, but the Kalsan had ordered it, and so it was set to be done. As an advisor to the Kalsan, it was my duty to attend. In truth I was pleased to be given the assignment, no matter how easy it would prove to be.
And being on the first Nithian battleship was no small wonder in itself. The Farin's Claw was a feet of engineering; One-hundred, twenty-one thousand tons of steel structure, ceramic armor, and massive firepower. Really, the ship could wipe out every living creature on the planet, but that was not our purpose here.
Still, every time I thought about it, it gave me chills. The smooth curves of the crimson ceramic armor plating gleaming light from the sun, broken only by launch ports on each side, the bow curving down sharply from the top into a sharp point, row upon row of missile bay underneath. If ever there was a ship worthy of a gods name, the Farin's Claw was it.
I would apologize for rambling, but if you've ever seen the beast then you would understand. Besides, I've never been one for needless apologies. Speaking of myself, I suppose I should offer a description, as I am not quite you're typical Nith. I am taller and leaner than most of our species, seven feet and 2 inches, one-hundred and fifty-four pounds. My muzzle is longer and sharper than most, my eyes smaller and more narrow. My fur is a coal-grey, with a streak of dull silver extending from the tip of my muzzle, down my back, to the tip of my tail. Nith have an average height of around six feet, an average weight of about one-hundred and fifty pounds. The color of fur ranges anywhere from red-brown to midnight black. Us females of the Nith race are generally taller and more sharply featured than the males, but my physcial form seems to have taken that to extremes.
The overall effect, of which I am quite proud, is that if it were possible for a Nith to be a dagger, than a dagger I would be. I am just over seventeen years old; The average age of our kind is fourty-six years, without medical assistance; with medical assistance, it's closer to seventy. None of us wish to live that long, unless absolutely neccesary. The ruling five members of the Kalsan have been known to extend their lives as long as needed, if a suitable replacement cannot be found before natural death would have occured.
Puberty begins around the age of six, and lasts two years. By age eight, a Nith is treated as an adult. To put it simply; we grow up fast.
Other than that, we Nith are not afraid to die when our time is at an end. 'If it is so, it is because the gods willed it so.' is a saying we all live by. Do not misunderstand; we do not think our gods omnipresent and omnipotent, but certainly they are wiser and more powerful than we.
I trailed a claw down the Grassling's stomach, it's oil smearing onto the textured pad of my fingertip. My claws were unsually sharp for a Nith; I had them filed and sealed with a tough epoxy. It pierced the Grassling's flesh, drawing a bead of watery, pale blood. Drawing my claw downwards, I cut through it's hide and layer of fat, just above the muscle, stopping at the creatures breastbone. It wailed and roared in it's guttural tongue at me; no matter which dialect you listened to, they all sounded the same. Again, I thought of our supiority as a species. Our language was so much more delicate and smooth, rolling off the tongue in an exquisite manner.
Blood pattered onto the deck of the ship, pooling on the steel and reflecting the lights muddily. My first actual encounter with a sentient alien race, and this was all to see. I was dissapointed. Slaughtering them would be fun, though, and the thought brought a wicked smile to my face. I parted my muzzle, tongue flicking out to lick my bloodied claw. Grassling blood was bitter, salty, and tasted strongly of copper.
I found it to my liking. Soon there would be enough spilled to drown myself in. Reaching down once more with a claw, I slit the Grassling's throat and slid under it, letting the blood drip into my muzzle, arterial spurts splashing some onto my chest and neck. Unfortunately I was interrupted, a polite knock sounding on the hatch. Sighing, I left my helpless pray to it's fate and released the latch. On the other side stood a very stiff Servas officer, who promptly thumped his right fist to his chest in salute. Dressed in a Servas officers synthetic uniform of light grey (as opposed to a Decale's dark green), he was the epitome of the proper officer. He waited patiently just outside the doorway.
Blood coating the fur of my throat, I grinned at him.
"Second Officer Leehan. What can I do for you today?"
