A Sort of Homecoming

It's 23:23 of December 5th, a Monday night. I'm tweaking out hardcore from drinking my very first Monster energy drink, and it is without doubt the most disgusting thing that has ever putrefied my tongue ever ever. I'm drinking this terrible sludge because I need to pull an all-nighter in order to finish my work on time, which is fine, it's just that I've never done that before.

I realize I haven't written anything in over 3 weeks, which is my longest unannounced hiatus ever. This is bad for a number of reasons.

1. I am going to be a writer for a career. That means I need to write as much as possible.
2. I use writing to unwind and decompress-- I haven't been able to do that for the past 3 weeks.
3. I got my 6,000th view and WASN'T THERE TO SEE IT.
4. You all want to know everything about me! Right? .... Right?

So, I'm treating this post as a sort of return, a reincarnation-- a sort of homecoming. I'm just going to be listing a few things that have been going on with me, and tomorrow (if I get a chance-- if not, later this week) I'll give you the second section to my music suggestion series, Sharing is Caring.

First and foremost, I got a girlfriend. Weird, I know-- I didn't think I had it in me, either. Technically, she started it all and initiated the relationship. She's a short one, with beautiful, long, curly black hair and mad curves with a smile that sneaks up on you and steals your attention away. She asked me out for coffee one night, and after a follow-up date to my favorite Vietnamese restaurant, I knew I needed to stay after her.

Second, my penultimate semester at my community college is slowly (and stressfully) coming to a close.  I had a hold on my student account because some joker who worked in the library missed checking in ONE of my returned DVDs, and so it was counted as late and I was duly penalized. So, I got that figured out. After that, I needed a book for one of my finals, and it only arrived 3 days AFTER THE FINAL WAS DUE. Baaaaahhhhghghgh!!! So, needless to say, I've been kind of Hulking out the past few days.

Third, I'm working a lot. Too much, in fact. I'm beginning to smell like bread all of the time. Delicious, yet distracting. It's getting kind of exhausting, but the people are great, so it's no big deal. I've made two fast friends and I look forward to continuing working with them.

Fourth, I'm starting to return back to my roots in Eastern thought, which is proving to be a welcome comfort as the vice of the end of the year closes around my scrotum. I'm making more time to meditate, drink green tea, and study the Dao as well as learn a bit about Reform Judaism (which is best Judaism in my opinion) and a bit about the freedom (yet social inequalities) of Hinduism, just for funsies.

Fifth and finally, I'm beginning to realize who my true friends really are. I've been going through a handful of hardships, and the ones who have been there to clap their hands on my shoulder have been proving a wonderful source of strength, so to all of those who have seen me at my angriest, my most distraught, my most off-course, my most un-Dao, thank you for sticking with me.

That's all for now-- Time for me to get started on the second half of my all-nighter.

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Thanks for reading. Stay human, my friends.

Community College Blues

I'm sitting here, more early in the night than late, eating instant noodles with a Bob Marley shirt on, listening to public radio.
I don't think I can get more College than this.
I say that, but a few of my friends from "real Universities"
May read that and get pissed.

Today I met two new people because I couldn't resist showing off my German skills
(which, anymore, don't actually exist)
And within five minutes of talking to them, I was already on the topic of why high school sucked.
I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.

I stopped in on an Asian Diversity Club meeting, despite being incredibly not Asian, because of the offer of free food.
And a cute chick.
But mainly free food.
I'm kind of a dick.

I hung around for 12 hours of doing nothing despite having attended classes that I enjoy.
It was a little bit tiring.
I did some philosophy readings, Emerson and Prothero
So my neurons are still firing.

This rhyme scheme isn't working
So let me change it up.
And if you like it,
Maybe drop some change in the cup.

