Blinding Lights

 Fresh Dawn | Lake Jindabyne 

 Blustered

 Moon Clips

[55]

Rolling Digital Dice & Tapping Broken Glass

I spent a majority of my morning clicking buttons on a comptuer, rolling digital dice in Baldurs Gate attempting to get the best possible scores for my characters attributes (abilities). If you're unfamiliar with D&D these are: Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charism. These define how well your character does as it interacts with the world. Kinda important, so I took the time to get a banging roll. The character I'm creating is a half-elf multi-class fighter/mage. His name is Weize Gladefire. He's proficiant with morning stars and claims, and two-handed fighting style. I'm quite excited as this will mark my return to the Forgotten Realms universe aka Faerûn. Exciting, I know. Starting out fresh always has it's challenges, especially multi-classing, as I'll level up slower, but in the end, the benefits will far out weigh the sluggish start. I'll have the fighting skills to hold up in combat, with the added bonus of being able to use magic. And using magic, at least for myself, is quintessential if I'm embarking on a fantastical journey. I'll embellish more as my journey unfolds.

Speaking of embarking on new outtings, I've typed this all in the blogger app on my phone, which happens to have a shattered screen. Although shattered, it all still works, and sometimes you just have to use what's available to you at any particular moment. Unfortunately, I'm tired of pecking on this piece of shit, so I'll write more when I have a real computer.

Pessimistic Positivity

Moodyville's muse kicks tin cans

triumphant failures mock knowledge

and my positivity rides waves

moments influence, inflections laugh

I've gone deft to deliver

intentions to lift

strange, pessimism, smells putrid

cold comfort found in misery

the ministry dictates

fearing pain less, embracing more

presence will always be

and I mock myself

at my best, because I know all 

inner workings paved waves

I will be high

I will be low

my only goal

climb higher every peak

and fall harder

till I bleed

neglecting fear of impending injury

disdain for comfort

the most treacherous journey

is to the middle 

Perilous Feats, Trifling Weak

Here's a flip-flop. Flip-flapping, furthering fermentation, dank drinks drunk and destroyed. I got little words today, but think, big pictures rather. Fuck the thousand words, because that shit is never obvious.  Dastardly, they assume the signals from one persons eyeballs to the brain will somehow completely explain their intentions. My connections to these photographs will always be greater because I was there for the moment of capture. My thousand words are my own, and you can't have them. You'll undoubtedly form your own. That's the intention. It's art, and emotions seek the mother tongue for description. I can ad quips, steering the ship in a north-easterly direction, but you're already in the life raft drifting. Here's a life saver. My excitement is derived from crisp, extraordinarily framed, abundantly lit (or highly absorbed), photographs. 

Never mind. My phone just rang and I have to go move into my new house. 

A la Photographic. 

 Please Hold - While I travel to space and back.

These Streets are Full of Flair

Fervour Fears Feist

Chills spiral through to fruition. Mongrel dogs howl hypnotic through the darkness. Our fear feels, as comfort in numbers sits illusive. Journey's whisper is close, unseen, but awareness that her proximity is immediate, I steady my shaking hand. 

"Take another step!"

Thoughts of distant are irrelevant. It's here and now only for this moment, forever. Digest the setting, the sky folds through ripples of time and space. We can travel the impossible distance, whoever deemed impossible, never accomplished. I reach up and pluck stars, curing heartache forever. 

My DeLorean hums. I'm attacking horizons, spinning hesitations fear me. Gum trees blurrrrr. 

Eighty-Eight miles per hour, and I'm standing still. 

I've forgotten where I came from, and severely doubt the road that lies before me. Plucked from my own experience, I can't trust my perceptions of the future. Can I trust the past? Doubtful, recollections are faint, and wear pigs heads as masks, dancing naked round burning bushes. Fuck the meaning. I take off my pig head and am conscious. 

I'm not sure I can tell the difference between my day and night dreams. I find my imagination is working much more these days. I chalk it up to more viscera activity. My guts have been churning, my surroundings impacting my consumptions. Goon Sacks. Direct connection resulting in revelation. It's working, so habits changing is extremely unlikely. And why would I want to change? Why would you want to change? Careful now. Self-examination is dangerous if you're not qualified. Like self-medicating is frowned upon if you're not a doctor. But don't worry, I went to film school, I'm a qualified self-examiner. Introspection gets convoluted swift. I recommend balancing it out by self-medicating. I'm also a doctor, in my dreams. 

I have some pictures to upload as well, but I keep forgetting the card reader when I venture to town. I'll describe one of my favorites to keep your curiosities at bay. The set-up. Salty, Troy, Matt, and myself drove into Canberra the other day to gather supplies. On the way back I took some pictures from the back seat while we drove. Lets say, blurred lines transpired. Stay tuned friends. 