"Advisor Silath" Leehan replied, "Commander Relethan sent me. He apologizes for the interruption, but it's urgent."
"It's fine, fine." I said, still bloodied and naked, smiling happily. At first glance everyone on the ship knew me, and not a one would dare comment on my choice of dress. I could go out wearing strips of flesh and not recieve a single whispered comment. One did not comment on the dress style of an advisor, not if they wished to keep their life. I did as I wished.
"As for the Grassling, Advisor?" Leehan asked, casting disdainful eyes on the bloody, furless thing dangling loosesly above the floor.
"Give him to the cooks. The Decale love fresh meat. Serve it to the first squadron scheduled to make landfall." I walked out of the room, bare claws clicking on the metallic floor. Leehan followed hastily behind.
Regulation footwear is synthetic, non-slip, non-conductive chemical resistance synthetic soles with heavy nylon uppers and ceramic toes. They are virtually silent on the deck; so when the crew hears the click of claws, they know it is me. And subsequently they made way and thumped their chest very snappily. I smiled and nodded at all of them, wondering how many of them were secreting glances at my graceful, blood spattered body. Probably none... they would all be too scared shitless by me. Most saw my constantly cheerfull mood as pyschotic, and to be honest with myself, I had to admit that perhaps it was.
I began to sing a tune as I walked, something victorious armies had sung while marching through conquered towns since time immemorable.
"We've burned your fields and killed your men,
Raped your woman and taken your land,
You fought like sheep against the wolves,
We slaughtered your army and broke their backs!
Cast down your eyes conquered ones,
Before you marches the army of death!
Their blood has washed the dust from my throat,
Their bones lie to rot in the grain,
Their shields shattered under my blade,
And now your lives belong to me!"
I managed to finish five renditions before I arrived at the bridge. I brushed away Leehan's hands as he tried to open the hatch for me. Sometimes such efforts of etiquette amused me; sometimes they were just annoying. Stepping inside, I could see Commander Relethan bending over a table, the glow of the display lighting his face. Several other officers imitated him.
I knew what Leehan was going to do before he even had his fist to his chest. I clamped a hand over his mouth, claws pricking his skin through the fur.
"Let me do it." I whispered in his ear. The second officer nodded his head slightly, confusion in his eyes. Coughing once, I breathed deeply before bellowing out in a growling voice, quite in contrast with our language,
"Advisor Silath on deck!"
Immediatly everyone in the room snapped to their feet, stiff as a board, and thumped their fists to their chest in salute. I looked about sternly for a few moments before a grin broke through, spreading across my muzzle. Shaking my head in amusement, I headed to Relethan, waving a hand for everyone to relax. They all stayed stiff, aside from the commander; slowly the others followed suit, looking at eachother nervously. It was obvious they were unused to my prescence.
"Commander Relethan, I would be most pleased to hear that you've interrupted me because the invasion is about to begin?" I smiled my most wicked smile at him.
The commander straightened his back uncomfortably, taking a half step away. I had to restrain a chuckle as the thought passed that any officer was as much a politician as a soldier.
"Thank you for coming so quickly and on such short notice. I apologize for interupting your..." he glanced at the dried blood on the fur of my throat and chest, "...Meal. But that is correct, Advisor. In a little under an hour, to be precise; I thought you would want to be here when it was launched"
I raised an eyebrow. "Really, Relathan, I'm dissapointed. You should know me better than that. I'll be on the first dropship out, of course."
The commander was silent for a moment, then bowed his head. "Of course, as you wish Advisor. Please excuse me."
"Try to think outside the box a bit more, commander. It would do you well." I peered into his eyes, and he peered right back. Interesting. And was that a slight smirk I detected? Maybe he was worthy of commanding a ship such as this.
"I'll try my best to take your advice to heart, Advisor. I wasn't aware you would be going into battle yourself. You're aware of the assualt plans?"
"Of course." I had made the decision to leave the planning entirely in his hands, mostly to gauge his capabilities first-hand as an officer.
