You’re Wearing Red Today.

You’re wearing Red today.

I usually alternate between two pajammies: an oversized green T-shirt from my sister’s university, with light silk bottoms that flow past my ankles. The other pair is an oversized loose maroon shirt that could almost slip past my shoulders, with a thick cotton candy colored PJ bottom that is much too big for me.

Very comfy.

But I couldn’t find the latter outfit and saw this old red tiger T shirt from years ago, when I was maybe 7, from a time when Koreans are much too obsessed with soccer championships. I threw that on, plugged in my headphones, and out of the mundane I heard, and remembered, the most normal detail.

(I wrote this some months ago, but I never published for some reason, so here it is now.)

You’re wearing Red today.

Unconscious Fear, or a Pervasive Reality

I’m awake.

Something is moving me forward, pushing me towards a crowd of noise. I don’t remember how I got there, but I’m suddenly trying to escape the old church building we used to attend.

Outside, from a conglomerate mix between the pastor’s back door exit and the youth room’s side door, there is abundant space packed full of people. I think they were high school kids, just like I was in that moment. I seemed to have torn clothing, my thigh exposed, and I had never gripped my sister’s hand so hard before. My sister? I see a chain of my two sisters and my mother, joining hands and squeezing the life out of each other in an attempt to stay together. At this moment, I had a faint moment of lucidity, like a beam of light filtering through a shaft in the terrain or brush. It did not last long, when I heard people screaming all around me. The entire crowd, their faces growing in terror, were howling in fear at something ahead of us. I had never felt so small before, until I looked across the nonexistent playground area, towards the empty parking lot and the boundless, now soulless, meadow.

My eyes stuttered at the immense vast clearing of the parking lot. Was it even a parking lot? I knew the area was the old church building, and this space was where the parking lot was to be. But it was not. It was almost melded in this half watery state of concrete and mush. Perhaps, I thought my brain conjured the area to carry the air of real familiarity, but maintain the natural habitat of what the following horrors were to reside in.

Shambling Mounds.

Yes, Shambling Mounds from DDO. Isn’t it weird how much one can dream of a video game? I generally forget my dreams within the next couple of days, but I can’t shake this off for an entire week. I suppose that would classify it as a nightmare.

There were three Shambling Mounds, two giant ones and one gigantic one. The largest was closest to my side of the crowd, and it was like this Attack on Titan scene where it would just swipe a vine wrapped paw and a mob of people would fly into the air. It was also much more gray, more soulless than any of others. There was supposedly blood, because I saw several people dying and mutilated. I don’t know what made this so scary, but I went into shock after my sight slowly and painstakingly revealed this abomination. I cannot begin to describe how terrifying it was being so small and seeing this giant. My heart fell into my stomach, and my neck froze, with sparks jolting down my back. I couldn’t move, and I felt like my hand was about to fall off. The two smaller ones proceeded to move towards the central crowd, which surprisingly, we had our own Shambling Mounds…!? They were actually humans disguised in costumes, and they were easily taken down after a couple tried to fend them off. They were no match, and their heads were taken, I think.

At this, I had a fight or flight response. I lost my family as I fled, and the largest one seem to take notice of me. I felt like I was going to cry from immense fear, when it started gaining towards me. If you know how a Shambling Mound moves after it charges up, it is freakishly fast. I couldn’t breathe and just kept running down that skinny sidewalk, and bolted inside the church front door.

I don’t know why I thought it was a great idea, but I first fled into the chapel. It was mostly empty, but a few people were in there. It was eerily calm, but I kept seeing images of the Shambling Mounds’ figures and shadows up against those beige, slightly tattered window blinds. I ran out of the chapel, and into what was to be the kids’ worship room. But, I did not see the colorful Christian murals against the walls. I did not see the messy table, with crayons and markers strewn about. I did not see that small tall window, with the old emerald stained glass and its rustic gray window handle, to let in that sweet spring breeze.

Instead, I found a tall, handsome man sitting in a chair with the long burnished oak table stretched out before him. To the right, there was a firm gray couch, and the room seemed almost his own. A bookshelf to the left wall, decorative rugs embracing the cool ground, and a long stretch horizontal window with a large tree covering almost half of the view outside in a crescent like form. He seemed to radiate safety, writing something on a piece of paper. It was probably a letter, but to who?

