Eternal mind of the spotless sunshine

There’s going to be a segment here, under the ‘rpg’ category, that will focus on character stories. Here’s the scoop: I play RPG. There. That’s enough scoop for ya all.

The only real pre-requisite we all have in our adventures is the outline of a decent story for every character we make. And, since we’re all a bunch of weird people with too much free time and way too many splat books to choose from, we indeed make a lot of very diverse characters. Even though the builds are what eventually make the characters we play, it’s the story we write that truly incorporates all that we plan to achieve within the game - who we are, what we seek and so forth.

Today’s character is Logan Wargsong, first-born of the mighty Warsong Clan of the Ungian Mountains.

Barbarian 2/Ranger 1/Fighter 2/Occult Slayer 5/Frenzied Beserker 10

The roaring fire dwells within me. I am a son of the rock, an heir to the throne of the montains. I am Logan of the Warsong Clan. Father has set immense goals for me. He sees in me the politician I am not. The leader I intend on becomming on the battlefield, not on the high courts.

I am a warrior. A pure-blooded warrior. I revel at the sight of battle. I lust the taste of blood - my own and my enemies’. We have endured much underneath these mountains, and it was at the cost of many dear comrades, relatives and friends.

We have come to an unwelcome tranquility of late. The threats from beneath have ceased almost to a complete halt. It may be the calm before the storm. Cousin has taught me the lesson of preparing for the inevitable. All want the riches imbedded in these magnificent stones. We own the mines. They are ours by right. None may take them from us. Our livelihood is here, in the beautiful glistening materials that await our skillful hands.

Come forth, ye foul demons. Move closer to the blades of my axe. Let me quench my thirst for your blood in a downpour of your entrails. Ye pathetic excuse for pointy-eared elves. You fool none. The magic that flows within you is raw, untamed - heretic. The great gods do not shine down upon thee.
We need not the works of the Arcanum. They bring no fear to our sacred halls, protected by the light of Moradin. Sit tight, await your doom. We will all be here, eager to purify these rocks, to be done with your evil presence.

I have studied you all. I know what you are. I know everything about you. You do not fool me. Nor can you fool any of my clan. These rocks flow within our veins. We hear them, feel them and know every crevasse, every steep corner and every speckle of dust.

As I sharpen my blades the mighty horns sound. You have all come at last. It is the battle cry I have been waiting for a long, long time. It brings a smile to my face, makes my skin prickle and my blood boil.

I will get you all.

Good-bye. I bid you farewell. I have taken away all of what’s left of you here. You’re gone, out, deleted and completely withdrawn from everything I hold dear. From every part of my life.

You will only remain a distant memory. A sad, little reminder. A bad nightmare. A mistake that I plan on putting far, far away from my frontal lobe.

You’re gone. All of what I want from you is nothingness. A safe knowledge that you will never, ever exist again in my life. Ever.

I have become spotless. Beautifully spotless. Good-bye.

After a year’s hiatus, I’ve returned. Triumphant and well, decided to keep up an enligh-based blog now, alonge with my portuguese-based one.

To start off, a little quote from Tommy Cooper:

“Apparently, 1 in 5 people in the world are Chinese. And there are 5 people in my family, so it must be one of them. It’s either my mum or my dad. Or my older brother Colin. Or my younger brother Ho-Cha-Chu. But I think it’s Colin.”

See you around.

The New York city lights gave away your gorgeous glow. You were set against the wall in that terrace overlooking the East Village in your pirate outfit, holding a cup of unimportant alcoholic content, and you looked at me with kind eyes. I didn’t know you, nor could I, but I really wanted to.

You are amazing. A mexican with an american name. And I’m completely drawn to you.

The rest of the evening was spent with me in awe of your beauty, your grace, your laughter, your face. For moments I could barely feel the concrete of the rooftop on my feet. I was dancing to my own music, heartbeats that channeled emotions I had long before set down.

We talked, laughed, exchanged akward but meaningful looks. I could not picture myself away from you. You seemed destined to be part of my life for ever and ever and ever.