Since childhood I had been raised to become an Advisor, possibly eventually a member of the Kalsan, and so was well within my rights to challenge any of Relethans decisions. From the moment I'd first glanced his invasion plans, I had gained a level of respect for the man.
"Good hunting, Commander." I grasped his shoulder and squeezed, taking care not to prick his uniform with my claws. His eyebrows raised slightly at the contact, but otherwise elicited no reaction.
"And to you, Advisor." he replied. With that, I turned and made my way out of the bridge, tail swishing behind me.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Enter: Dusk.
Enter; Dusk. Ashen shadows swirling under the rustling leaves. A ghost of shadow steps from the misty half-light and in it's visage all the dark things of the soul are known; longing, regret, desire, the calling of a sanguine night.
Wild violence pulls on the strings of the deeper mind like chords struck in a song of the subconscious, with no purpose but that of feeling alive, of hunting and chasing and consuming like a wild thing, a dark beast in a dark forest.
Wild violence pulls on the strings of the deeper mind like chords struck in a song of the subconscious, with no purpose but that of feeling alive, of hunting and chasing and consuming like a wild thing, a dark beast in a dark forest.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
More record keeping.
I've got that feeling again, the one that comes every few months. I'm inclined to say it's a sort of detachment, but I think the truth is quite the opposite. I look into the stars and see the possibilities that await us, A luminescent moon casting it's ashen shadows through the leaves of the trees.
It seems to conjure up a sense of power, or at least the desire for it; in a way more spiritual than corporeal. I find myself longing to be something greater than what I am, to serve my purposes. Patience because a necessity and burden in equally increasing amounts.
Violence calls and is retained only by the lack of a meaningful outlet. My body and mind yearn to feel truly alive, as opposed to the mundane and passive survival that is everyday life.
Meanwhile I allow little of this to seep through; aside from a slight rise in my eccentricities I am silent. A sight growl of annoyance where none would have been before, restless eyes.
A stronger sense of the spirit than is usual, to remind me that there are still things left undone.
Going backpacking will help some. It always seems to relieve the restlessness and unease. Meanwhile the days pass in hopes of change.
It seems to conjure up a sense of power, or at least the desire for it; in a way more spiritual than corporeal. I find myself longing to be something greater than what I am, to serve my purposes. Patience because a necessity and burden in equally increasing amounts.
Violence calls and is retained only by the lack of a meaningful outlet. My body and mind yearn to feel truly alive, as opposed to the mundane and passive survival that is everyday life.
Meanwhile I allow little of this to seep through; aside from a slight rise in my eccentricities I am silent. A sight growl of annoyance where none would have been before, restless eyes.
A stronger sense of the spirit than is usual, to remind me that there are still things left undone.
Going backpacking will help some. It always seems to relieve the restlessness and unease. Meanwhile the days pass in hopes of change.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Carte Blanche: Chapter One
Carte Blanche
Chapter 1
It was my dog that woke me up; a stocky, goofy black lab named Bailey. I rubbed my eyes, a bit of grit grinding into the skin before falling out, and then was assailed by a cold, wet nose to my cheek. I groaned and looked to the obnoxious beast: he stared back and wagged his tail. A glance at the bright red numbers on the clock revealed it to be eight minutes past two.
Being unemployed could really play havoc with your sleeping schedule. I didn't mind working, especially mindless physical jobs, but working with or beside people, well, that was a different story. I still had about five-hundred bucks left in my bank account from last years tax return. One benefit to making under five-thousand dollars is that you get all your taxes back. I'd spend random parts of the day pondering how to turn that five-hundred dollars into more money, but nothing ever seemed plausible. It sucked.
With a scratch under the chin for Bailey, I arose and began my usual routine: put on pajamas, a packet of green tea in the miniature coffee machine, three cups of water from the sink and set to brew. As the coffee maker gurgled tea into it's small pot, I awoke the computer to let MSN and Yahoo messenger auto-log in for me and started up Firefox.
That's when things got complicated.