I'm staying up late, writing about War Paint
and domestic restraint
and social complaint,
but I won't faint
I'll let my pupils dilate
As you let your hips gyrate
As I orate
And dictate
And narrate
In a spoken word Vulgate,
Like a holy book from Heaven's Gates

And just drop a clever little notion,
About how each one of us is an ocean

At least, so said a poet that I admire.
But don't forget to respire,
Because before we retire
I would like to repeat words like barbwire
So just call me a surefire squire knight,
Because community colleges are all right
And all these little nuances that I think they're having
Are really showing me exactly how to stay savvy.

I just wrote this about 5 minutes ago, a bit of freewriting to make sure I'm still exercising my brain. 

If you like my writing, you can join the site to the right of the page, like Speaking with Storms on Facebook or follow me on Twitter and Google+ . If you have questions or just want to chat, I'm on Formspring too!

Thanks for reading. Stay human, my friends.

The Symphony of the Universe

Symphonium Universi

The world is singing! Do you hear it?
The world is singing. All you have to do is listen.
On this spinning globe, there is so many millions of expressions of life!
They all are singing out in a beautiful choir of existence,
That hits me like an earthquake that brings me to kneel
In reverence. I can’t help put part my lips to sing along with them.
When all the noise is blocked out, and you stop to listen
You can hear it.
The world is singing.

I sit on the floor, with eyes closed and ears eager to listen.
The familiar pat-pat-pat of raindrops on my window
Ushers in a welcome rain.
Nature is has lifted its voices too.
I hear strings and voices in the Wind, drums in the Earth,
Horns and cymbals in waterfalls, raindrops and rivers.

Now I know why sages travel to mountaintops, prophets spend months in the desert
And the wise know the value of quiet.
It’s not so they can get away from the world!
It’s so that they can get closer to it.

We are part of it! Do you hear us singing along?
Hallelujah, we sing!
Let all creation join in!
We are here, we are alive!
Let us do what is good and right
And let the innumerable expressions of life create!

If you like my writing, you can join the site to the right of the page, like Speaking with Storms on Facebook or follow me on Twitter. If you have questions or just want to chat, I'm on Formspring

 and Google+ .

Thank you for reading. Stay Human, my friends.

The Dog Days Aren't Over Yet

I've been getting into the local (Twin Cities) art and music scene a lot lately. I've found myself continually wanting to go into the cities. The suburbs have been driving me crazy lately. They have no personality, they have no realism. They're just one house after another after another, and they don't have any soul to them anymore.

Seriously, does this look exciting to you?

I know that an apartment in the cities would hardly be any different from that, but the difference is that I'd be able to go out and get a taste of those intangible things I love: Music, art, people, personality.

However, first I need a job. I have applied at everywhere (literally everywhere. I honestly wish I was exaggerating.) within biking/walking distance, and to many places outside of that radius. I can't pay for all of my classes without a job, so among the other obvious reasons I should get one, it's more important now than ever. If anyone has any ideas/suggestions, maybe leave it in the comments or tweet it to me or post it on the blog's Facebook page.

I wrote this piece a while ago when I was contemplating my discomfort in the suburbs.

Sorry, Suburbs

Sorry, Suburbs, we've had a good run
But it's just not working out.
I've decided I need to pack up and leave.
You're just not the same neighborhood I fell in love with.

When I was a kid, I would go exploring in my back yard,
A field of endless towers of corn
And I would break the stalks, rip off the ears
And fashion myself a Samurai's sword
To wield in gallant, epic battles against invisible assailants.

I remember finding magazines I was much too young for
In a creek half a mile away.
I remember saying out loud to myself,
"Why would anyone publish something like this?"

I rode my bicycle to No-Name Park
Dug my feet deep into the sand
And felt the heat between my toes.

Now, for me, there's too much past here, and not enough future
And conformity is on me like a downtown moocher.

Each building lies in a perfect little row, sprouting up as though sown from the seeds of real estate
And being farmed by agents with perfect Colgate Total smiles, alabaster teeth shining
Like the houses they show off.

Each of those model homes flowers into a husband and a wife,
And two children (an older sister and a younger brother)
And a small, yipping dog, and a minivan, AND a Prius,
And an above-ground pool, and a wooden deck, and...
Slow down, Smiths.
Why are you always jonesin' to keep up?

