More Dreams

What I remember of this dream: There was a man with intent to assault some women. The reason he planned on assaulting and murdering them was because  they were sex workers, or at least he perceived them to be. As he was preparing this, another man showed up and addressed him, pointing a gun at him. Evidently, the women were not sex workers (well, maybe that, too), but were working with a crew of outlaws, who had setup a deal with other outlaws. When the second crew arrived, they shot the first man in the back of the head. However, he was not killed by this for some reason, and instead started to set off an explosive in his fake eye. The first crew ran, and the second crew appeared to be taken out. Then the man went on the run, naked, for some reason.

That's the point at where I was involved and no longer just an observer. I tracked him, followed him from a distance until he climbed into the back of a school bus that was full of college students. I climbed in after. The tone of the dream shifted, at that point, as he had tried to convince the girl next to him to have sex with him, a petite young thing with black hair. She didn't want to, so I invited her over to sit with me. Well, she was apparently more into me because, well... In the midst of it, the driver of the bus called everyone up to the front, as they apparently wanted to inspect people's flies for signs that they were having sex. During the inspection, it was revealed that I and several others were members of the student (?) council of this college were going to, and it was some sort of flight school or something. Evidently, I was in charge of structuring courses and such. Someone said I was also a member of the other student council, which I've no idea what that means.  After that, I went back to sit with my new friend. I woke up shortly after.

Horror Movies

It's rather rare that I sit and watch horror films by myself. A great many I do not care for, especially the more recent slate. But the occasions that I do watch horror films, I'm usually in favor of the protagonists, 20 minutes with jerks tropes not withstanding. There are a few notable exceptions to this, but it holds true for the most part.

However, I just watched the original 1984 Children of the Corn. While I've probably seen the film before (as I'm a big Stephen King fan and at one time sought to watch all of his films), I have no real recollection of it, so it was as if I was watching for the first time (if it was not indeed the first time in earnest). Now, I had sympathy for Job, Sara, and Joseph. Young children, forced to witness and be accessory in the murders of all the adults in town. I didn't really have much sympathy or interest in Burt or Vicky from the beginning, and as the film went on, I grew to dislike Vicky for her lack of anything resembling competence or character relatability. It seemed she served only to assert they take the exact opposite course of action that Burt wished to take in a given situation. Burt, at least, seemed some what relatable as he behaved like a person thrust into this situation would (at least until the part he started beating up children for no reason. Yes, yes, they were members of a murderous cult, but really, he didn't know that they were trying to murder him when he started with that.)
But honestly, the character I found most sympathetic was Isaac. Religious fanaticism not withstanding, he was strong leader, who knew for a fact that his deity not only existed, but wanted specific things. Malachai, on the other hand, struck me as nothing but a jealous, bloodthirsty brute more interested in killing than actually appeasing He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Isaac had a soft spot for Job and Sara, allowing them to break the rules with little consequence, a fact that irked Malachai to no end. Malachai's ultimate betrayal of Isaac, and taking Vicky away from the ritual clearing to try to lure Burt out seemed like the reason that He Who Walks Behind the Rows came with intent to destroy the cult, in my opinion. Burt's speech about religions failing made him somewhat likeable, but really by that point I had lost interest, and just wanted Isaac to kill everybody, because he was right all along. I was passably okay with the ending, except the whole leaving all the rest of the children to their fate and only taking Job and Sara with them thing.

But that's not really the film I wanted to talk about. I also watched the second film in the series, the 1991 Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice. From the opening of the film, I absolutely hated the protagonists. Even more than just not really caring about them, I actively loathed them. Especially Garrett. I could not stand anything about him. The film did nothing to improve my opinion of him, from his lack of regard for other people's feelings and opinions in pursuit of his story, his complete disregard of his son's feelings and opinions for his entire life, not to mention his sudden and inexplicable urge to tell him what to do, to his complaint about his $135 shoes getting ruined by wading through a creek, I never grew to like him, or even respect him as a journalist, a father, or a human being in an unreasonable situation. Danny, I felt a bit more sympathy for, but ultimately, he was kind of bland, achieving something resembling character growth only after being asked to sacrifice the girl he liked, and even then, he went from having a modicum of depth in his relationship with his father to wanting to patch things up because..... why? Nothing about the lead female characters was at all interesting or worth mentioning, as they served only as love interests for their male counterparts. It was so utterly boring, I skipped most of the scenes of them interacting with one another. Frank Red Bear was almost an interesting character, until it became clear his only role was fulfilling the Mystical Native American role. Even having a line saying "Sometimes, what you've learned and what you know contradict each other." Sigh.

