Tag: Friday 500 (page 8 of 10)

500 Words on Personal Space

Today I’m taking a break from talking about stories and games. Today there’s something on my mind that really bothers me. Since it’s not personal, I won’t be tucking it away in a note or text post elsewhere. It’s going to be here, for all to see. Because not only is this bothering me, I think it’s important.

We all have the right to some personal space. The more we can get, the better, especially in times of trouble. Sometimes, our circumstances dictate that we only get a small measure of it at home. But public parks are always there; go for a walk or drive, find an out of the way park, wander away from the parking area, and just breathe for a few minutes. Get away. Escape, if you must. Reclaim some personal space, even if it’s in the outdoors.

I’m not just talking about physical space, either. As amazing as the human brain is, there’s only so much room within our minds for things on a day to day basis. It can be occupied with tasks at hand, projects to complete, concepts for new endeavors, recollections of the past, and hopes for the future. It can also start to get crowded by other people. The concerns, needs, and imposition of others takes up headspace. It occupies personal space. It crowds out the thoughts we need for ourselves.

We want to be there for our friends. We have moments where we are the ones in need, as well. Neither of these things is bad. It’s part of human nature. But when you start to forcibly occupy someone else’s headspace because you can’t stand to be alone, or you’re overly worried about something, you become selfish. Friends will be there for you, yes, but you can neither expect nor demand that they sacrifice all of their time and resources for you and you alone whenever you want. A legitimate, extant crisis is one thing. The anticipation of something that may turn out better than you expect is quite another. If you want your friends to still be your friends, and you want them to be there for you in the former, do not crowd out their personal space in the latter.

Let me give you a specific example. You have something coming up that worries you. You contact a friend for support. This is fine. You have a conversation with them, maybe two. Sweet! But then they start not answering your calls right away. You follow up with a text, and do not get an immediate response. What do you do?

If you continuously text, get angry when they do not respond, call them selfish for not giving you their attention when you demand it, and get angry when they give their attention to others instead of you, you’re not only taking up their personal space, you’re making a mess in there. You are decorating your so-called friend’s personal emotional space with your bullshit.

Be a friend. Stop that.

500 Words on Vera

I named my car Vera.

I think it was almost 5 years ago that my old car had a close encounter of the highway divider kind. I picked up a black Honda Civic coupe from a company called CarSense, and she already had a custom exhaust and great pick-up. Considering she was the very best car I ever owned, I made a deliberate callback to Firefly and named her Vera.

She’s run pretty well over the last few years. I’ve had very few problems to speak of. But now, she’s 117000+ miles into her life. I’ve paid her off completely. And now, she’s started developing major issues. If I were to get absolutely everything fixed, I’d be spending about half of her trade-in value.

I know that other cars have lasted longer than this. A lot of people put a ton of TLC into their cars themselves, extending the life of their modern chariots to ludicrous levels. I respect that deeply. And I know that older cars were built to last. They were not built to support an economy of replacement parts and second-hand labor. They were built, simply, to work, and keep working.

Vera’s been a companion for a long time. She’s been to and from Canada several times, crossed the state of Pennsylvania, and getting to and from PAX East could have been a lot worse. She’s comfortable to ride in. I upgraded her radio recently so she syncs with my iPhone, plays music from a thumb drive, and sounds fantastic. I’ve always liked the thrum of her engine and the roar of her acceleration. Until the last couple days, she hasn’t let me down or left me stranded. She’s been reliable, quick, and tough.

For years she’s had a dent on her driver’s side. After getting wanged by a post on the way to Canada during some nasty weather, she continued to run just fine after she got pulled out of the ditch. She’s worn that dent with pride. I guess there was a part of me that thought of her as kind of invincible. She even gets good gas mileage – 33 or more miles to the gallon on the highway. Not as good as a hybrid, or the Tesla I’ve been eyeing up, but decent.

I’m going to miss her.

I’m contemplating trading her in. I don’t know if I can trust her for the entire drive out to Seattle in August. It turns out that even after these repairs are done, she’ll develop more problems, possibly sooner rather than later. I feel like a family member has been given a medical diagnosis with a questionable outcome. I really don’t know the best way to proceed. I guess I’ll figure that out over the next few days.

Either way, I don’t think Vera will be my car for very much longer.

It’s been a long trip. A good one. It’s had ups and downs but I’ve survived, and so has she.

Thanks for everything, Vera. I’ll miss you.

500 Words on Headspace

Courtesy floating robes
Courtesy Floating Robes

I hate whining. I loathe making excuses. When I break down emotionally and start blathering about why I can’t keep my shit together, I feel like a petulant 4-year-old, throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get his way. I’m an adult, I should be able to just roll with whatever abuse comes my way, shrug off the anguish and just do my job, right? Isn’t that what everybody else does?

I’m not sure why my brain is wired like that. I don’t know why I get at such odds with myself. People get hurt and go through rough patches all the time. There’s nothing new about it, and it’s nothing that should cause an over-abundance of shame. Yet I struggle with it. Even now, I find myself getting distracted far too easily rather than hashing this out.

It’s hard not to feel like a good portion of my time has been wasted over the last few years. Sure, I’ve learned a lot about corporate culture. I’ve made some very good friends and I have at least some salvageable work experiences. However, I’ve taken “work where I can get it” rather than really trying to cultivate my actual core skill set. I’ve “gotten by” rather than applying myself to a craft that I both have some real talent in and feel good about producing. I’ve tried to cram it into narrow gaps of time and opportunity rather than making it my primary focus. I’ve been untrue to myself.

