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       #Post#: 233--------------------------------------------------
       Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: May 21, 2012, 4:38 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       In a large round sitting room who’s ebony wood walls are
       delicately curved in a concave manor stretch out to allow the
       three arm chairs plentiful space. The layout is akin to a tear
       drop with the bottom portion chopped off, the ceiling ending in
       a single point, and the floor a circle adorned with rug of
       living woven roots. There are no doors in this place but a
       single mirror drapes itself on one portion of the walls. There
       are a few adornments around the place but they all have a
       surreal, symbolic quality, becoming hazy when not directly
       looked upon.
       The three men in the room are gently conversing over something
       nonspecific. One man in a brown earth tone leather jacket with
       tufted autumn hair is relaxed in one chair to the left of the
       large mirror. He smells of sandalwood and roses.  The vampire
       sitting in the red velvet chair opposite the mirror is dressed
       in mostly black with plentiful splashes of color, has an
       unhassled look about him even when discussing things of grave
       importance. The third man, sitting on the right of the mirror,
       of only 17 years is a fey of the animal variety. He no longer
       slouches as he did so many years ago, although his fetchers
       still mimic the mocking bird with a hooked budging nose, he has
       a shaven head, so only his eye brows reveal the feathered
       quality that gives him his airy laugh.
       Here sit the three aspects of Thomas S Miller, a man known as
       nurse, student, friend, lover, spiritualist, and teacher.
       Although there is never a way to shortly describe anyone, here
       sit:
       The Ego, who searches for inner peace and balance, Stephen…
       The Superego, who desires self modification, and self
       realization, Logan…
       The ID, who searches for happiness, Simon…
       Where is the center of the whole, the one who is truest
       “Thomas”?
       He is the room itself where all aspects sit. He is the moment
       before the realization “I AM”. He is without thought, without
       conception of form, and without the limitations of time or
       space. He is the divine spark that is housed within, under, and
       alongside the body others see with their physical eyes.
       This series of conversations are taken directly from the mind of
       Thomas as he delves deeper within to find who he is and as he
       shapes himself to be truest to his soul.
       #Post#: 248--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: May 22, 2012, 10:08 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       “So since I have been on my travels you seem to have reorganized
       your house quite a bit, I can see from here” leans towards the
       mirror and peeks through, his golden ear studs and hoops
       swinging with the swift turn of his head.
       “I have gotten rid of some paintings that lined my halls, while
       repainting a large number of others. I have seen some go that
       saddened me, for I did love their pain.” Logan remarked back
       with a slight sigh.
       “Attachment has slithered into your halls and grappled the very
       roots of your foundation; I had dreamed that one day the house
       would be liberated and free”
       “The manor itself, with many halls, rooms, and passage ways
       crisscrossing the very fabric of symbolic space of the layout,
       is built brick by brick of the attachment we wish to escape. The
       shingles are inlaid with denial for protection from the hails of
       outside opinions and the wood work was cut down from the forest
       of heritage. No, as long as the manor stands, liberation and
       truest freedom remain outside our grasp.” Logan turns to Stephen
       and politely asks, “What do you think?”
       After a pause “The extremism that both of you share both hold
       the paradoxal truths in which all exists. Although the middle
       ground argumentation Is not a quality in of itself in reasoning,
       I think and know, that the house needs” with a wink to Logan,
       “that if we put in some sunroofs and open up some of the walls
       with windows that we can adorn with hinges, we can find the
       release from the Manor of Thought, and fly out into the chaotic
       swirls of growth and possibilities.”
       “The cracks in your shell are showing” replies Simon with a
       wink.
       #Post#: 260--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: May 22, 2012, 4:53 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Logan reclines in his velvet chair and speaks to Simon, “Child
       of bliss, and runner of the wylds, regal us with your most
       recent journeys, what has happened to you, you are different now
       than when we all gathered last? I know the details have changed
       as is your races way, but tell the tale of feathered tails
       regardless.”
       The pooka sits back as well and folds his hands twiddling his