However, this film totally re-affirmed my sympathy and support of He Who Walks Behind the Rows and his chosen prophet, Micah. With the snazzy Native American origin story given to He Who Walks Behind the Rows (a tribe of farmers grew lazy and complacent, exploiting the animals of the land and neglecting the farms and plants, causing the children to ultimately rebel and kill them, creating the vengeful spirit), and Micah's sympathetic story (he, along with all the other surviving Gatlin children were shipped off to the next town over, where the populous pretended to accept them, but really just wanted access to their corn crop, so they could sell it and make a huge profit), made me really, really want Danny to join them in earnest and have the rest of the town perish. The ending was super disappointing as well. Garret and Frank straight up murder a couple teenagers, and Danny isn't able to go through with killing the girl he likes. Frank, though fatally wounded, runs over Micah with a combine, and as he's getting sucked in, he begs Danny for help. Meanwhile, Garrett yells at him to run away with the women folk as he retrieves Frank's body. And then, the four survivors leave, Danny and Garrett have put their harsh words and lifetime of resentment behind them and.... that's it. What kind of an ending is that? Not only is Garrett a murderer (he caught a spear thrown at him, and then threw it back, impaling the poor child who threw it in the first place), but somehow, because he showed up and helped fight off the cult, he and Danny have resolved their issues somehow? And the women are totally swooning over their manliness because spending a few days with a boy and a jackass and having them not kill you and help not kill you is the quickest way to a woman's heart, right? Wow. I understand why of all the films, this one was so poorly received.

Impressions

I often wonder what sort of impression people get from my life. What sort of things do people think about me and my actions and my relationships? Do people have assumptions and ideas that would never have crossed my mind to associate with my own life? How close or far are these assumptions from the truth?

One of the main problems with this is that there is no objective truth to be had. There's my impression of these things. There are the others' involved impressions. And then are the outside impressions of those third parties. Each of these impressions is informed by a great number of things. A person's history, biases, and moods. Hundreds of other factors. So, what is the truth?

Never Any Less Surprising

Tonight, I had someone thank me for my actions at an event we both attended in June. In fact, they told me that they could not thank me enough for what I did for them. As far as I know, all I did for them was greet them warmly and ask to get to know them. Sure, we spent a lot of time together over the course of the week. But most of it was simply sitting next to each other and talking. We did share a tent for a night, and I assisted them with a few things, but in general, I feel as if I only did what any other person would have done in my place.

Apparently, this was enough to give them an entirely new perspective on themself and the world. Granted, they also mentioned the rest of my group helped with that. I suppose, as this was a young person exploring their gender identity, that it was helpful that I, and the rest of my group, were welcoming and accepting. I suppose were I that age and first coming out it would have had an equal effect on me.

But regardless, it never gets any less surprising. No matter how many times people thank me for treating them like a human being and accepting them as they are, I will never not be surprised. I hope they continue to meet people who treat them as well, or even better.

Thoughts on Responsibilities and Other Things

I expect this to be a long, perhaps rambling post. First, let me relate a dream I had recently. In this dream, I was evidently at an event with my group in a medieval fantasy combat game I participate in. At this event, the previous year we had camped at a different, though adjacent, spot. We had setup our camp and the leader of the group, myself, and several others decided to go back to the old spot and look it over. The leader and I were also discussing important matters to the group, though the exact details of which I do not recall, but it seemed as if most of the people accompanying us were simply hanging out. This was a minor annoyance to me, as it seemed to be impeding the business talk, but as it regularly happens regardless, I didn't say anything. The old site, for whatever reason, required descending a wooden stairway, maybe twenty feet down, at least from the direction we approached from. I noted that we had left some graffiti on the stairs the previous year (as many others had as well).  At the bottom of the stair was a great deal of ankle deep muck, which we recalled from the previous year (and no doubt one of the primary reasons we moved), and we continued the discussion. However, as one of the others with us came down the stair way, part of the railing broke off. Next to the stairs, a multi-trunked tree was growing and leaning against it. Another member of the group broke one (or perhaps several) of the tree trunks, and in doing so, caused the entire stair case to begin collapsing and falling to pieces. I remarked to the leader that this would not have happened if it had only been those of us who were meant to come. Shortly after, we heard a horn that I knew meant something was happening at our camp. Taking the initiative, I shouted to everyone that if they were not engaged in the business talk they ought to return to camp. The leader, however, quietly said we were done at the old site anyway, and I belayed that and went with him out the other direction of the site, which did not require a stairway. As we approached we saw a very strange thing going on in front of our camp. Evidently, there was some sort of show or event or something, with a large number of people shooting fireballs out of umbrella like devices, immediately in front of and going in and out of our camp. This did not sit well with me at all, and I berated those responsible, pointing out that if there were not a relatively wide, empty area next to our gate, they could very well be setting fire to our camp. I don't recall any details after that, the dream may have changed or ended.