But then you were called by a friend. I saw you look at me with eyes of disappointment as you listened to the muffled voice of your pretty friend in a corsette too small for her volumptuos breats. You nodded to her and came over my way.

A party, you said. Another one. Someone’s going away to some distant country and you need to be there to say good-bye. I understand. Of course I don’t, but I have to make you believe I understand.

I asked you to stay. You said you wanted to, but couldn’t. So I let you go. I let you walk out without ever telling you precisely what I wanted you to know.

I needed you then. I need you now. Come back.

News on the trip front…

Since I’m arriving in NY at 18h, there will be enough time to head to the Bowery’s Whitehouse Hotel (340 Bowery), get to the nearest Cingular Wireless store to get my GoPhone and then head to Madison Square Garden to meet a friend and see if I can get a ticket to see The White Stripes. I don’t even like them, but hey, I’ll be there for everything the city can offer.

I have a plan. To watch one concert per night. And I have a cunning way to cheat that. I’m going to the Virgin Festival in Baltimore. I’ll get the chance to watch The Police, Incubus, Smashing Pumpkins… fricking amazing. And that’s how I can easily say I watched more bands than I had days in America. I’m smart like that.

Here’s the map of the whole trip… or my plans anyway…

More cities have been added. I’m going to see Dave Matthews in Hatford as well as heading to Baltimore for the festival. And I’m also going to Hoover Dam, since it’s on the way to the Grand Canyon - or so I’m told. It’ll be nice to get lost in the Nevada desert.

I also plan to visit Yosemite - dunno if at the beginning of my West Coast journey (the 20th of august) or at the end, by the 4th, 5th of september… I’m thinking that it’s best to get it over with when I first arrive. I’ll kill myself if I miss it.

Here’s the road trip in it’s fullness (and order… if I can manage keeping the order when I get there): New York, Hartford, Boston, Baltimore, New York, Washington, Philly, New York, San Fran, Yosemite, Las Vegas, Hoover Dam, Grand Canyon, San Diego, Laguna Beach (I’ll try to kill the people from the show… really will), Huntington Beach, Long Beach, Santa Monica, Beverly Hills, West Hollywood, Malibu, Thousand Oaks, Santa Barbara, maybe Fresno and Sequoia National Park, San Jose, San Fran, Miami

I really want to take Highway One all the way when I’m in California… can’t tell now if I’ll have the time or the patience… I hope I have both.

Well, that’s about it. If anyone dares read all this crap, and has an opinion to make about the trip (like places to visit, people to see, things to do, that sorta thing), you’re more than welcome. I’m afraid to look at the sitemeter stats on this thing, so I can only imagine there are zero persons reading this. Prove me wrong, people!

I’ll start posting more from now on.

I’m a’ going on a road trip.

On the 24th of this month it’s the Big Apple. Staying there for a few weeks, and in the meantime I’ll visit Philly, Washington, Boston and Atlantic City. In the middle of August, San Fran to meet up with a great friend and his new offspring. Then I’ll head off to Las Vegas for some much needed poker and the sight of the Grand Canyon before I make my way to San Diego and drive up the coast back to San Fran, returning on the 5th of September to this hellish yet exquisite Rio de Janeiro.

I’ve never been to the West Coast. Getting there in the summer makes it that much sweeter. I can picture the wind gusting as I drive my rental with the top down up Santa Monica, where all ‘em purty ladies sunbathe their way into gorgeous melanomas.

Las Vegas will hold the most surprises, I think. The lights, the people, the shows. Penn & Teller is a must. Bullshit at it’s best. I’m going to try my luck in the Hold ‘Em tables. Imagine if I come out with my trip’s expenses. That’ll be the golliest of days.

Damn me for having just watched ‘Walk the Line’. I’m all southern all of a sudden. That kinda rhimed. Not really, but still.

Oh, how the desires of the mind challenge us into becomming something we dislike. Or want to dislike, but in fact like a lot. It’s such a fine line that one begs the question ‘where does desire challenge our morals?’.