At this point, my hair was disheveled, my eyes wild with fear, and my tattered clothes exposing almost half of me. I would have felt embarrassed if I was not in such an alerted state. I begged him to let me hide under the table, since for some reason, I thought he would keep me safe from those Mounds.

But he gave me a look of knowing, something that I couldn’t quite explain. I want to say he nodded, although he didn’t really speak much. He let me crawl through the space, and he shielded me with his body when I heard the door bust open.

Two burglars? Two assassins? I couldn’t tell who they were, all I could hear were their gnarly voices. I knew it was two people, but for some reason, I was just as afraid as if they were the Mounds. My heart dropped when the man hiding me spoke. He was dealing with these people, and they knew I was hiding somewhere, but he was neither deliberately protecting nor giving me away. I thought I was gonna run out of breath at this because they started searching the area, everywhere but the desk.

There was not a lot of leg room in the depression of the desk, so I had to curl into a ball and press against the lateral face of the desk. I remember barely being able to breathe, almost passing out from the amount of fear I felt when I saw one of the men from the periphery around the corner, barely able to see me. I think he actually did.

This was when the other man slammed his hands and body over the top of the desk, and gave the tall, handsome man a test. Now, what I am about to say is going to make no sense, but I believe this was the gist:

If this square piece of paper that I dangle right over the edge of this desk is snatched by someone, then the person that we seek is not here. But if it remains dangling, then she is under this desk.

This sounds absolutely ridiculous. But this somehow made perfect sense. All I had to do is snatch the piece of paper without showing myself. But I also knew that this was the ultimate trap into revealing my oh-so-hidden location.

The man placed the tissue-like paper over the desk, and my heart pounded so hard I was sure he probably felt it through the desk. But the square piece dangled for another minute, and then he started counting down from 4. I panicked, 3, but in almost a film-like hesitation, 2, I placed my shaky hand up halfway, before retracting slightly, and then finally, softly placed the paper between my thumb and index.

At this, the man gripped my wrist so hard I flinched and sent the paper flying. But it was already too late, he had found me. Yet, they pretended not to notice, and I think they actually smirked, according to my omniscient sight. I noticed the man who was writing the letter was barely shielding me at this point.

The man who gripped my wrist suddenly moved back, called his companion, and decided to leave. I want to say he said a few words to the man writing the letter, but I’m not sure. It sounded like a blurb. It was so arbitrary and terrifying at the same time. I crawled out from underneath, and just like nothing had happened, the tall man in the chair continued to write. I splayed out against the firm but fuzzy leather gray couch. I still feared the Mounds would come for me, and I did see a shadow of the largest approach from the right side of the window. I held my breath, and suddenly, I was granted the courage to run out the front door: there was some sort of golf cart with my family driving it. As if that would outrun the Mounds, because it did.

We were driving in a… weird state. I was somehow in the front of the hood, yet also strapped safely, and I had to spread my feet out, so I could feel the plants and flowers softly brushing through me. It was much like the dream scene in Spirited Away when Chihiro is moving through the tall brush (by camera) before she meets her “pig” parents. We were driving into some flower garden that was near a Six Flags. I do not recognize this place unlike the first area. We drive, and I feel the soft blades of tall, tall grass; grass, flowers, and plants all taller than me and the weird vehicle! My youngest sister would tell me I smelled like something, something bad. But I rebutted with, “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I smell like flowers.” And all of a sudden, stalks of delphiniums overwhelm us, but the aroma is not overpowering. It’s strong, but mild — bold but with a natural subtlety. Petals fly into my face and it is almost peaceful. A calm mood descends upon me, finally free from these strange horrors.


I wake up seeing that same, large shadow on the ground before me, but I’m too afraid, or too late, to look up.


I used to be unbelievably outgoing when I was younger.

When I think back, its nostalgic, but I think some people would think its weird. I used to be friends with an old lady and two middle aged mothers, my sister and I. We’d go over to their apartment and clean for them, or walk their dogs (surprisingly, two of them both had dogs, and one of them had a Persian cat and a ton of fishes). Jan was the name of the elderly lady, and I can’t remember the middle aged mother, but her son was in the same grade as me when I was in middle school. I guess we’ve been hanging out with them since then, until we moved away during the freshman year of high school.