       taloned thumbs. “I guess I should start at my inception and work
       forward. When I was in my youth, I knew nothing but love for the
       longest of times, the anger that surrounded our abode was well
       hidden behind doors never opened. I lived in a dreaming world
       very early on as most children do. I found love in many places
       and around my late single digits, I began my first major delves
       into depression and feelings of where I doubted my worth. I had
       very supportive adults around me, their interactions flawed as
       they ought to be, but my relationships with them were childlike
       and good.”
       “When the problems became too great for our family to bear in
       its current state of disassociation, we ran into terms like
       “bipolar”, “early onset”, and “ADHD”. Luckily, although my
       parents were separated by distance In many ways they lifted up
       their children always as their prime motivations always. They
       taught me the value of being a great parent, one who never
       leaves despite spousal problems; they taught me how to be an
       adult and to always stay active in the lives of those you love.
       They taught me in their darkest hours how to stay human.
       Although it was not until my growing up did I realize the
       limitations of those terms to describe a condition of life, I
       found them then to be identity ridden. I found my life obsessed
       with overcoming any limitation I perceived, as is my races way,
       I wanted freedom from fenced in diagnoses. I burned many bridges
       and hurt many people when I was young. I had no handle on my
       drive to achieve my satiation of desire. Even as I moved into
       the teenage years, I sought solace in the words of wizened men
       and women of faith, but I was too turbulent still to even know
       what I truly desired. “
       “It took many forays into the world of mankind with their
       seemingly poetic grace that still dumbfounds me. They all use
       the language of man to communicate, yet always it seems so
       artificial and ineffective, with lies to themselves and each
       other always hidden beneath their twisted tongs’. It was in the
       past few months that I finally realized that “honesty” in its
       purest form is what they all desire but never give. They tell
       each other that “truth” is always prized but when given they
       become angered. When they say they want feedback, they want rose
       colored words dipped in honey and styled to fit their
       preconceived notions of what is. Anything beyond what they want
       to hear is termed, “brutal” or “harsh”, and sometimes “uncalled
       for”. So although I was stuck in the nature of lies for such a
       long time from my own heritage, and from the training of men, I
       have studied it in-depth and decided that my lies will always
       remain transparent. They will always remind others of the lies
       they spin, and when asked for utter honesty, I shall deliver it
       veiled in the visages they may not necessarily desire, but
       honesty will be given.”
       “Of what motivates me now, it is the same as you too, it is the
       search for my “dharma”, and inner peace, the tranquility granted
       by my animalistic heritage, but stretched thin by my expanded
       corpus callosum. I no longer seek to force my help and awareness
       of the lies humans traffic in unless they ask. Although I have
       gone through the evolution of soul into my wylder aspect, I have
       not lost the sight of beauty in the world, if anything, the
       darkness I have seen in the last few years have only turned up
       the hues, never fading them! ”
       Logan stares blankly for a moment… “so you know why the pooka
       lie, and you choose truth?”
       “sparingly of course” quipped Simon with his usual wink.
       “was that a bird pun?”
       “It may be poultry humor, but I like to gingerly speckle them
       into the omelet of my tales.”
       “I thinking I noticed one for me in there!” spoke Stephen
       happily.
       “Any ways yes, and of my longstanding marriage, I have dropped
       the selfishness that pervaded it for so many years leading to my
       diversions that stank up my soul. Now we live with problems of
       the man’s world, but I think we maintain our truest selves
       adequately.”
       “Is it true that you traveled recently to the east for a while
       to gain better perspectives?”
       “Could you define truth for me?” said Simon with a grin and a
       lifted eye brow.
       Logan laughs, “of course! I had forgotten to question objective
       terms such as “truth”, in all fairness, I fell that the realm of
       subjective reality has been the forefront of the conversations
       we have held so far, that we both know truth is just a term
       utilized by many to …….
       The scene fades to black.
       #Post#: 447--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: June 30, 2012, 6:33 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       With a flurry of feathers Simon jumps from his chair, and
       looking over at the mirror in the room says excitedly, “So after
       some self delving”
       