A window immediately appeared, stuck with various official symbols all over the top, stating that internet access was to be "Restricted for the purposes of the public well-being and control of disinformation, terrorist communication, treasonous, and/or seditious material." Of course, there was a bunch more to read: provisions of the patriotic act, presidential and court approvals. At the bottom of the page was a list of websites approved for visitation; mostly news sites such as CNN, a few .gov sites, and various email providers. There was one search engine listed, something I had never heard of with a .gov ending on it.
My initial thought was that I had gotten a virus. I closed Firefox to be greeted by a disturbing message from my MSN and Yahoo messenger windows, both stating approximately the same thing: Government told us to suspend service, so we're suspending service.
If this was a virus, it was a damned good one. I leaned back, rubbed my face, and poured tea into my big mug, sliding the baggy out of the filter and plopping it in the cup. Water vapor steamed up, assuring me that either this was a very realistic dream, or I was, in fact, awake and conscious. Bailey had padded off elsewhere, content that he had awoken me from my slumber. I stood and went to the window, pulling the curtain aside to peer down at the driveway. Both cars were gone, presumably meaning my parents were at work. With a resigned sigh, I dug into my pants laying on the floor and pulled an eight gig flash drive from the key chain, shutting down my computer and then popping it into a USB port.
My finger was on the power button to start the machine back up when I paused, instead popping out the Plexiglas side panel and removing the cable connecting my internal SATA hard drive to the motherboard. If I really wanted to be sure this was a virus, it would be best to insure it couldn't mess with the Ubuntu installed on my USB drive. This accomplished, I booted up. Ubuntu did it's thing and in a minute I was on Firefox. Staring at the same screen that had greeted me when I had booted to Vista.
"Oh fuck me..." I breathed. Fingers shaking, I typed in the web address to 4chan, praying someone had merely hacked Google and set up a bogus page. No such luck: I was greeted with a bland message stating that 4chan was not on the approved list of visitable sites.
Cursing under my breath, I wished I had taken the time to get more than a basic familiarity with Linux. If I had the knowledge, I was sure I could circumvent this web-blockade. Since I didn't, I tried the one thing I did have: TOR, a routing program. No luck. This time, instead of a government message, it just gave me a 'Could not connect to server'.
With my means of internet communication effectively neutered, I gave in and clicked the link to CNN. The headline on the front page was simple and direct: "U.S., Europe Under Terrorist Attack"
The story was short, sweet, and to the point. Early this morning, hackers had broken into various Banking databases and started screwing with everything like kids in a candy store, or a bull in a china shop. Pick your metaphor. Shortly thereafter bombs had exploded at the sites of over a dozen server and database storage facilities, destroying any offline electronic backups.
The attacks had shut down any electronic transfer of funds, including various major stock markets. A few hours after that, similar electronic attacks began to occur. Cutting power to various sections of major cities, messing with traffic lights, government databases, DMV records, criminal records. There were even some instances of colleges and local schools being under electronic attack. The consensus seemed to be that the attacks on the banks were planned and organized; everything else was from people jumping in on the chaos.
In the end there was no real, hard info: just a tally of the damage done and vague assurances from the powers that be. There was no rioting, no trouble beyond the chaos of car crashes and planes crashing on the runways. The death toll was figured to be around seven-hundred. It was sad, but there'd been much worse in history.
At least for now. Most people were still at work or had been sent home. They might not be panicking now, but what about when they began to realize that their life savings had just been erased at the press of a key? More than that, all their debts had been erased as well? All their crimes, wiped from record. It was like everyone had been given a blank slate... for better or worse.
There was little more information to be had. I yearned to check something other than major news outlets, but it was impossible. Halfway through reading BBC's main story, the site 404'd. Someone had probably tried to shut it down. I gave up and headed to the shower.
As the hot water cascaded onto me, anger began to build into me. I'd always known it could happen, of course. And there'd been discussion on it, but still... locking down the internet! It felt so wrong; the last place for freedom had just been smashed. Infuriating. I wanted to slam my fist into the wall; instead, I slumped down into the tub.