This Mechanism got Tooled

Arbor arched awning aloft

Buzzed business burned bonds

Chatters chipped clipping cliques

Denver dogs dawned days

Effortless eulogy entranced equivocally

France fucked foreign freighters

Gators grind gruelling giblets

Horses hooves hovered hostile

Introspective indignation iced insensitivity 

Jaguar jinxed jumbo jet

Kaleidoscope kin killed king

Lustrous languish lulled lazily 

Monetized masqueraded meticulous melodrama

Nano nips nuzzled neatly

Optimized optometrists ordered oats

Pounding pandas paraded proudly

Quick queens quack quarterly

Rapping rabbits raped rubber

Stinging stipulations suffered stigmata

Tougher teams terminate transvestites

Uppers understand understatements ultimately

Victorian victories vacate vicinities 

Wandering wizards warp winchesters 

Xylotomous xylophone xeroxes x-rayed 

Yuppies yelled yesteryears yatters

Zipped zeal zealously zoomed

Cluster Heads full of Stars

 [Goals to the end of the Universe]

 [Heads full of Stars]

Cluster heads full of Vast

Distracted last

To the ends of the universe

Spells oft cast

Distilled, tasted curse

 [Jindabyne, NSW, Australia]

[Night Trails]

Vivid's Only Half

To say vivid is understated. Dreams illusive majority. 

Riding skyward, seemingly upward into the stratosphere

Perched upon a precariously high ledge in a mountain range taller than I've ever seen

Giant snowfields scream

I enter a community of quaint but meticulously constructed dwellings

The path I walk is sheer rockface, clinging, I manoeuvre along

A local elder shimmys past, hot beverage in hand, not phased by depths unseen below

I fear for the only moment in this journey

Lucid awareness of my situation, means falling would translate to immediate dismissal 

Hand and foot holds stay true

I round a corner and vast beauty greets my minds eye

Snowfields forever, jagged cliffs hold them steady

An enchanting Beauty greets me, she beacons me to follow

I walk, not rushed, but earnest

Weaving between clusters of stone and homes

Warm and earnest souls follow my journey from dark corners

Neither dread nor apprehension enter my thoughts

I follow, as Beauty leads round corner after corner

I'm now standing on the precipice

Green water greener than green itself

Never have I seen placid like this

Impervious to the bitter howls of high born winds

I can't help but hold and stare, caught mesmerized

Beauty whispers 

Attention immediately shifts

We enter her home on waters edge

This place is comfortable, ancient, and adorned accordingly

Beauty's father enters, his soul feels older than time

He looks at me for an eternity

In that time I stand, locked eye to eye

The moment passes and he is gone

Just beauty and I stand

I dare to glance upon her only to find myself alone

The abandon doesn't touch my heart

She is still with me

I leave the confines of the endless

And wander strengthened by what I now know

I look downwards, discovering deep green placid under my feet

I walk no more, but instead look to the eternal sky above

And wake.   

Blistering Cold in Blinding Heat

Whether weather concedes, 

Rather Mother Nature succeeds

The plan never goes just

So ideas ripe and follow heedless

planning is needless

Another post from the future. The ritual develops new paths, and descriptions of posts pasts, are not necessarily accurate. New routines embraced like long brothers lost, Kings rather, of warring realms,  faced with death of minions deeps, terms agreed upon. 

Delve

Obnoxious sounds rustled from thicket. Treading delicately in hunt, the capture is based on rules written in stone. However my memory recollects, doubtfully accurate, I search for new frames never seen before. Impossible is most likely, I question if never seen before is a figment of my imagination. I can't believe that. I won't. I saw a man sky dive from space the other day. Never seen that before. So time being what it is now, I'll crawl through shrubbery grinning mischievously. Thirty second chunks, again and again. It's the world we're in, and acceptance isn't part of the decision, it's just what it is. Thankfulness is, for privileges unsurpassed. Wide angles not quite enough, several steps back fits content in frame. Back peddle reveals what was in minds eye. Satisfied. Surprised.   