We met Jan when she was walking her two Pekingese dogs (Andy and Amanda) one day and we instantly fell in love with them. They really were so adorable, its too bad we didn’t have cameras or phones “back in the day.” We’d often allude them as ourselves; Amanda was the feisty one like my younger sister, and Andy was more of the calm yet derpy one like me. One day, Jan showed up less and less – she was taken care of by her daughter who was around her late twenties or early thirties, I think. She always had problems with her knee, and she was going into surgery soon. I remember they’d always let us walk her dogs before all this happened, but when I think about it now I imagine they were immensely grateful that we would always come over and walk their dogs. I think I remember them asking us formally if we could, and we were delighted to help. Its funny because we were dense as kids, and so we didn’t ask for payment. I think it was better that way – Jan wasn’t an employer, but our friend. I can’t remember every detail, but certain memories are still vibrant.

They didn’t tell us anything, probably because they felt we were too young to understand or something. I wish they did, because at times when I muse in my past memories, I wish I had known so that I would understand it later in the future. Even now, I still don’t know where they are anymore and where they have gone. Back then, to me, email was not used so much until later on. To talk to them and catch up after all these years would be beyond amazing. Still, I am sure just as I think about them at times, they might remember us fondly (hopefully, we were crazy kids).

I did call Inga’s mother once and we both talked for a while. Inga was really young, much younger than us – I think she was maybe 6 or 7 when I was maybe 13 or 14? I can’t remember. But these friendships were genuine – perhaps in ulterior motive, we just wanted to be around pets since we could never have one of our own, but over time in my childhood we would “explore” the apartment complex and meet so many great people – that place was the place where I grew up in and that was our world.

I remember Kelly, the girl who was maybe 3-4 or so years older than us. She was very mature and crazy in a reserved kind of way, and was kindhearted to hang with us, who probably were kids in her eyes. It’s amazing to me how I was not affected by the age gap stigma, but as I’ve matured, I’ve realized how much I’ve changed, even when its not outwardly.

A wave of memories overflow me as I type these words, I can be very nostalgic at times. I remember so many good and happy memories of my sister, my childhood friend Mary Lou, and all the embarrassing ones too. Both the good and the bad, I look back favorably. Sometimes, in my quiet world of thoughts at night, I would like to express many important themes regarding my childhood in art, somehow.

Up until now. The change is unbelievable – I am no longer the kind of person to reach out to anyone in real life. I’ve always been shy, but the person I am today rejects and dislikes any form of real life social contact. My sister always gets on to me about not spending more time with her, and there is usually a sinking feeling, no, maybe more of a sigh, when someone asks to go hang out. Its not the people themselves that I dislike company – I’ve become nearly entirely reclusive. More and more each day, I am paralyzed by laziness and anti social tendencies, but I’ve never thought of it as a bad thing. I’ve always been comfortable within my own bubble, plugged in to electronic music, and typing away, whether to chat with online friends or expressing my thoughts here. In such a loud, bizarre, chaotic world, music sweeps me away from outside distractions, and games immerse me from any stress nagging at me. That doesn’t mean I don’t think about important things and neglect them, but if I did not do this, I think I would be hypertensive because I am the type of person constantly thinking about things. When I am immersed in this new world of mine, to me, it almost becomes an artistic expression – the stories that I make up for my characters, the expression of my true self here, even the tedious list of things to do in DDO – everything is what gets me so passionate about this game, blog, whatever it is that I love doing. I can only dream I could make a living by truly following my artistic conduct.

Sometimes I surmise and try to explain why I’ve become this way. Maybe my life, that didn’t seem as traumatic as I thought it was, shows in its own psychological form. In that case, would that mean I’m a weaker person that I thought I was, and that all this time I have been putting up a facade? There are these deeper thoughts I wonder about randomly. All this time, I’ve never once thought of my being changing (which to others apparently is dramatic) as a bad thing. I had already subconsciously and gradually accepted the reclusive part of me, as it was the type of person I have always been deep down. There was a reason why I was always considered quiet as a kid, that I’ve always preferred thinking to myself. My mind was the only safe place when people would reprimand me, or when I was emotional (in both good and bad terms). I remember strongly that I would always whisper to myself, which has stopped after my older sister pointed it out and I would have to mentally stop myself ever since, thinking it was a bad thing. Of course, when she started doing it, I reverted right back, but not as much as I used to. Ahh, the psychology of social ethics.