No-Name Park has had a generic title forced upon it,
The creek has dried up with barren, dusty rocks biting at the shore,
And the field has been trampled underfoot by the "New Development".

From the roof, I see lawns freshly mowed,
Windows spritzed into a perfect sheen,
Two garage doors like blind eyes staring me down.
I see this pseudo-perfection and taste bile in the back of my throat.
This assembly line of American Dreams is putting me to sleep.

The Dog Days aren't over yet, despite what Florence says. I'm still trying to get a job, trying to keep the suburbs from getting to me too bad, and trying to keep my chin up.

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Thank you for reading.

Creativity in the Twin Cities

Sorry, readers, it's been a while since my last post. I've been downtown, doing creative things with creative people.

Last Thursday, the 7th, I went to downtown St. Paul with a few friends. We all are part of a collective called Random Receipts, with the purpose of fostering creativity with a light emphasis on music and spoken-word poetry. Around St. Paul are scattered pianos, painted and sheltered from the weather, in tune and everything, free for the public to play. So, naturally, a group of creative souls such as ourselves couldn't resist. We found a piano in front of a music college, and just began creating. I myself elaborated on a piece I had written earlier, played my friend's djembe, and plunked out a few melodies on the piano.

Fidelis on Piano and myself on Djembe

There was a young  girl, about 13 or 14, there with her younger brother, and she was listening very attentively to what we were performing. Eventually, we asked her to do something with us. After a lot of coercing and friendly encouragement, she sang something for us... And it blew us all away. The girl had talent, there was no doubt of that, but what really astounded me was her willingness to walk up to a group of older guys and perform something herself. This girl was ballsier than any of us there.

Then, just yesterday, we went back to downtown St. Paul to a small deli near the farmer's market. There, we performed spoken word, hip-hop, classical, and foreign music with a slight rock vibe to a fairly good sized audience. It was the first time I had done something like that, and the crowd (as well as my fellow members) were all very supportive. I met a lot of very cool people and my family and a few friends were able to see exactly what it is I do. That, I think, was the main reason I wanted to go so badly.

Left to Right: my brothers Fidelis, Joe, Jeremy, and myself

I wrote the following piece while I was at the deli waiting for others to show up-- I was the first to arrive, so I opened up my notebook, found my favorite pen and just freewrote to pass the time. I was somewhat surprised with how organized it turned out.

Black Coffee

 "No, I'm waiting for a few friends, don't mind me.
Well, maybe some coffee, black as midnight and bitter as my ex.
I do need to wake up. Don't we all?
Sure, I got up in the morning. I got up.
But I'm not awake.

I'm sorry, Miss, say that again?
Oh, no, I'm not from around here.
But, say, this coffee's not bad."

I carried this smalltalk on for another hour,
waiting for my own Godot to show up.

These days, if I have any money, I waste it.
If I have any time, I waste it.
If I have any energy, I waste it.
But, say, this coffee's not bad.
Maybe it's time to wake up.

The Twin Cities area has a very unique art scene, so I'm very happy to be so close to such a diverse movement. The best thing about the feel of the area is that it's all very supportive, very open, and very kind. You might get harsh criticism every now and then, but that's because they do genuinely want you to get better.

If anyone is interested in getting involved with Random Receipts, you can sent me a private message or leave a line in the comments. We'd love to create with you.

You can also follow me on Twitter or become a follower on the right if you're so inclined. I'm also considering a Speaking with Storms page on Facebook, so we'll see where that idea goes.  I went ahead and created the Facebook fan page, so if you like what you read, click here to "Like" me on Facebook! Thanks for reading, everyone.

The Origins of Phrenik

Phrenik is a Dungeons and Dragons (henceforth abbreviated to DnD) character I have been creating for a while now. I wanted to create a Wizard. Now, most people have a preconceived notion of what a Wizard should look like: Long robes, carrying a wooden staff with either a pointed hat with star patterns everywhere or a large hood. Big grey beard. Like Tolkien's Gandalf the Grey (or White) or J. K. Rowling's Albus Dumbledore.