C.B.D. Coffee Ex·tra·or·di·naire

We think we choose, unconsciously the choice is made for us, through and through. Hardly, circumstantial at best, subconscious selection is subtle. Our preferences are engrained in years of trial and error. We're a target at best. A fucking bullseye for the powerful elite that understand these things better than us. We tell ourself it's coincidence, how convenient. No. Convenience is what gives grip to habits hold. That comfortable blanket slung slightly over slender shoulders cold. Generations cowed through this preposterous system of greed, to better understand the ones that dependability rest on. Often, uneasiness rests in my stomachs pit. Knowing is the battle, and choosing the alternative is the war. Unbeknownst to the general populace they struggle with their daily lives, and will know no different. The appearance of oddities takes keen observation. Something I've eyed when purchasing simple life necessities at ones local grocer, is the ratio of cost to weight. How much do you get for a certain amount of currency? Every price tag here in Australia has a price/kg (or 100grams) unbiased to any one brand. They break it down for your convenience at the point of shelf to basket. North America, I've found, isn't always as willing to point out the obvious. My endeavours in grocery analysis have yielded a few intriguing observations. Smaller "more convenient" sized packaging is often staggeringly priced in comparison to a larger identical product. For one individual it's often difficult to gauge, because to get the larger quantity often means more waste, and much more of an overall coast to the individual. But to buy smaller quantities is of higher detriment to the environment, as packaging overruns landfills. Dilema. A discussion arrose earlier today about food thrown due to expiration, or lack of freshness, which comes at a cost to establishments, and unfortunately liability also dictates what establishments can do with food gone past the point of no return. No homeless person, don't dive deep in our dumpsters full of day old bread, you sick twisted waste of life. I hope you starve. This also brings up a point that manufacturers struggle with, that age old detail of how to preserve the product as long as humanly possible, and I don't know about you, but I know I want as many chemicals added to my food as possible, to make me bigger, (stronger, and faster). The more we delve into the deep of this debate about our daily human need, all the more convolution arises. Solutions. Can we break the habit of our gluttonous ways, doubtful. My pessimistic attitude is justified in the magnitude of the issue, and on my (often) inability to break my own habits. Hunger is something that strikes me each and everyday, and when I come face to face with that pre-packaged garlic toast, I give in and heat that delectable roll of deliciousness right beside my home made lasagna until it's golden  brown. Preservatives smurrrrvatives. I think about it now, but last night was a different story. Multiply that struggle by the billions that have choice, and garlic toast wins every time. I could keep going, debating the intricacies of the downward spiral this path leads, but rock bottom will be long after I turn to dust, and for all the ill turns science has turned us down, science will adapt, the cunning of man will problem solve with trial and error, eventually guiding us down that golden road to perfection. Ha. 

Up NEXT! We now have Corporate Sponsorship! 

The (                    ) Vast Avenger blog will be announced next post!

Fat Lady Locals

Fat-lady singing out my window, it's not over. You just blew your proverbial voice load, and I'm calling you out. You presume it's over, but who's making that outlandish claim. Dream bubble pops. Damn. Back to reality, and I resent my false claims because she was right,  I was wrong, even though I created her deep inside my dream-state. Recollection is faint, as with most of my dreams. It probably wasn't that important anyway.

Breakfast feats turn future feasts into delectable treats for my soul. Once you adapt to the few oddities of differing cultures, you realize people are all really the same. Certain particulars abound in personalities everywhere, and traveling is really about adopting particular. I now call a bathroom a toilet. Not too difficult. It makes the locals feel more comfortable at any rate.

Housing is sorted. A place to rest the spirit is essential, and I have to say the new cave is of the highest caliber that I will have frequented in quite some time. Stoked is a word I'd use to describe my excitement level. Patience must be practiced until the facelift is done, and we are given the signal to invade. This will also be the first "home" I've acquired overseas. Neat. 

Enough of these bombastic words! Here, photographic evidence. 

Jindabyne, NSW, Australia

Tuesday, June Fourth, Two-Thousand-Thirteen. (From the Future)

Catching speed, and building momentum. Looked at a house today. The Realtor described it as "old" multiple times. Didn't seem that old to me. But I supposed old describes what is unseen just as much as the obvious. Other options are swift approaching this afternoon. What transpires is fast knowledge for future-self, but shadowed and cloudy for the moment. I breath, and sip my flat-white (espresso and hot milk). These moments are what travel is about. The new coupled with familiar are the combination that drives my inspiration. Lack of utter comfort have given my mind the necessary twinge of inspiration to kick myself enough to sit down and write words. Feels good to get past the first sentence finally. But whatever this is, or will be, is not just for my own personal benefit, but for yours as well. My mother puts it succinctly. "I'm living vicariously through you." So at the very least, I do this for her, because I know she'll follow religiously. For everyone else, my hope is that you'll glean moments of insite, humour, inspiration, and horror. Tales will be embellished, as all great ones are, but truth will always be the underlying root. 

Jindabyne is a tiny town that sleeps most of the year, but as cold winds approach, so do the masses. The bustle has picked up significantly since my arrival three days ago. And chats with locals only confirm that it'll get more hectic. I anticipate snowboarding most of all, but new friends and strengthening community ties come a close second. 

Last night, skies were clear and crisp, and the stars made their presence known. Speaking in their distinctive twinkle. Photographs were taken, and I'll share as soon as I can. My first language is visual, framed and sharp, and second, is English, my intentions are to couple the two.

All I can, is all I am up to this present. We can't learn without failing. So fail hard. I believe communication is master key, and assumption is disease. Hypocrisy is each our own personal battle, and don't try to say it doesn't reside somewhere deep inside. When I examine it in myself, I see it's a burly brick wall thats too big to climb and too wide to navigate around, which holds me back from doing things that I've always desired to do. Well fuck that. Choices are being made to change, and that's always a viable option. I've already made it this far haven't I? Expectations. What are yours? What are mine? Elaboration will come with time. 

As I re-read what I've written I second guess myself. The urge to delete, wipe clean and walk away is strong. But this time I won't, because even if this is discombobulated, scattered, and unfocused, it's not going to get better if I delete it.