You are so many *lonely* *juicy* *bubbles*. It is so sad.

Now that you are *campers* you will have more *parties*

and no more *sad* *lonely* *bubbles*.

This is the *secret*.

There is *juice squeezing* and then we are not so *frumple*.

Meeting someone new, feels a bit strange these days. I was always unapologetic about who I was, in some regards, but it feels like in the past I also had a vision of who I wanted to present myself as. That "mask" was an important part of my self-concept, you could even say that I specifically sought out social spaces where I could don it. But this, too, seems to be a part of myself that I have lost, had stolen, or simply faded in its former brightness. There is such a thing as trying to hard to be perfect; when someone takes issues with your flaws in a way that is hurtful, does it really do you any good to hide them away?

On one hand, perhaps it allows me to be more nonchalant, less anxious, more true to the day to day experience of myself. It's a similar thing that happened with my music production process -- there's not as much of a pressure for getting everything "perfect", because it's an understood part of the process that there will be good days and bad days. So, maybe it's the same when it comes to first impressions, as well. There is both so much but also so little that you can know about someone by meeting them. No words, no labels, could hope to convey a fraction of the meaning and substance that a life holds.

There was an annoying dinner conversation I overhead once (annoying I think not because of what the person was saying, but because of the know-it-all attitude they seemed to be conveying it with) about how people ("women"?) say / think they want someone funny, charming, sincere, but really they want to be with and interact with someone who knows how to be all of those different things, at the "right" times. I don't really think I agree with that framing either, but I do think that the more I learn about who people are the harder it is to boil them down into absolutes. Maybe it is because myself and the people around me in my age group have become more well-rounded individuals, but it is hard to look at someone anymore and just say "they are quiet" or "they are funny" or "they are nice". I guess describing people is difficult in general.

It should make me feel as if I have more depth to who I am, but strangely enough, it makes me feel like there is less. I staked what I had of my life and existence on being certain ways -- I min-maxed myself to the extremes, and even the outcomes were questionable in the end, at least I was sure of it. Now, things are different...though, perhaps not as different as they might seem. The overall goings-on of my life are still dictated by routine, it just seems more...mechanical than lived. That is not to say mechanical in a lifeless sense, more that it is fixed machinery that is simply working as intended. I guess my life still somehow revolves around things that were lost to the past, the difference is that before they felt "real" enough that I could grasp onto the threads with my hands and fingers. Now, they are simply lost to me. I'm not sure I know what being in love feels like other than something that hurts.

Stay, won't you? My love for you is so unwavering that I may sometimes have even taken it for granted. We may never be like we were once before, but that's okay. Of course, if you could, be what you once were, it would bring me happiness too, but that's not the way that things go, is it? So it's okay. As long as you stay. And I will do my best to keep you warm, to keep you safe. As I have, throughout it all. Not because it was some great sacrifice, but because it was simply the most natural thing for both of us.

=====

Things are alright, recently. There is some worry, but also some hope, in different regards. We will see if it bears fruit, or at the very least, serves as nourishment for living.

I continue to spend some time on these various things. OW has continued to be an interesting avenue to pursue. It's such a dynamic game that is demanding in both mechanics and decision-making in complex ways; there are days when I feel like I'm really not doing well, and then days when I feel like I really am. It is fun, but probably only for the sake of having others to celebrate the wins with, to witness our improvement.

That hasn't been the case for most of the other hobbies I've pursued, which is an interesting difference. I won't lie, ALTTPR =has= been a little less enjoyable now that I've taken a step away from the reddit weekly seeds, but it was honestly less about having other people to witness my performances and more just having the weekly thing to do. But aside from being busy with other pursuits (like mentoring, or working more on my website), it became a little unsatisfying to see my times stacking up against someone who, shall we say, is "unnaturally lucky".

Rhythm Quest work continues here and there, still working on backdrops. I haven't sunk a ton of time into it recently, but I managed to spend enough time to come up with something pretty decent-looking (?) for the next rework, just have to put it in-engine and see if it needs tweaking and adjustments at this point before I proceed to doing palette work.

I've been doing an okay job overall, I think. Sure, there are slip-ups here and there -- yesterday's cooking wasn't too great, for example, and I'm struggling with oversleeping on some days -- but I am getting the right things done here and there, too. Doing the groceries, as usual, handling my smog test, and all that. I could use more exercise soon, I'm sure, so there's that. But even that isn't too terrible -- the last time I went ice skating I felt like I really was getting somewhere with it.

Interestingly, I find myself less excited about tea these days, but I think that's somewhat understandable, to be honest. It's still enjoyable, just not an uncommon, novel, and exciting endeavor. It's just an everyday part of life.

I guess it's somewhat regrettable to be taking a step away from social dance, but not even that much, really. That's probably how I know it's right -- the lack of guilt, or regret, or anything like that. But then again, I've always been pretty good about just deciding what I want to do and pursue, and deciding for myself when to change course. Usually more slowly than others (in the case of social dance, extremely so), but it's often very clear to me what I want. No so much when I just feel empty and hollow and not like doing anything, but that's a different sort of affect entirely. Thankfully, these days seem to not be filled with that feeling. Maybe that is a step in the right direction.

=====

I still think about you from time to time. I feel sorry for you, and maybe a little guilty. It shouldn't have been like that. But what could I do, really? I chose my path, the "correct" path for dealing with it. I just hope that you were happy. You were, right?

2026.07

https://ddrkirbyisq.bandcamp.com/album/monthlies-202607 

I wished, at the beginning of the year, for peace, recovery, tranquility, rest, respite. Thus far, the summer has been a mild one, so my silent prayers have come through in at least one way. For the rest it is, of course, not simply up to the whims of fate, but something that I can take responsibility for as well. It has not been easy to cultivate the quiet peace that I know so well, but there have been pockets of time and space where I relish in the feeling. I know that I will ultimately not end up benig able to return to the place from whence I came, but still, I am convinced that I will be "at home".

In the moments of clarity amidst sleepwalking through life, I think to myself that I would like to be more like Her, that if only I could fold my hands, breathe calmly, and wear a silent smile, that the warmth would spread from inside to out, from outside in, through the rest of my body and heart. And like the warm light of the lantern amidst the snow, it would remind me that not all things are pointless, destined for sadness, that the in-between moments of solitude can themselves be sacred, that in the middle of our dreamwalking we are infinite.

We become what we do -- our actions dictate who we are. During those times when I feel powerless to steer myself onto the path, I shall remember that there is always a strength that I carry within myself, if I stop for a moment to let the lily blossom. Even in the heat of the summer sun, we can recall the feeling of the rain gently trickling through the morning fog. I may have loosened the threads that tie me to my past, but I still draw energy from my memories.