When I designed this character, I wanted to pick that notion by the seat of the pants and the scruff of the neck and toss it out the window. So I searched within multiple genres while looking for inspiration, from Manga to fantasy to SciFi. I was actually quite delighted with what I gathered.

I had four major characters from my past experiences that I wanted to incorporate a small feel of. The first is Jace Beleren, a powerful mind-mage from the world of Magic: The Gathering.

"You should try to clear your mind of idle thoughts. And if you can't, I will."

Jace specializes in Blue magic and deals mainly with magic that manipulates the mind and memories. (Wow, there were a lot of Ms in that sentence.) His outfit is what I really wanted to emulate in designing Phrenik, because I really like the style of his sleeves, cape, pants, tunic, and especially his hood.

The next I thought about seemed at first to me like an odd choice. I honestly couldn't explain to myself why I wanted my character to emulate him: Doctor Who's 11th Incarnation of The Doctor, played by Matt Smith.

"I wear bow ties now. Bow ties are cool."

The Doctor has a police box that can move through space and time at will. He's lived for hundreds of years, and when he is grievously injured he simple "regenerates" which grants him not only a new look but a new personality. The 11th incarnation has a bit of a quick temper, but it's juxtaposed strangely with his old soul view of the world. I really wanted Phrenik to capture The Doctor's "Next Stop, Everywhere" attitude while being able to relate to the Doctor's shadowy past.

I thought for a while before deciding who next to capture aspects of, but when I thought of Rave Master's Sieg Hart, I was sold.

"Even one who masters the sword must bow to the power of magic."

Sieg Hart is an Elementalist. He wields the arcane power of the elements in order to protect the continuum of time. He and Jace are both where I got the idea for Phrenik's tattoos from, though I took it to a greater extent than these characters have. Again, we see the obvious no-robe, no-staff, nothing but badassery happening. I wanted Phrenik to answer to a deeper call than personal revenge, and though the short story below doesn't show it, it's something he takes very seriously.

I had these characters chosen out, and I really liked them, but something seemed missing... A certain neutrality. Jace and Sieg are both technically neutral, but they both end up serving the greater good in the end. I wanted Phrenik to be more morally grey than that. Then I thought of World of Warcraft's Aspect of Magic, the Blue Dragon, Malygos the Spellweaver.

"What could you hope to accomplish, to storm brassily into my domain? To employ MAGIC? Against ME?"

Malygos is the Aspect of Magic and the leader of the Blue Dragonflight , the family of dragons that have domain over all Arcane Magic (the kind of magic that mages or wizards use). He sadly went insane and eventually led what was dubbed the Azure Crusade to destroy all other creatures that use magic, because the thought the Blue Dragons were the only creatures powerful enough to use it responsibly. In the online game, players are required to slay him. I wanted Phrenik to embody his thirst for knowledge, his aristocratic view of the Arcane, and the ultimate moral neutrality and grey area that no one can actually prove isn't correct.

A bit of backstory: The campaign that Phrenik will be appearing in is the longest one I've ever written, and the main villain is actually an old PC (player character) that belonged to a former player in our group. He went mad for power, and while the other PCs were charged with destroying the people who had absorbed the essences of the 7 deadly sins, Immerall decided to absorb them for his own power. He became a demigod with black raven's wings, with a sword forged in the fires of the 9th hell. He killed most of the other player characters (with my full foreknowledge, as I decided I wanted to use him as a villain).

Without much further ado, I might as well just jump into the final profile that I devised for Phrenik.

Phrenik

“Immerall is one of many who would misuse magic. I will see to it that his taint will stain the spells of this world’s Magi no more.”

“If you remember only one thing you hear me say, let it be this: This world is an illusion. It is not real. And the only way I am able to do the things I do is because I have seen past it. Do not ever forget that.”