Now, I related the contents of that dream, because I would like to use it as an example. To begin with, the wooden stairway is a very good illustration of how NOT to treat a site. While in the dream I did not feel much concern about either the graffiti or the collapsing, looking back on those things, I really feel as if the graffiti, unless actively encouraged by the owners of the place, was incredibly inappropriate. In the dream, when the stair collapsed, I pointed out that it was because our people had come with us, even though they weren't involved in the discussion. However, I did not seem to feel as if it was horribly out of line. Again, in retrospect, this seems like incredibly poor behavior. While the dream logic to an extent suggested the event organizers would be understanding of the incident, I feel as if I should have taken proactive steps to prevent such things from happening in the first place. From the beginning, I should have asked the hangers-on to hang on elsewhere and not follow us. When I saw the person making missteps, I should have intervened. Likewise, I should have intervened with the person breaking the tree (though I seem to recall, in the dream logic, there was some justification for their actions, though I can't for the life of me figure out what it might have been).

This is especially true now that, as of the end of June, I was given a chain of responsibility to wear 'round my neck. While I've had responsibility in the group before, I've borne no outward symbol.

Even outside of that group, however, I've been wearing the chain. I've worn it every day since I've completed it. Outside of the game, it has no meaning. A person who sees it will not know of its significance. But for me, it is a physical reminder that I need to take more responsibility for things. For instance, I woke up this morning, not feeling particularly well. Physically nor mentally. But I woke up. I put on some clothes, and I went out to the kitchen. I noticed my partner sitting on the couch, working, rather than going to the university to do so. This situation did not bother me, though it was unexpected. I made a casual remark on it, and she told me she was working. I said okay. I then continued to the kitchen and began doing dishes immediately. I had said that I would do so today, and as they had been piling up for some time, there were quite a few and it would take me a few loads, as we have little space for them to dry and a single well sink. After I completed the first load and set them to dry, I sat down on the couch with my laptop. As I was doing my usual things, I tried to engage my partner in light conversation, as she was grading assignments, and she can sometimes get frustrated with such things. However, she indicated that she did not really want to talk, and that I should go elsewhere. Well, I did not respond well to this at all. I considered it rude and hurtful. I went back to start the second load of dishes, and after I set them to dry, I went and laid back down in bed.  A little while later, I got up to go do the next load, and she asked me if i was upset with her. I answered honestly, and said yes, a little. That I felt like if I hadn't promised to do the dishes I'd have just gone back to bed, because I didn't feel it was worth getting up this morning. This quite upset her. Understandably so. Later that I evening I realized how horribly depressed I currently am, and why I reacted to her reasonable requests very poorly. However, that is not a justification for my behavior. My words and actions were not in keeping with the morals and responsibilities I hold myself to. Rather, that I ought to hold myself to.

I have much work to do, in that regard.

A Bit of Revision

So, I decided to remove all my drafts for novels I'm currently working on from this blog, largely because, well, I don't really think they are ready for public consumption, and I changed a fair few things and wrote a fair few more in the mean time. While I lack having documentation of my progress, I prefer to have it to myself, and not exposed to the world.

That said, I'm highly considering doing something new with this blog in the future. Obviously, I've not been particularly active in the past six months or so. So, I'd like to renew an effort for daily postings, or at least five days a week postings. The question is, what kind of content should I put into it? I've considered writing essays and analyses and reviews and the like, but I haven't done anything of the sort. I have also considered doing character profiles and background info from some of my stories. Maybe some interesting short story ideas I've tossed around. I don't know yet. Let me know in the comments what you think.

Musings of A Fragile Psyche

Sometimes my life can be pretty fucked up.
Now, for instance. I thought I was maybe getting my life on track. I'm working with a program director at a university to develop and instate a program to better serve the students facing particular issues. My partner and I recently decided to start a joint account. We are discussing moving to a bigger place. I've been counseling and mentoring college age kids for the past couple months. I've been happy, healthy, and productive for the past couple of months, for the most part at least.

Then I went and dug around in my past. And here I am at 2 AM, sitting awake, on my computer, listening to forlorn, melancholy, and depressing music because my whole world is turning upside down. Something I believed for a long time, something that profoundly affected my life, fucked me up beyond recognition, and shaped the very person I became to a high degree, may in fact have been in my head. I've come to terms with that part, and I'd rather that be the case, honestly. But how does a person recover from the shock, the realization, that most of their adult life was spent dealing with, coping with, trying to recover from, and learn from... an event that didn't even fucking happen? A dream, a dissociative episode, or just some lie I told myself? The past seven, eight years of my life built from something that... that may not have been reality.

I don't regret where I am. I regret some of the things I did. Some of the things I didn't do. A lot of things I'm doing now are the direct result of my struggles with that incident. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I may never know the truth about what really happened.