What now, I thought. Would the world descend into an even more tyrannical state? Would things go back to the way they were? It seemed impossible. From all accounts, billions of files of information had been destroyed. Without information, data, without history, it was impossible to go back to the way we were. The logical, albeit depressing conclusion, was that the governments would take over. I shut off the water, toweled dry, put my pajamas back on and collapsed onto my inflatable mattress. What now?
The presidential address at eight brought even more bad news. I sat in quiet anticipation with my parents, glued to the T.V. He babbled on for a bit about how everything was going to be ok, and then the shitstorm started. Government takeover of banking, trade, fuel supplies and rationing, food distribution, and media. Law enforcement and military were to be stationed to ensure protection of valuable materials and prevent looting. Thousands of troops were being pulled from overseas to assist.
It was mind blowing. I had no idea what to do, how to fight back or how to stop this all from happening. It was like a darkness was enveloping the world, and I was powerless to stop it. That night, I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. One line ran through my head over and over: "Control of disinformation, terrorist communication, treasonous, and/or seditious material." Had the terrorists been trying to send an anti-government message?
Chapter 1
It was my dog that woke me up; a stocky, goofy black lab named Bailey. I rubbed my eyes, a bit of grit grinding into the skin before falling out, and then was assailed by a cold, wet nose to my cheek. I groaned and looked to the obnoxious beast: he stared back and wagged his tail. A glance at the bright red numbers on the clock revealed it to be eight minutes past two.
Being unemployed could really play havoc with your sleeping schedule. I didn't mind working, especially mindless physical jobs, but working with or beside people, well, that was a different story. I still had about five-hundred bucks left in my bank account from last years tax return. One benefit to making under five-thousand dollars is that you get all your taxes back. I'd spend random parts of the day pondering how to turn that five-hundred dollars into more money, but nothing ever seemed plausible. It sucked.
With a scratch under the chin for Bailey, I arose and began my usual routine: put on pajamas, a packet of green tea in the miniature coffee machine, three cups of water from the sink and set to brew. As the coffee maker gurgled tea into it's small pot, I awoke the computer to let MSN and Yahoo messenger auto-log in for me and started up Firefox.
That's when things got complicated.
A window immediately appeared, stuck with various official symbols all over the top, stating that internet access was to be "Restricted for the purposes of the public well-being and control of disinformation, terrorist communication, treasonous, and/or seditious material." Of course, there was a bunch more to read: provisions of the patriotic act, presidential and court approvals. At the bottom of the page was a list of websites approved for visitation; mostly news sites such as CNN, a few .gov sites, and various email providers. There was one search engine listed, something I had never heard of with a .gov ending on it.
My initial thought was that I had gotten a virus. I closed Firefox to be greeted by a disturbing message from my MSN and Yahoo messenger windows, both stating approximately the same thing: Government told us to suspend service, so we're suspending service.
If this was a virus, it was a damned good one. I leaned back, rubbed my face, and poured tea into my big mug, sliding the baggy out of the filter and plopping it in the cup. Water vapor steamed up, assuring me that either this was a very realistic dream, or I was, in fact, awake and conscious. Bailey had padded off elsewhere, content that he had awoken me from my slumber. I stood and went to the window, pulling the curtain aside to peer down at the driveway. Both cars were gone, presumably meaning my parents were at work. With a resigned sigh, I dug into my pants laying on the floor and pulled an eight gig flash drive from the key chain, shutting down my computer and then popping it into a USB port.
My finger was on the power button to start the machine back up when I paused, instead popping out the Plexiglas side panel and removing the cable connecting my internal SATA hard drive to the motherboard. If I really wanted to be sure this was a virus, it would be best to insure it couldn't mess with the Ubuntu installed on my USB drive. This accomplished, I booted up. Ubuntu did it's thing and in a minute I was on Firefox. Staring at the same screen that had greeted me when I had booted to Vista.
"Oh fuck me..." I breathed. Fingers shaking, I typed in the web address to 4chan, praying someone had merely hacked Google and set up a bogus page. No such luck: I was greeted with a bland message stating that 4chan was not on the approved list of visitable sites.