Titles: Phrenik (Taken Name), The Riddlesmith, The Eye, The Seeker, The Blue

Alignment: Neutral Good (With True Neutral Tendencies)

Race: Appears to be Human.

Age: Late 20s, Early 30s—Unclear.

Appearance: Phrenik is about 188 cm (about 6’2”) tall. His skin color deceives his ethnicity, and it is therefore impossible to tell what ethnicity he is. It is a very unique shade of brown, like coffee with far, far too much creamer. He has long caramel hair done up in natural dreadlocks, a result of many hours spent unwashed while studying and planning. He has a short Bob Marley-esque goatee the same color as his hair.  His icy blue eyes set against his other darker, mellow features stand out peculiarly. He has tattoos from under and above his left eye that sprawl over his lean back, chest, and wiry arms of eyes, inscriptions, glyphs, and other arcane symbology, but one in particular stands out on his right forearm: a name, “Melodia” . His left ear and lip are both pierced with simple silver hoops. He wears a highly detailed cloth tunic that covers his biceps, strongly-threaded pants, shoes, and spaulders, with a very deep hood large enough to obstruct vision of his eyes.

Quirks: Seems unable to make eye contact. Is constantly looking through small notebooks he keeps on his person in pockets of his outfit.  Smokes cigarettes. Normally has his hood up, but when it is not he wears black-rimmed glasses. Speaks with an unplaceable accent.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the demon came, I heard the towers that I had once guarded from all danger collapse onto their people.  A laugh still hung in the air—Though I’m not sure how I could tell it was even a mortal voice. It was a sound, that’s for sure. A hideously arrogant, agonizingly powerful sound.  Then I saw him. White hair, red eyes, long ears and black wings. 

Those black wings.        

                                                         

A man I had known for half my life ran out of the house we had been visiting and shouted, “Immerall, the Arcane Consortium will not abide your presence here! Arrakum Eyya Shin Feiuru-“

I was not aware that someone could die that quickly. The sound he made as the final syllable of his spell was gurgled from his lifeless neck is something I will never forget. 

When the demon came, I had done whatever I could for her. I had always been skilled in teleportation magic, so I formed the thoughts and spat out the words and drew the circle in midair as fast as I could. The portal opened, and I forcefully shoved her through, then closed the portal with all of my might, placing as many words of power I could to lock it shut so no one, not even myself, could follow.

“You’re very brave, young wizard. What is your name? And who was that pretty young thing?” the black-winged fiend inquired, showing his pointed teeth in a cold, mirthless smile I will never forget. He was looking at me like some hellish wolf gazes upon a rabbit that was misfortunate enough to jump into his den. 

He did not kill me, as I expected. He left me alive and forced me with some chthonian magic to watch as he slaughtered everyone I had grown up with—the whole city of Raviuk, gone. 

It was only until he left that I realized I couldn’t remember what I had answered his questions with.

I remembered everything else—My age, my abilities, my only family, the tragedy, everything… except the names that that beast had taken from me. I have the name of the girl I sent off branded into my skin, so although he tried to take her from me, I at least have her name… I now know I must find her to remember who she is to me and what name I used to go by.

Today I received a distress signal from the last few remaining members of the Arcane Consortium, my clandestine guild, who were thankfully away on their own missions that I was not of proper clearance to know the details of. 

“Immerall the Sevenfold is fast approaching demigod-level power. All available Magi are advised to flee and go into hiding, using any aliases previously unused in order to protect what few resources we yet have. The destruction of Raviuk was a fatal error, something we did not foresee. Beings of many races, creeds, regions, and powers now understand the true depth of Immerall’s power and the havoc  he can wreak. Make no mistake; we are now at war.”

Naturally, for security purposes, no names were used. But at least I have a heading. I’ll find this girl named Melodia, and I will find the others of my guild. I’ll find others who are able and willing to assist me in ending this fiend’s black-feathered curtain he has drawn over the skies of this world.