The definition of “fun” back then is surely, not even remotely the same as I would define it today. I think a lot of people would not understand me on what I think is fun on what seems to be an addict’s ritual. I’m a repetitive person until I burn out, when it comes to music, grinding in game, etc. I wonder if I would ever stop playing DDO, and sometimes I do get tired (as I am right now, definitely burned out from constantly reincarnating). But all in all… I am truly passionate about DDO. I know there is a difference between fanaticism and passion. However, they are the same to me when it comes to things I love, and I am sure that is how other people may view their interests too, with a sort of fanaticism that we cannot help. I guess it’s just a matter of deeming whether their interest is ethically right or wrong – I know that some things aren’t right to be fanatical about of course (this is for you political/philosophical peeps). Perhaps that is how the others view me.

My thoughts are always random, but I find that artistic. It’s kind of how I set up this blog to be as a ramble spot, but I know that can be annoying for those who read traditional blogs. It reminds me of dreams, which I vividly remember most of them on the day I wake up (of course I forget the ones after a while) – both spontaneous but coherently fluid enough for comprehension. I’ve always been the type of person to muse a lot on my dreams and nightmares, and maybe that has even translated into my thoughts and how I organize them in regards to my experiences and the world around me.

In the end, I may be completely different a decade from now, just as I was a decade ago. My friends and family may love or hate me then. It can be scary thinking about this, but identity has always been such a huge question to me. I’ve always followed in my older sister’s steps, but I’ve never made enough tracks to identify in my own footsteps. I loathe thinking about the future in regards to my education and future life in general, so much that I sometimes almost wish I don’t have to worry about the future once and for all. Of course, I wouldn’t go that extreme in actuality, but I hate it that much. Because of this, this has been one of my top prayers for when I do pray (forgive me!), but the answer is still unclear after all these years. This is where I am at my weakest. Even when I am inspired (which I have been lately) by pieces or art or the like, it appears that I am too far in this sort of inner paralysis to do anything that I would want to do but cannot.

“It is a long way forward,” but I am trying! Even if I’m taking snail paces, the realization of all of these as of recently is my starting point. The lagging pace in my gaming time in DDO recently has sparked something for me, and thus this frustration of these thoughts were poured forth. The frustration of not moving forward in both life and DDO. For the first time in forever, I wanted to draw. And now, before I fall asleep, I wanted to write about this. I have the worst habit of doing that. But hopefully, I’ll be able to change that and make room for other things than DDO – I want to.

The biggest inspiration that got me thinking about this, writing about this, fighting about this, was Porter Robinson’s Shelter. My sister showed it to me and at first I was impressed mildly, but after watching it over and over and over again on my own, the isolated world there was what resonated with me and all that was happening. Maybe in the future, I won’t be lagging behind as much, sleeping in as much, and putting forth my real motivations to action.

The hardest thing I struggle with: putting thoughts into words, words into action. I am but a hollow shell, really.

“Cuteness” Factor

OK, so I have the weirdest thing I’ve been wanting to talk about for ages, but didn’t exactly know what to call it or explain it.

Ever look at someone’s toon and think “Omgosh… they so cute/adorbs.”? Maybe I’m crazy, but I think that almost ALL the time.

Certain thing about the way people “move” their toon, how they look, even how they act via text chat (never really occurs with voice chat since we pair up  voice with actual persona as opposed to online persona) affects the “cuteness” factor.

Like earlier today, one player that I know (who is one of the best players I know) was playing a Deep Gnome and she was just so adorable! When I think back, his Shadar-Kai wolf was also really cute!! Maybe this has more to do with race, but even his online persona complements the cuteness – he hardly talks but when he does, he occasionally uses the “:D” emoticon. Now I know some people overuse that (cough cough me cough) so it wears off the cuteness factor in a sense, but when its used at the right time and the right amount on the right toon… cuteness overload.

So definitely, race does play a huge part in this “factor.” For instance, its hard to think a bulky Purple Dragon Knight takes any part of the cake in “cute.” Not to say there aren’t any, but just more difficult than say, a Deep Gnome. Personally, I find Deep Gnomes much more cuter than Halflings (since I have played them myself too) simply because of their facial structures that accentuate more of the adorable appeal than the serious, distinct features of Halflings. Their gait is also different and follow the cuteness pattern much better than any other race. I also have to say Dwarves are adorable too – they aren’t ridiculously buff like PDKs, but they are stout and fluffy enough to be lovable!
Any character under the category of a normal sized wolf or bear form (Druids) fall in my book of adorable too! When a wolf is shifting its weight to the left or right when scanning the view, it is reminiscent of a wolf sniffing around almost. The same applies to the bear form, except it is with its jumping – when a bear jumps up and down, its tail…!!