Cursing under my breath, I wished I had taken the time to get more than a basic familiarity with Linux. If I had the knowledge, I was sure I could circumvent this web-blockade. Since I didn't, I tried the one thing I did have: TOR, a routing program. No luck. This time, instead of a government message, it just gave me a 'Could not connect to server'.
With my means of internet communication effectively neutered, I gave in and clicked the link to CNN. The headline on the front page was simple and direct: "U.S., Europe Under Terrorist Attack"
The story was short, sweet, and to the point. Early this morning, hackers had broken into various Banking databases and started screwing with everything like kids in a candy store, or a bull in a china shop. Pick your metaphor. Shortly thereafter bombs had exploded at the sites of over a dozen server and database storage facilities, destroying any offline electronic backups.
The attacks had shut down any electronic transfer of funds, including various major stock markets. A few hours after that, similar electronic attacks began to occur. Cutting power to various sections of major cities, messing with traffic lights, government databases, DMV records, criminal records. There were even some instances of colleges and local schools being under electronic attack. The consensus seemed to be that the attacks on the banks were planned and organized; everything else was from people jumping in on the chaos.
In the end there was no real, hard info: just a tally of the damage done and vague assurances from the powers that be. There was no rioting, no trouble beyond the chaos of car crashes and planes crashing on the runways. The death toll was figured to be around seven-hundred. It was sad, but there'd been much worse in history.
At least for now. Most people were still at work or had been sent home. They might not be panicking now, but what about when they began to realize that their life savings had just been erased at the press of a key? More than that, all their debts had been erased as well? All their crimes, wiped from record. It was like everyone had been given a blank slate... for better or worse.
There was little more information to be had. I yearned to check something other than major news outlets, but it was impossible. Halfway through reading BBC's main story, the site 404'd. Someone had probably tried to shut it down. I gave up and headed to the shower.
As the hot water cascaded onto me, anger began to build into me. I'd always known it could happen, of course. And there'd been discussion on it, but still... locking down the internet! It felt so wrong; the last place for freedom had just been smashed. Infuriating. I wanted to slam my fist into the wall; instead, I slumped down into the tub.
What now, I thought. Would the world descend into an even more tyrannical state? Would things go back to the way they were? It seemed impossible. From all accounts, billions of files of information had been destroyed. Without information, data, without history, it was impossible to go back to the way we were. The logical, albeit depressing conclusion, was that the governments would take over. I shut off the water, toweled dry, put my pajamas back on and collapsed onto my inflatable mattress. What now?
The presidential address at eight brought even more bad news. I sat in quiet anticipation with my parents, glued to the T.V. He babbled on for a bit about how everything was going to be ok, and then the shitstorm started. Government takeover of banking, trade, fuel supplies and rationing, food distribution, and media. Law enforcement and military were to be stationed to ensure protection of valuable materials and prevent looting. Thousands of troops were being pulled from overseas to assist.
It was mind blowing. I had no idea what to do, how to fight back or how to stop this all from happening. It was like a darkness was enveloping the world, and I was powerless to stop it. That night, I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. One line ran through my head over and over: "Control of disinformation, terrorist communication, treasonous, and/or seditious material." Had the terrorists been trying to send an anti-government message?
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
A random act of fiction.
What sickly-sweet nightmares the living breath brings. That our darkest hours should also be our greatest is perhaps the essence of what it is to be human; then again, perhaps not. My drug-addled brain rarely can distinguish what is truth and fact from falsehoods and lies. I look fondly back upon days when my brain was not the pickled and shriveled thing it now seems to be. At the same time, all I see is ignorance in those memories; it's certainly true that ignorance is bliss. It's also weakness, and the weak are crushed or used by the strong as the strong should see fit. Such are the facts of life, or possibly just more lies.
Like I said, it's hard for me to tell anymore.
