This Journey

If my life had a meaning, I wonder, what would it be? Indeed, I am a man without a cause, a being without a purpose in many ways. I have opinions on almost everything but of 99% of these subjects I accept that I don't know enough for them to be valid.

I could never argue politics or philosophy, my beliefs are too polarized, too based on my personal beliefs and passions. I am certain, of many things, I am equally certain however that it is best to keep these ideas to myself for the most part.

Professionally, yes, I am driven. Not so much by money or even by knowledge but by a will to be everything I can be. A will that desires great challenges, a will that wishes to learn these games people play, a will to master them. To what end I have no idea.

It's maddening, potentially. Growing up I had meaning but was completely impotent, now everything is shifting towards the opposite situation. For every ounce of meaning I give up I get some power. For every compromise I make on myself I am awarded a moment of productivity. It's a sick game really.

Age has given me an amount of wisdom, though I would never claim to be wise. I think this allows me to see things as they really are, pick my fights more. And even though I am far from a situation where I am consistently productive or focused I have certainly made leaps in that area. In time I may well master it.

And will I ask why then, at the end, why I did it all? Why I worked hard where others might have relaxed, where I tortured myself when others might have just accepted their destiny. Where I fought when others might have turned the other cheek, or won where they might have lost.

Will I worry why I did it all. Will I remember? I'll write it here just in case I forget.

I do it for Joy, I do it for love, lost and yet to be found. I do it for fire, wind and rain. I do it for me, this is who I am. I don't want anything this world can offer me, I came with my pockets full and I intend to empty them somehow.

Writing a Blurb

I'm going to do a blurb every day until I get it right. Here is tonight's effort.

In the forgotten past, chronicled only in ruined libraries, two ancient spirits maintained balance between the various powers of the Island, both political and elemental. Ultimately however, a great man emerged, becoming the favourite of both spirits. He used their combined gifts to defeat them both in turn, confining them to stones and dooming the world to continue in their absence.

Several life times since; Aster, an erstwhile student of the forbidden art that the man had created stumbles upon one of the stones and come under its irresistible influence.
Now, as a red sky dies above him, Aster takes his place as a pawn in what may be the last game ever played.


I've been researching blurbs and they are deceptively simple. Anyway, leave a comment if it makes you want to read the book! Otherwise my next attempt will be uploaded tomorrow!

Yes, I can use Photoshop Filters too

I have a growing list of things I'd like to write about here but every time I motivate myself to make a post I'm left short in ideas. Nothing seems worth writing about, or impossible to express. I'm back in Navan now, away from the congested streets of Dublin and back under a clear sky. I am thankful for the chance to be here for a while, but I'm hoping it won't be for long.

I'm looking for another job of course but that ever present of dream of getting something published is always dancing in my mind. I don't have control over any of things however and I've always hated that.

I pass my time by studying for my driving license exam and for programming Qualifications, I have things to do but also plenty of time to write and I am making more time now just to sit in a quiet room, television off, and just writing. It's never easy, to focus. Only, I think my problem is the opposite, I'm too focused, too focused on jobs, on exams, too focused on the next big thing. I am impatient, egotistical, overdriven.

And then I will turn and put another plan in place, another scheme to set things right. But that isn't always the way. I need to start thinking more like a hippy, more like, that things are cool. I need to just be. I have no idea how to do that.

I do not know the future, I may have my chance at the things I desire, I might not but I do not serve myself forsaking myself in favor of my quest for meaning. It's like feeding the crew of an ocean liner into the engines, sure, it's extra fuel for free but now you are just an empty hulk of unthinking steel, pushing through the freezing waves for no other reason than because you can.

I take things too seriously.

I just do. I need to stop.

Seriousness is a cruel addiction. If my pal Edgar is right and all we see or seem is truly a dream within a dream, well, we might as well make it a good one about unicorns and volcanoes.

Burn baby burn.

The Challenge of Creation

We live in a world where the individual has his hands tied in many ways, films, games and animations are works of multiple hands. They are built of a co-ordinated host, not one mind.

I have attempted to make games before but it is not possible, each part can absorb your entire ability and switching back and forth is impossible without losing quality. I have attempted to make films before but you need actors for a start, or at least somebody to hold the camera.

There is also the synergistic nature of the human mind, a right match up of minds can prove to be beyond the sum of their parts.

But, in the real world it takes resources to get these people together. It needs time, commitment and money. It is something beyond one guy to achieve, at least to start with. The novel doesn't suffer from this problem and I love it for this fact but I don't want to restricted forever. Well, it's at least a place to begin I suppose...

In the Midst

Well, half way through the only decent writing I've got done for a long time now. I'm back home and have space and peace and quiet. I can also have the television on in the room blaring comedy sitcoms that I already know off by heart playing in the background. (Seems to really help, don't ask me why.) I used to claim to need three things distracting me to be able to relax, perhaps it's true.

Writing is one of these things, it needs the right environment. I can't really claim to understand at the moment what helps me write but all I can do is play it by ear.

And I suppose it's not truly limited to writing, whether it's study or technical work it's always been difficult for me to get into a place where I can do it. I just often feel so unstimulated, sitting there focusing on a single thing which often incorporates consistent patterns and flat presentation. For this reason I find it hard to sit through most films and listen to most music, I think.

Anyway, the point is that this is something I've tried to brute force and it just didn't work. My mind is how it is and I have to learn to deal with its own eccentricities. I think in the end it will work out easier on us both.