One of the other weird things that really stands out to me particularly is when a toon abruptly moves, as if it were shocked briefly by a jolt of awakedness or confusion (or both!). I have no idea how this = cute, but somehow it does in my mind. I’m weird.

And as I mentioned before, even the textual context of the player him or herself can enhance the “cuteness” factor. Appropriate emoticons, even the grammar and spelling of how someone speaks all count. I find it so strange and amazing at the same time that I somehow cannot explain this but understand it so well. I’m sure lots of people know what I’m talking about, well, at least my younger sister I know for sure!

I can’t really think of anything else that I find cute or what leads to that “cuteness” factor, but I know this just totally sounds like a bunch of random babble about some floating, undefined thoughts!! People probably think I’m creepy too (Chrys says so too)! Then again we make fun of each other for being creepy/ier. Sighhh, haha.

😀 /creepy smile

Random Wishful Blabber

I know it’s not New Year’s yet, but I’ve kind of determined to do some things for a change!

First, as you might have noticed, I have been blogging a lot more. I think during the days when I am waiting for my rides (or moments when I just absolutely have to pour my thoughts out) I will make a post. While it’s hard to come up with topics sometimes, I just have to think harder! 🙂

And then there’s DDO. So many things I want to do! Especially with Night Revels out – I looked at the list last night and there are just so many things I want to get all of a sudden for many reasons. Rawr!!!

But I’ll get around to that. I wanted to make a list of things I wish I could do in real life just for the fun of it. It could be seen as a bucket list, but these are likely things I’ll never get to do until I go out into the real world on my own and during my own time.

Things like walking outside around midnight, taking a stroll through city alleys. It’s so dangerous, especially as a woman, but the night is just so relaxing! Even though I can see the stars more clearly here, it’s still feels so crowded – it’s not the full sky I wished I could see. I’d have to go more west for that! xD

That would be so much fun too. Just laying down in the grass and feeling a cool autumn breeze, just looking up at the starry sky. The skies here aren’t photography worth beautiful I’m sure (looking at you, Photoshop), but at least it would be natural.

Or singing and dancing on the empty streets, which only happens in movies. If only I could be a ghost for a day to do all these things, where people would pay no attention to me and I could truly bask in the comfort of solitude!

There are so many moments in this world that I enjoy and imagine – waking up to the sound of rain, in a dark, empty house – the simple, good old-fashioned (after reading Windixie years ago, this adjective still has not left me) rain. Or the opposite – waking up to gleaming rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds and making dancing patterns on my blankets and across the room. During the days when I was on summer, fall, or winter breaks, I’d remember all of these awaking moments after a long day of hardcore DDO. And when I’d wake up, I’d relish in all these natural moments of bliss before plunging into a “different kind of reality.”

It’s not just nature that I have this magnetic attraction to but just nostalgic, or meaningful observations. Remembering my older DDO days and connecting them to my younger days as a kid – it is astounding how changed I’ve become. I used to be a lot tanner than now, and talked to anyone and everyone – I’d walk dogs for people around the apartment with my sister after simply meeting them once, eventually even cleaning their houses and enjoying another’s company. Perhaps it was selfish intent to just pet the dogs. Yet now, I have become much more introverted, reclusive – not necessarily a bad thing (although I do miss my younger self sometimes) but being the same and one person, I know that this is just another part of me. I may not be the same as I was in the past, but my reactions, personality, and choices that make me who I am in game – perhaps that is my younger self locked away and only allowed to show online. It is staggering (and I cannot explain this myself even) how different I am online versus real life – it is like the two are not even the same. Sometimes I wonder if I have some kind of split personality! xD

But that is when I am thinking about that on a grand scale. I am sure there are more subtle details and characteristics that make me who I am.

