Beginners Guide To Stuff & Nonsense

I've been an idiot, I've had this pointless argument in my head that trust is unfounded and fictional because of our innate self-interest and evolutionary selected selfishness. But trust, like belief, or hope, is not arn argument which can be subjected to reason, and it's time to take a leap of faith. I can't believe I won't make mistakes again, but I hope they'll be different, less harmful mistakes. I think I have been afraid of changing my self-induced mistakes, to improve, because of a belief which is intruding - that I cannot be the person my family, my close friends, my lovers wish I was. But maybe I am better than I think. Maybe the universe is just deterministic enough that I could be, or am exactly the person they need me to be. Still, it's difficult when you feel like you're easily replaced, like a family getting a new puppy, or a puppy getting a new fillet steak. New and intriguing is someone or something else, now you're chewed and worn, except for those who have difficulty letting go of the old. Like an old leather jacket I cannot help but love those I've become accustomed to even more. Now we've been together enough for a comfortable fit, replacing that feeling splits the seams. That isn't to say I even know if I won't want another puppy or fillet steak ever again, which seems kind of selfish. Yet, the heart wants what it wants. There's nothing worse than loving someone who's never going to stop disappointing you, because they won't change. I can't help but feel at fault when she needs someone else, I kept hurting her. Why do that? Who did that make happy? Is she happy? I just want her to be happy, and I thought it couldn't be possible with me. Life experience teaches everyone who survives long enough that eventually any action will always have consequences. Part of being a mature adult is learning to accept them and take responsibility, so after doing wrong, apologising is necessary. I'm sorry.

I've been thinking about my irrationality, and I've come up with a rational explanation. I dislike letting go of the past, especially the good moments which form the foundations of my memories which compose my sense of self. So I cling to any negative interaction in the hope that experiencing bad things beats forgetting that anything ever happened at all. It almost works, but all I'd have to to is change reality to fully realise the grounding for the reasoning. I didn't start any of my relationships, but I had the chance to end them before things became terrible, but I didn't, because I love her because I'm human, all too human, and it's human to hang on. That's because nobody can be truly rational about their emotions, otherwise they wouldn't be emotions. The rational mind wants everything to be physical, tangible, because that would make the reality of our emotional lives simpler - unhappiness could be cured. Misery, anger, regrets are difficult things to reconcile the rational self to dealing with, which wants to medicate or reason problems into nonexistence. I have unresolved issues, and my relationships embody the unresolved issues. I've made the choices I've made because I'm a deeply unhappy person, but even in despair everything I do I've done to fix my life, because I need sympathy, because I wanted to piss people off, because I can't get over anything, or because I was moving on (or trying to), because I want to know what it's like not to live in pain, or because I wanted to feel more pain because somehow even through everything I feel I deserve the hurt.

It's not over, but at best I can only say I completely miscalculated. All the hurt feelings I've caused never disappeared into the mists of time which heal all wounds, at least not yet. They came directly back to strangle me, because nothing which matters is ever over.

Last night was an interesting one. A great way to ring in the new year, being around wonderful supportive old friends and forging interesting new bonds with those people moving from online friendships to IRL. From sight-unseen to new friends, such a difficult journey of discovery for everyone involved, I'm amazed we do it. I'm happy I've done it, I feel braver socialising with people I know little of than jumping from cliff-faces, or risking my own life. I suppose I feel in those activities the solitude grants a greater degree of certainty in that I know what I am thinking, but I cannot ever know what someone else is thinking - even when their communication is as raw, as honest as possible.

My oldest, closest, dearest friend, the biological father of my ten-year-old son, is clearly still feeling the loss of his much beloved maternal parent even after more than a year. I don't think we ever really, truly recover from that particular loss - I don't think we're ever really meant to. This person who carried us in a specialised organ, or even if they're not our biological parents, there is a special bond of caring and love which is the most enduring thing in our entire lives. It would be more strange (not to mention mechanical) if we did recover from such a severance quickly and completely. Through their continuous acts of love, good parents refuse to allow children to "fail to thrive", because of their emotional this intense emotional bond. They are our models for life, for compassion, for understanding - but they are mortal, like the reality we find ourselves populating. This is a strange and hostile place we find ourselves alive within, this water-soaked rock floating and spinning through space around a ball of burning gaseous light which lives and dies in the same breath of fusion-fire even as we do, such connection we have, yet we are bound by distance from each other as far as our planet is held in isolation by gravity from the sun, orbiting slowly, aphelion, perihelion.