       “Are you not a means of self delving for a mortal, for which you
       a construct with delineated purpose” interjects Logan with a
       toothy smile already knowing his question was meant only to
       provoke an explanation of an idea needing a moment to prompt it.
       
       “Well, yes I am a construct of the mortals mind, but like any
       collection of thoughts, beliefs, experiences and feeling, I have
       adapted. It’s a thing called evolving, it happens when the mind
       is allowed to dwell within the confines of a personality. But
       you can call it “elaborate character development”. responded
       quite truthfully the pooka. “Like when I realized that the best
       lie I could ever tell is the truth, bringing light to all the
       illusions of expectation in social confines. It tends to strike
       others as lies when their acknowledge of reality is limited to
       such unhealthy extents as the “normal life”.
       
       “Your point Simon?” quipped Stephen.
       
       “Anyways yes, through self delving and time spent in meditation”
       
       “Again I must interrupt, do you mean that the mortal has
       meditated and self delved using you as the personality template
       for idea generation and contemplation?”
       
       “You know the answer is yes, you exist on the same level. But I
       do thank you for allowing me to make that statement in a logical
       flow of conversation.” Simon takes a breath and continues,
       pushing through the bounds of a fourth wall in the circular
       room.  "I have realized that my aspect of the whole mortal is to
       maintain the childish nature of hope, and the dreams of
       pleasure. Passion, joy, bliss ect, BUT, I need another component
       to help fill in the vacuum of need for the aspect of the ID. So
       I have found a character dwelling deep within the mind for some
       time now. It had been introduced a few times in different
       settings in small ways, but the inhibition of our host’s
       sexuality, and the “chosen chastity” of the past 6 months has
       led to his growth.”
       
       There is a ripple in the surface of the looking glass on the
       small portion of the rounded walls. Stepping out from the
       quicksilver surface is a burly man of average height, but
       defined muscles, trimmed facial hair in a goatee, his red-brown
       hair same as Stephens. His biceps give his neck a run for their
       money in width, and his chiseled abs could cut glass. His
       privates are obscured somewhat by the thick red-brown fur that
       covers his goat legs, and his manicured wide hooves have a
       powerful feel in their steps. The horns on the satyrs forehead
       have an elongated slender feel to them and go from a scarlet red
       ending in black tips (though you have a feeling this guy changes
       his horn colors to match his outfit. In this case the outfit (if
       you could call it that) consists of his birthday suit, a black
       leather vest unbuttoned and tight fitting, and a black leather
       belt with a small flask upon it.
       “This is Gin. He was born a druid from our hosts first character
       ever made in an RP setting, and he has grown on the unfed
       desires of the flesh. He got a good run for his money during the
       hosts community college years, the whole “black out drunk 4 days
       a week and sex 3-4 times a day” time period. He gathered a lot
       of strength when the changing moralities of our host were being
       shifted, and instead of the guilt of his youth in the desires of
       the flesh he felt, Gin had garnered a sense of self with the
       validation of the primal feelings that birthed him. He really
       only dips into one branch of fey magic, that of primal, but from
       communing with the spirits, and the other powers, he is pretty
       content with his love, and embrace of nature.”
       
       “How come we never knew of him before this?” said logan
       curiously.
       
       “Have you seen or talked to the host ever?” Retorted Stephen in
       a mildly snarky tone.
       
       “Its nice to meet you all” said Gin. "I have been hanging out in
       the back ground without a place to sit."
       
       At that it seems another chair has appeared in the room, though
       it looks mildly like a sex toy in form, but it is closer set to
       Simon’s chair and retains the triad of seating, the two
       components of the ID set together so.
       
       “Simon has helped form my flesh so to speak and helped me
       realize that, instead of having my components lurk in the dark
       unspoken for, I can help the host, as well as all of you, if I
       exist here, allowing to aid in reflecting myself in you and
       letting their be a voice for the primal senses.”
       "He always represents the goals of the workouts, healthy eating
       and such when motivated by sexual desires of  being "attractive"
       to other. Dont worry stephen, he does not infringe on your goals
       of doing it for a balanced life and maintaining health, but feel
       free to work together. it might make things easier." interjects
       Simon.
       Gin shakes everyone’s hand “I look forward to working with you
       all, Logan I have been reading your journals you left in the
       basement of consciousness. I really like your idea of getting us
       all together more often, yet still maintaining the hosts sense
       of identify”
       