The heart has packed up and left long ago, so all that is left is this twisted mind of mine to ensure that my desires always follow a strict and sound set of rules. The look. The flick of the hair that just might entice me into believing something’s there.

Then you get the automated set of lines. The thoroughly thought out moves and glances. A distinct order of things to make it perfectly clear that everything should be heading towards a predicted goal.

You are finally able to secure a good conversation. Things are going just fine. She reminds you of someone, yet you can’t remember who. It doesn’t really matter though. Never will that line ‘don’t I know you from somewhere?’ be used, so any thought about it is quickly set aside.

As the conversations rolled on, the mindset clearly became more attuned to the inevitable tender touch and long-lasting kiss. The hands become rigid and sweat. Body temperature peaks and drops. The mouth dries up, trying to unravel the best words for the moment.

And then it happens. Absolutely amazing. Her touch feels warm and inviting. Her lips are full, moist and yearning for more. You find yourself amidst a torrent of emotions, battling each impulse as the hormones stage a siege and seem to be winning, quite easily, what should be a tough battle.

You look at her once more. Fucking amazing eyes. She smiles a quircky smile and you fall to your knees, worshipping this god-like diva that has taken upon herself to find redemption and glory to your soul - so longing for acceptance and happiness.

When the night is finally over you take her to her to her mighty abode. You stand mightly erect, proud of your deeds in the evening, hoping for a call upstairs. She looks at you with the kindest of eyes, and you melt away in the sidewalk. She reaches your hands, picks them up and drags your body as you glide through the hallway towards her door.

When you reach her heavenly morada the smell of lust sets every inch of your body on fire. You are taken my an overwhelming feeling of power and the overture to your sonata seems seconds away from fulfillment. As you look bact at her, you are set aghast at the picture-perfect sight standing before you.

There she stands. Naked. Perfect.

You hold her. This time, with a lot less poise and a lot more fight. Her struggle is a playful one. You embrace in sheer delight as your bodies twist and turn in perfect harmony. Bewildered, time seems to give way to you, letting it pass as slowly as possible, helping you savour every single moment.

There is a twist on the knob at the door. Time gives in. There is a voice calling out her name. Her husband, she infoms you, who has made himself aware to you at this very instant. She calls to your escape through the kitchen window. You run, as one can whilst trying to clothe oneself, and set your first foot across the window into the dark, heavy night. Said foot finds a ledge. You climb out. Holding for dear life on the walls of the apartment complex, you strain to hear what is going on.

A discussion erupts from within. Something about her being half-dressed. The mumbles grow louder, making it impossible to distinguish the precise words uttered. Something shatters, and a scream is yelled. The door slams shut. A muffled cry can now be heard.

Enough courage is mustered to look at the inside of the apartment. She is knelt down on the carpet, holding the broken pieces of the vase that stood by the door. She looks up and seems astonished at your sight. Her look is of confusion. You tell her of your near death experience clinging to the side of the building.

She laughs nervously. Then begins to cry once more. You slowly move towards her. She invites your hug. Then shows opens up her left hand to show you two golden rings, one on top of another. She clenches her fist, throws the rings on the opposite wall and tames you on the floor.

The night seems to last forever.

Another one of life’s curveballs. Thirty years ago, two lovebirds with nothing and no one in their path. Thirty years later, two strangers with very few things in common to sustain their up until now lasting relationship. Yet, as in so many cases, it just wasn’t meant to be.

Through thick and thin they held together a bond that seemed unlikely to be broken. Life’s many challenges were met head on, with no fear or even a slight hint of trepidation. Their feet held strong, fighting the many incomming turmoils with strength in their hearts and fire in their eyes. What seemed unfathomable became a reality. Little by little, the unfaltering connection now lays forever broken.

I can’t seem to find words to make things get better. I can see the reasons. I can see the unsurmountable obstacles that now are set before them. I can’t help but know this is for real.