I think that’s where a lot of my angst comes from. I know I am, in essence, wasting my time. And time is a precious thing. Life could end at any moment. Traffic accidents happen every day. Everything from falling masonry to leaking gas can be fatal. Hell, I could drop dead at this keyboard right now from an undiagnosed blood clot in my brain or something. I am keenly aware of the fact that we only get one shot at making ourselves the best version of ourselves we can be, and I’ve been failing in that for the better part of a decade.

Now and again, that version of me does break the surface. And even when I’m wrapped up in the obligations and distractions that I allow to impede me, I try to be informed more by generosity, justice, and duty rather than frustration, spite, and rage. That doesn’t always work out for the best, and I know I can’t expect brownie points for trying. But I do try, dammit.

I can’t undo the mistakes in my past, be they big or small. But I know the past me is dead and buried.

The future is unwritten, but I hope the future me is better than who I am today.

All we really have is right now, this moment. And I feel like I’ve been letting more than a few days go unseized.

That’s Carpe Diem for you Latin/slogan nuts.

And yes… I suppose “YOLO” applies.

I’m just so very tired.

500 Words on 100(ish) Days

Courtesy Creattica.com

Seattle, I miss you. And I’ll be there soon.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Philadelphia. There will always be a piece of me out here on the east coast of the United States. But I have spent years, close to a decade now, kicking around the suburbs north of the city trying to find the right niche. Most of the time I’ve just been happy to be employed and keep a roof over my head. But over the last couple years, the feeling has grown that I am stagnating. And stagnation leads to frustration and loneliness, two emotions that I have a great deal of difficulty controlling.

I don’t want to take anything away from the people I’ve lived with and near since I moved back here from the western part of the state. There are people who have been instrumental in helping me keep my head above water, friends that have helped me see my potential, and individuals who have been behind me no matter what. I’ll never be able to repay the debt I owe to all of you, and I’m not going to forget you when I leave.

But I will be leaving. I’m moving to Seattle in August.

I believe that change is good for the soul. I have spent most of the aforementioned decade not changing all that much. I’ve been focused mostly on immediate concerns and the requirements and desires of others. My family would be the first to say that for years I’ve struggled with a ‘martyr complex’, often putting aside what I’m doing or what I want to try and make things better for other people. I haven’t been believing in myself as much as I’ve believed in the lives and companies to which I’ve contributed. Standing up for myself is something that does not come as easily to me as it should. Fighting for something I want, that I truly believe in for my own sake, tends to get filed away in my head as ‘selfish’ and thus a negative thing. However, I’ve come to learn that if I want to make any headway in this life, if I want to improve where I am and work towards the goals I have in mind for myself, I have to be selfish. I have to stand up for those things. I have to grow, and change, and move.

Why Seattle, you might ask?

The opportunities for me to write as my profession are better. The job market in general is an improvement. The saturation of friends is staggering. I’ll be closer to more game developers, who may be looking for writers. The mountains are lovely. The ocean is beautiful. I have walked its streets, and felt more at home than I ever have in Philadelphia. The coffee, the food, the events, the music – I could go on.

I’m posting a countdown here. It’s the approximate time at which my father and I will hit the road together.

I’ll see you there.

(Image courtesy Creattica.com)

500 Words On Bigby Wolf

Courtesy Telltale Games

When it comes to game design, I understand that it’s difficult to craft an experience that’s unique to every player. If all goes well, your game is going to be played by more people than you can imagine. When it comes to video games, you’re likely to have a protagonist and, if they’re not silent, they’ll have a personality. The challenge comes in when you cast that personality in such a way that it can be altered by things the player chooses to have the say or do. What motivates these choices? How do other characters react? And what impact will these choices have on the future?

Case in point: Bigby Wolf, from Telltale’s Fables adaptation, The Wolf Among Us. I just finished my first play of Episode 3, “A Crooked Mile”, and while this definitely feels like both a more substantial episode than the previous one and the right sort of complication the tale needed to maintain steam, something is bothering me. Bigby, as given in the beginning, is a somewhat gruff character. He’s not given to social graces for the most part, is viewed with either fear or distrust by most, and has a reputation of letting his temper get the best of him. I like this as a backstory, but not necessarily as a rule. Bigby now lives in a world of skyscrapers and concrete, a very different forest than that of his past. Would he really be so obstinate as to not change?

For my part, I think he would not only need to change, but he’d want to. Wolves are territorial, and Fabletown is Bigby’s beat. He’s been through enough to understand that he can’t just huff and puff his way through his situations. He has people he admires and others he wants to make amends towards, to ensure the past does not repeat himself. This guides the choices I make throughout the game.

What bothers me is that these choices do not feel entirely significant.

While the messages that tell me certain characters will remember things I say or do remain effective, it still feels like certain conclusions are foregone, if not inevitable. As much as I am allowed to choose my path both through the game’s branches and as dialog continues, all roads tend to converge in the same way. The story being told is by no means bad, but my impact upon it, both as a player and as Bigby, has yet to feel truly substantial, save for one or two fairly big decisions.

I still dig The Wolf Among Us enough to see it through to the end. The art direction, music, voice acting, and overall storytelling remains exemplary. The Bigby I am playing, however, does not feel terribly distinct from how he might be played by another individual. This is a complex character with deep emotions and individual, variable motivations. He can, and should, have modes of behavior and operation other than just huffing, and puffing, and blowing your house down.

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