       Stephen puts up his hands “I do admit that although I am trying
       to reserve myself as the ego, there continue to be dissonance
       between myself and what is felt. I had reservations when I took
       the job, thinking that metanalysis of oneself cannot be used in
       a game setting and still retain its deep meaning. But I think
       through my actions I have kept fairly close to the intentions,
       though there are moments when I am tempted to branch off and
       change without the consent of this council, knowing our guidance
       is best headed. There seems to be an organic echo that arises
       between myself and the events and reactions of the host. So
       fingers crossed” he finishes with a wink.
       #Post#: 817--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: July 21, 2012, 3:34 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       “Does it ever strike you as odd that the most honest your are
       about yourself is on a forum based in fantasy?” Logan asked
       Stephen.
       “No I have long since accepted it as a format in which truth is
       the lime light of things.” He responded honestly.
       “You have deleted the one negative and sad facebook post you
       have had made in such a long time, well that the host has made
       in such a long time. Why?”
       “ I have learned in some overt and subtle ways that the world of
       not so darkness”
       “The real one?”
       “Yes, not the world of darkness but the legit one, can be so
       full of horror and evil, and vileness, and suffering and hate,
       and putrid thoughts, that if I ever embrace them, I really do
       become a part of them.”
       Stephen pauses for a moment. “I realize that my will to stay
       positive, project positiveness, and to own my rose colored
       glasses, is what keeps my emotional stability.”
       Simon inserts “Yes, because bipolar mood swings in the manic
       direction is stability”
       Stephen looks happily at simon and says “well yes in a way it
       is. I have the entire spectrum of emotion to exist at and I know
       my triggers that set me off to each level, given the emotional
       spectrum is a linear thing itself”
       “ehem, stay on topic” says the satyr in the group, who seems to
       be the only one not wearing pants suddenly.
       “fine, but yes, I choose to trigger my hypomanic states, for it
       is so much easier to play with the bounds of bedlam and quiet
       than it is depression and banality. Although it is set in the
       analogy mages and fey both view the same things, I mean is in
       the different ways they do as well.”
       “You confuse me sometimes” says the satyr.
       “If we ever don’t, I think we are doing it wrong” responds logan
       in a joking voice.
       “Hey well I have something else bugging me!” says simon.
       “You haven’t voiced anything bugging you in the first place?
       What is it?”
       “I heard a story of a romance ignored that was labeled as a
       friend of mine, but I know that it was an analogy for someone’s
       feelings for me, what do I do?” asked simon.
       “Simon you know that there are people here who may read this and
       know of whom you speak of, why on earth would you say it then?”
       asked Stephen in a voice that lets the reader know he already
       knows the answer.
       “Because I am secretly asking for advice or acknowledgement from
       those who do know what I am speaking of” replied simon in a not
       so lying voice.
       “I think you are misusing this post!” logan says sitting
       upright, knowing his words only go to reinforce the pookas
       point.
       #Post#: 932--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: July 31, 2012, 2:08 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       “After all this time in thought, what have you decided to be?”
       Simon asks Stephen.
       With furrowed eyebrows he responds, “Well I think I am finally
       moving past the resistance I have had to the illusions, and
       embracing them as just a new set of rules to a game everyone is
       playing. I have realized that I have let my heart show on my
       sleeve for too long and in front of too many people. A spider
       recently taught me how to weave a better mask.”
       Lifting a golden and silver silken mask from within his jacket
       he places it upon the bridge of his nose covering his upper
       portion of his face.
       “This is going to protect us all and allow us all to interact
       with everyone else better. We can continue to hold our morals
       without fear of their rejection as long as we put the false ones
       on the front of this. We can continue to wander among the other
       worlds without fear of the disbelief of others. We have lost our
       ability to disguise our experiences in the trappings and verbal
       decor of the outsiders that had once served to foster
       understanding. “
       Logan’s Cheshire smile reappeared upon his face, “We had started
       using our personal vocabulary to express our world with others,
       forgetting to translate!! Of course those sentiments fell on
       deaf ears, we did not speak their language!”
       “Precisely! We need to make sure we adapt our tongues to theirs
       and embrace their personal semantic webs. We once knew well how
       to do this, coming from settings that required it. But we
       drifted away from this as we tried to share our inner truths and
       attempted to breach the illusions of societal trappings.”
       “So it is purely coincidence that your of the toreador blood
       line? The socially fluent breed.”