Which brings me to my beautiful lover whom I've treated so badly. For two years I've behaved abhorrently, refused to open up and tell my feelings to, refused to treat well in deepest fear that the bonds of intimacy might tie me tightly when to be tied up in every way was all I wanted. I am responsible for disrupting the course and flow of our deepening feelings, and I feel like a misbehaving child who needs a scolding and a spanking. I want to scream, "It was all an act of defiance!" but there's nothing I can do except admit responsibility and hand my head. The abused child has become an abusive adult as all the awful things I've done to fight this emotional life of the heart have returned in spades to slash my dreams for the future. Defiance in the face of wisdom enough to return good affection might be likened to swimming against the current in an endless, slow moving river. Rather than splash in futility it would be better to do nothing, to sit on the bank this powerful and great course as, indifferent to your preferred direction, it flows as it will. Carried from independence by this flow, my thrashing has turned me away from closeness, now there is nothing to be done but longing for a return to closeness. A return to safe, shallow and slow-moving waters in preference to rocky white rapid flows of turbulent times. Longing and hopefulness much characterise this gravitas outlook of predestination of the life of the heart, we less choose our emotional lives regarding others as are wholly immersed in the flow of feelings they create for us by their actions and our interpretations of their affection for us. For me, this kindness, this understanding, this gentle forgiveness is like a warm decalcified spring water source in the high mountains, a source of immense immersive longing for greater connection.

My hoped for lightening of mood from apologies and unburdening of secrets has arrived ahead of any expected schedule. Still feeling a little sad, but there is much more hope. Have used far less medications in the last 48 hours, not feeling the best physically but that's okay - last night I slept naturally without the help of medications for the first time in weeks. Tomorrow I will be able to go home and lie in the pool, then take a long relaxing shower, and rest in my own bed. I wish I had someone to share that thing with sometimes. Still lonely, but I feel better, the process of opening up to people, one person and several people in particular which I've initiated will definitely be a long one, with some failure to reconnect but so far much more success than I'd anticipated. Am hoping to express my feelings for someone which I've had since 2014 soon. Admitting that rather than express affection I'd rather be abusive to excuse my withdrawal and isolation coping mechanisms is very hard. I hate to think what I've put people who feel close to me through, I can't excuse it, but I can try to change my ways. Today am just playing video games with friends, and I took a nap on their couch for almost two hours while downloading a 68GB game, they've gotten so over-large in some cases. I really enjoy video games, I wish I had a system capable of playing them well, as soon as I'm more financially secure next year that will be a goal to achieve. My new year's resolutions are to continue the trend of open honest conduct in an effort to change myself into someone I like more completely.

Feeling slightly better today. Still sad from difficult conversations yesterday and last night. Came out to lots of people, trying to decide what the criteria for doing so ought to be, so selected several people I've known for years who I've pulled away from intentionally and isolated myself from because withdrawing from intimacy they were seeking was easier than being brave, open, and honest about my personal history. I'm not feeling any kind of overwhelming need to go public, but I feel some people in particular were owed an explanation. Also, I've been apologising for past misbehaviour as well. It is making me feel sad, but eventually I hope an unburdening of sorts.

Rough day today. Tough decisions to come out to people, admit responsibility for past bad behaviours, avoidance, and keeping guilty secrets from my past. Very difficult conversations. Teary-eyed, but determined to change my life.
Back sore from too much sitting unsupported. Surgical scars hurt, but improving.
Looking forward to reconnecting with some people I haven't seen in a long time and some only a short while, hopefully will be able to make two days out of the house before returning.

Preparing crab cakes as per an SBS network Food Safari episode from the USA where Mauve O'Mara interviews a man who gives his recipe for Chesapeake Bay crab cakes in a New Orleans style with a spicy Remoulade. Very delicious, but called for a handful of parsley. Usually there was parsley growing in the garden but today it along with several other plants which haven't been faring well have been removed by the new gardening service. Lacking parsley, I defaulted to dried herbs but decided to pick a sprig of mint from the lone remaining plant. Uncustomarily, I didn't take the time to shake the sprig before going inside. I will never forget this action again. Further, my washing of the herbs was unsufficiently attentive to detail, something I will never again omit, but moreso the vigorous shaking of freshly-picked herbs. Back inside the kitchen, slicing the mint I noticed a small green caterpillar, and had time to pull the knife back, but was in that state of flow that motor neurons activated by the cerebellum provide and was unable to stop... gashing the poor creature almost clean through, in what would probably be around the area of the thorax-head. Mortally wounded, it thrashed and seemed to exclaim its utter distress. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't... I was careless. I'm sorry."
Suddenly anthropically personified through apology, the tiny thing seemed to regard me through black eyes the size of pinprincks "You were careless? My life! My beautiful life! I was supposed to have been a butterfly... my life. I wanted my life." as, in possession of a nervous system or not, it writhed as the juices of its tiny life flowed outwards through the gigantic wound.
"I'm sorry." suddenly tearing up with remorse that my lack of attention had callously murdered this tiny thing, I tried to put a quicker end to its suffering, and probably even messed that up.
Moments of carelessness like this don't often cause eye-watering emotional pain, but there is the occasional exception however irrational it is. In this case, it was a caterpillar, which was eating the mint plant, and a small insect which any number of other animals which populate the garden would have eaten without a second thought. In the end, it's more the inattention leading to the needless death which can unnesscessarily burden the soul. Certainly I don't think a desire for minted peas was rooted in much but innocent intentions, but for the sake of how testing these experiences are sometimes, executing my intentions will involve more care.