We move on, as one does, with enough knowledge in the fact that there are always things to be learned. Things to be said and done. Things to be taught and things to be turned. There comes a time when things must move on.

And they do.

I laid my eyes on you the very first minute I walked in. There was no way to divert my gaze, so drawn were my eyes to yours. Nothing was expected of me, which felt good, and there I stood, looking you in the eye, hoping for a glimpse of light shining back at me from yours.

You seemed pleasently surprised at me. Calm and gentle, your body language suggested an uneasy empathy. I took that as a compliment and kept staring in my most subtle way. The world seemed quite small then. None could have made me look astray.

‘Hey,’ said I.

‘Hi,’ she quickly replied. One could sense the tension in the air. It was almost palpable.

‘I don’t know what I want,’ I mustered, ‘yet standing here makes me want to ask for something.’

‘Most feel that way. It is inevitable. Most don’t know what they want, and few get what they asked.’

‘But I feel a sudden urge to take my chances.’ Nothing seemed to be completely safe at that moment. Anything could have happened. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the unknown.

‘You must make your stand,’ she said politely and calmly. It made me feel even more nervous. My hands felt gelid, yet I saw them give away sweat. ‘I cannot allow you to stand idle for much longer.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I appologized, ‘never have I felt such a distinct feeling of numbness. My knees seem to be giving in, my hands are cold yet sweat. Try as I must, there doesn’t seem to be an answer awaiting me that seems right and rings true in my heart!’

‘I will help you.’ She said these words with a joyous contempt that instead of making me feel awkward, my hopes were replentished. ‘Time is of the essence, and I urge you to consider my innermost thoughts and heartfelt desire to make your day. I am impelled to fulfill every need you could possiby have, and in my mind this is will serve as a path towards an inevitable feeling of joy beyond your wildest dreams.’

I froze. Thoughts travelled back and forth in my mind, as those amazing kind brown eyes looked on at me. The words she spoke were the most vivid and enticing words ever spoken. I felt reborn, replentished in the notion that I was about to get exaclty everything I could have possibly wanted then. The world felt right possibly for the first time in my entire life. I didn’t want the feeling to end. It seemed too good to be true.

‘You will be most happy with our new veggie burger. It’s delicious.’ She had already set up the tray, beautifully, with the fries perfectly placed beside the coca-cola cup. It seemed almost poetic. An artwork of sorts.

‘What the hell, I’ll have a double cheeseburger as well!’

She smiled.

It was the happiest day of my life.

As I sat there, looking at all of you, doubt and uncertainty clouded my every thought. I knew my time had come to speak, yet I felt as though nothing needed to be said. It didn’t seem like I needed to portray what had happened. The feelings of inequacy amidst everyone’s portruding eyes was overwhelming.

Words made their way out. Slowly, one by one, piecing the puzzle set before me. You all looked on, directly at me, and I never knew if those were eyes of acceptance, of critique or of simple awe. I have told this story many times, in vastly different scenarios, yet this was the first time I felt a little different when telling a story tired of being told. My hands felt rigid. I had a distinct feeling of belittlement, when all that I have felt in this matter up until now has been of pride and power.

Some of you looked on, hoping for a glimpse of emotion from me. Yet the story came out as it normally does. I made a few less jokes this time around. I didn’t know how anyone would react to me taking it so easily. Cancer is a serious word to most people, yet it meant so little to me that I tend to scare everyone when the topic comes up. Today it was if all that I mustered within me to withstand everything made less sense. I should have felt this way, that way. Anything but the way I indeed felt about it all.

I will never change my position on this. Today made me even more aware and sure of that. As much as it might seem psychologically inadequate of me to have so many filters, to feel so little in some aspects of life, I still feel very proud to be who I am today. The way I deal with things has made me, these past years, into a better person. I am sure of this. No one will ever prove me otherwise.

Change is asked of me, and I will do my best to fit whatever changes I deem necessary. Anything not needed or wanted will be left aside. This is how I am. This is who I am.