Like every teen out there (well, I’m turning 20 this January though, but still 15 in both heart and appearance), I’ve always wondered who I am and who I was meant to be. From a religious perspective, what does God want me to be and how can I be useful to Him? What is His plan for me? I’ve always wanted to know what He had in plan for me, and whether I am travelling down the right path. If not, I’m sure He will guide me to the right one – but I hate to waste time. What can I do to be the most efficient?

Wondering who I am and to follow whatever God wants (yet not having any idea) has been something I’ve prayed about for so long. And there are many other knots related to this but I won’t go deep about that! At least, not in this post.

As mentioned, I’ve always been intrigued with the concept of identity. It’s kind of the deeper, philosophical theme behind Sera’s backstory too as a result. If the things I do, what I like, what I choose, what I believe, so on and so forth don’t fit into a single “type,” I feel uneasy. Maybe that is society trying to fit us all into one box. I should appreciate the uniqueness of my character, just like with others’. I wonder if I had a false perception of a healthy self esteem all along then.

So many things to ponder and wish for. I still want to ride a bicycle again down a street with billowing, leaning trees brushing past me – to feel the breeze run through my long hair (now that its finally really long again – ugh good bye short hair kid days that’s for sure!!). I took a nap at campus which sucked because it’s still blazing hot – but there was a relaxing subtle breeze at least. Couldn’t really sleep in peace because there were too many people around, and when I did “wake up,” I had a headache from the heat. Ugh. I shall try again when a more appropriate autumn day rolls around!! 😀

When I was younger, I used to take strolls around this one nature park – there was a walking path around a large lake. Sometimes, my sisters and I would venture farther past the usual, shorter route along a second lake and into the woods. It would always exhaust me, but I look back and remember in fondness – the musty air surrounding us with sounds of crickets and snake rattles in the tall grass and annoying duck quack-demanding us bread. I remember being so happy to finally sit on a bench (they need more benches as rest stops though) after walking only a bit – hey, despite being the energetic kid that I was, I was still a kid! xD We’d watch the occasional pure white crane that would stoop into the swampy area or glide across the surface of the lake, or peer across the water’s edge to see turtle backs or snouts.

Along the second lake route there would be these rich houses lined up beyond the perimeter. I remember seeing black eyed susans protruding from the chrome black gates and making fun of my older sister (Susan) for that. Then, the perch out from the lake past the forest – I can’t find the right word for it but it was a sort of a balcony that extended into the lake. It reminded me of even older fishing days as family vacations out in Houston or Galveston. It was a nice experience the few times I went out there, I remember my family loving it more as I was more intrigued by the forest itself. The woods kind of reminded me of a “Japanese sidewalk on the way the school with cherry blossoms fluttering about” except this was more of a musty area, more natural and realistic, and certainly more Texan.

There would always be these blue bonnets that would bloom on the right side from when we exited the woods. But after a certain point, they stopped blooming. I think around that time we had stopped taking walks together as a family too.

I suppose one could say I used to spend a lot more time with my family back then. And that DDO has changed me to turn a blind, un-hearing ear to them. I know I can never go back to those days, and that I’ve changed so much to where its difficult to utter simple things like thank you or I’m sorry, but these memories will always remain here in fondness when I think back to those days. Sometimes I may become so unattached and hateful, and I wonder if I don’t really love like I should. If that’s the case, then what is it? When I still feel something when I shouldn’t, or when I should?

There is some relevance to DDO at least too – they often say games are a place where people escape from reality to. Sometimes I wonder if DDO has become an alternate reality for me – a place where I can project my desires and my own reality to. Not necessarily playing as my character in self identified role-play – but to create stories related to my own experiences, and enjoy them vicariously through my characters. To experience and relate to things I wish to do in real life in game where it’s possible – to be absolutely alone in a space. Well, I suppose that is all the more possible with DDO’s current population. Hehe.

I wonder if this is how “creators” feel – story writers who create a character and make them do this or that – sometimes I wonder about the characters’ minds too. If they are given a personality, what if they didn’t want to do or be X? Perhaps I am overthinking way out of bounds now. But these are the random flow of thoughts that I have!

I think DDO has changed me for the worse and for the better. Family may say more worse – but that’s because the better part perhaps has more to do with my own being. Something that I would know but not them because I hardly express these things anymore. In fact, it is strange that I am even blogging about this, but I tell myself that this is a personal blog/diary – it is only appropriate at least, so that I can tell myself about it. A place where I can organize my thoughts and feelings – something that I am horrible at in real time.