I bought early-access Godus because I managed to make myself believe for an instant this would be a return to good times had with Populous. Godus is the game 22cans made with funds generated by iOS users crazy enough to fund their previous, depressingly mercenary project-game Curiosity. I didn't like the concept of Curiosity, feeling it traded people's curiosity for money (and gave a random person a sense of importance). A more important question than whether you ought to play Godus would be: "How does Peter Molyneux continue making games?" The answer being foolish people such as myself continue to fund his hit-and-miss efforts. Let's just say I feel foolish for spending money this way, and hope my decision can be redeemed with the full release.

Other terrible Peter Molyneux games include Black & White, B&W2, Fable, Fable 2, Fable 3, and a number of other games which never made it to market (Project Milo). However, excellent Peter Molyneux games include Populous (the reason I bought Godus), Dungeon Keeper... oh and he produced Magic Carpet and the original Syndicate. With a track record like that, it's difficult to say, based on an unknown element of involvement in game design/programming/production, whether future games are worth it. But it's clear projects with Molyneux in a design/programming role suffer less critical acclaim than projects he produces.

For what it offers players for $20, Godus is only slightly less of a one-sided money-making venture than Curiosity, 22cans say they "thoroughly enjoyed developing our dream game", which misses a salient point. If developers enjoy their work more than players enjoy their experience--something is wrong. What's wrong is that the early access release of Godus isn't fun. By their 22cans combined, Tim Rance and Peter Molyneux seem able to ignore all feedback while marketing terrible game after terrible game. Even after Lionhead Studios' failures. This is probably due to the insatiable hunger of stalwart adherents in the United Kingdom and France for more locally-produced endeavour.

Godus isn't fun, because this sandbox game clamours for your attention like a an irritating hallway monitor, while simultaneously demanding action on your behalf to continue functioning. When you attempt to play in your sandbox, you can't move even a grain of sand, for want of not clicking on what you're supposed to. Good grief, don't you know anything? Better flash some icons to spawn modal help windows filled with irrelevant information explaining why you're so stupid you can't understand the highly intricate concept of repeatedly clicking on things while drooling. To put it bluntly, playing this game is like working with Filemaker Pro through a Zynga interface.

They've said with this early access release of Godus that they're aware that the game "involves too much clicking" and that this and other obvious gameplay deficiencies will be remedied in the final release. Perhaps buy the early access edition of Godus if you're especially tired of your current mouse. Or if you need something to ease any Farmville-esque cravings suffered while jonesing for a Facebook dopamine fix. Early access Godus costs $20.00 -- Cookie Clicker is free!

There are so many Godus elements which would be conspicuous by their absence, here is a list:

1. Obvious elements which will be soullessly used to market virtual hats/cards for cash.
2. Obvious game design for mobile platform (to be monetised for extra cash).
3. Obvious design choices to keep players chained to their mouses forever in the hope they'll swipe their credit cards... for extra cash.
4. Game comes with 50% off voucher for a Razer Naga, so you can use all the buttons for clicking.
5. Clicky-clicky-Clicking on subjects' houses to obtain belief.
6. Clicky-clicky-Clicking on subjects' houses to force them outside to build new houses.
7. Clicky-clicky-Clicking on subjects in utter frustration because they won't do the above, and even when they try, their actions occur at well below snail-pace.
8. A game where making yourself multiple coffees isn't an essential element while waiting for ages of civilisation to advance at 1:1 time-scales.
9. Clicky-clicky-Click-dragging to sculpt landscape which expends all your resources, then rubber-bands back into shape rather than being sculpted.
10. Timers which stop randomly for tens of seconds with 1:24 on the clock.
11. Annoying beeps demanding you click on alerts which display modal timeline menu showing things a tooltip could have related more easily.
12. A game extremely derivative of "From Dust", but less visually appealing, or mechanically rewarding.
13. A game which isn't a terrible money-grubbing attempt to have a game to play over your girlfriend's shoulder. Sorry, did I say girlfriend? I meant wife.

To put all this in a less frustrated way: From Dust is much better than Godus, and has a very different pedigree, being designed by Eric Chahi who also designed Another World. From Dust was released in 2011 and is $14.99. Since I enjoy God games, it's best to conclude this review with one which is far superior to and and cheaper than Godus. Have fun playing "From Dust"! :)