People like to talk about the excellence of peace, but the simple truth is that warfare has done so much more for the human race. Peace is a malaise of progress, no better than the aformentioned bliss. And death? The inevetible bi-product of war? I'm not qualified to speak on death. Then again, I'm hardly qualified (If such qualifications can be achieved) to speak on the human condition; yet I do. With that in mind I will explain my opinions on death.
Common philosophies on death can be seperated, rather easily, into two camps: firstly, those who believe that death is the end of all things. The true antithesis of life. Nothing but nothingness. And consequently, it can be decided that there is no point to this life: for if, when we die, we cease to exist, then what purpose in furthering our mortal experience? Indeed; if there is nothing after life, then we should all commit suicide and be done with the entire thing. And yet! And yet we persist; we cling to life, whether or not we as individuals believe in an afterlife.
It is for this reason I believe there [i]is[/i] an afterlife; for if there was not, nothing would exist; for there would be no purpose to it's existence. To be fair, that which makes sense to me rarely is qualified in the thoughts of others; I expect that these words shall be recieved no differently. For the sake of this prose, let us suppose I am right. That because life exists, it must have a purpose. The key of course, is understanding what that purpose is. This I cannot answer, and it's quite possible that the answer should vary from person to person. I simply do not know.
They pound upon my door now; proclaiming their self-given titles. As if they mean something to me. Their authority means nothing here. Why do the bother with pretenses, I wonder? I think it is for their own consciouss'; they need to validate their own acts, even if nobody else believes it. Idiocy. No, more than that; insanity. If there is such a thing as evil in this world, it is them. The self-righteous protectors, who force people to do things for their own good. I ramble; but that is all I have done. It is all I can do.
The idiots; their greatest weaknes is their pride. They assume they are the elite, the ingenious- and that anyone who opposes them are idiots. The first of the booby traps has gone off; a simple device consisting of string, the contents shotgun shells, and some matches in a coffee can. If luck is on my side, I killed one or two; more likely their body armor protected them from the pellets. Still, it will give them pause. And now I must away, to write another day.
Like I said, it's hard for me to tell anymore.
People like to talk about the excellence of peace, but the simple truth is that warfare has done so much more for the human race. Peace is a malaise of progress, no better than the aformentioned bliss. And death? The inevetible bi-product of war? I'm not qualified to speak on death. Then again, I'm hardly qualified (If such qualifications can be achieved) to speak on the human condition; yet I do. With that in mind I will explain my opinions on death.
Common philosophies on death can be seperated, rather easily, into two camps: firstly, those who believe that death is the end of all things. The true antithesis of life. Nothing but nothingness. And consequently, it can be decided that there is no point to this life: for if, when we die, we cease to exist, then what purpose in furthering our mortal experience? Indeed; if there is nothing after life, then we should all commit suicide and be done with the entire thing. And yet! And yet we persist; we cling to life, whether or not we as individuals believe in an afterlife.
It is for this reason I believe there [i]is[/i] an afterlife; for if there was not, nothing would exist; for there would be no purpose to it's existence. To be fair, that which makes sense to me rarely is qualified in the thoughts of others; I expect that these words shall be recieved no differently. For the sake of this prose, let us suppose I am right. That because life exists, it must have a purpose. The key of course, is understanding what that purpose is. This I cannot answer, and it's quite possible that the answer should vary from person to person. I simply do not know.
They pound upon my door now; proclaiming their self-given titles. As if they mean something to me. Their authority means nothing here. Why do the bother with pretenses, I wonder? I think it is for their own consciouss'; they need to validate their own acts, even if nobody else believes it. Idiocy. No, more than that; insanity. If there is such a thing as evil in this world, it is them. The self-righteous protectors, who force people to do things for their own good. I ramble; but that is all I have done. It is all I can do.
The idiots; their greatest weaknes is their pride. They assume they are the elite, the ingenious- and that anyone who opposes them are idiots. The first of the booby traps has gone off; a simple device consisting of string, the contents shotgun shells, and some matches in a coffee can. If luck is on my side, I killed one or two; more likely their body armor protected them from the pellets. Still, it will give them pause. And now I must away, to write another day.
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