       “I think it may have been a subconscious messenger harboring
       this understanding. But regardless, the outer world of illusions
       and falseness will now deal with this council united and unseen;
       we can use this one mask, whose silken threads are re-weavable
       and quicksilver. We will unsediment our permanence and
       solidity.”
       Simon stops and stares blankly at a new realization as he states
       in a quiet and whispered tone, “We have lost our chaos and
       flux.”
       “Ironically that was the one thing that allowed us to maneuver
       in this realm of lies and illusion predictably and
       successfully.”
       “Surly, the stability we seek does not come from the chaos of a
       quicksilver mask. If we were to do this though we would need to
       reset our programing possibly making global internal changes to
       the host.”
       “Yes, but we would be able to successfully share our truths in
       the accepted lies of the illusion society!”
       “I really dislike not being able to share the purity of the
       love, light and magic of the world with everyone…..” interjected
       the satyr.
       Logan reaches out and rests his hand upon the hooved an behooved
       fey, “This is the best way we have right now of doing just
       that."
       The group of four thought forms all come to the middle of the
       room and each takes turns inscribing their soul names upon the
       internal portions of the mask. They form a pact to all hide from
       the world of lies through its own devices and requirements.
       They know that there will always be places in which they can
       take the mask off again. But for the sake of living and gaining
       acceptance in the world of lies, they need it now.
       Stephen places the mask upon his face again and it seems to be
       embraced into his flesh.
       “Now that we have that agreed upon, who is up for talking to the
       tree spirits, working on our enchanting skills, and re-mastering
       divination magic?”
       “Don’t you need to study your herbal lore? You have a test
       coming up in a few weeks.” Logan points out to Stephen.
       “Okay, I think for now I will just stay focused on our daily
       meditations, and cleansing spells.”
       Logan stares at Stephen.
       “While making sure I get back to my herbal lore.”
       The throng of thoughts all laugh merrily.
       HaHaHaHa
       HaHaHaHa
       HaHaHaHa
       HaHaHaHa
       #Post#: 1086--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Inner Workings
       By: patchworkmind Date: August 14, 2012, 2:46 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       “So you removed everything?”
       “No. Not everything.” Stephen looks up slowly to face Logan. “I
       put all the masks up save for one, the one of us smiling at the
       school function in a very non-manic way, subtle even.”
       “so subtle a smile”
       “Okay maybe I over exaggerated, but everything I felt
       represented me is removed from the book of faces. I don’t know
       why I thought that deconstructing a virtual alter to my identity
       would not have resounding effects internally.”
       “Even as you say that, I can see how impulsive and short sighted
       the event was.”
       “I just learned one evening that the world of illusions was
       still beyond me and that a large part of my understanding of it
       all was being held back by a solidification of “who I am” and
       although I was moderately happy with what that was, I did not
       like the solidity.”
       “Is not the goal of all our efforts here in this town to
       construct a visage that is conducive to being a health care
       worker? Is the permanence of that outward and inward projection
       not a solid thing we wish to keep?”
       “It is … but it I see now that I cannot wear that mask as my
       own. It needs to remain separate more than any as an identity.
       “Nurse” must be only a character I play for forty hours a week
       and I need to leave that mask at the places I work…” Stephen
       hangs his head is silent defeat for a moment.
       “I know you have been trying really hard to become this “thing”,
       this “perfection embodied”. This standard of over the top duty
       fulfillment, this attempt to “be” and really become the standard
       that your teachers and preceptors have presented to you as “the
       perfect nurse” has kind of lead you down a path that leads to a
       place only fruit full of sadness and disappointment of the
       self.”
       “I know. This is why I need to where the mask at work and any
       setting where I need it but maintain my truest self everywhere
       else…. and I need to make sure that I am not also trying to
       project any other image for right now. I need the whole of my
       other moments to be a place where the truest of myself can be
       expressed and more importantly explored.”
       “What do you mean explored?”
       “I mean that when I came to this group of friends, I sparked the
       recollection of certain roles in the minds of others and I ran
       with them. Any label that I have allowed myself to become a
       holder of, is a trait that is artificially confining me. And
       while I enjoy parts of that identity I have built over the last
       three years….. it is not me just as much as it is me.”
       “The freedom of a blank slate to be painted anew only destined
       to be renewed later and removed.”
       “Why build it in the first place?”
       “Think not so much a blank slate but just taking my coloring
       outside to chalk the side walk in front of my house. The picture
       I intend to draw is real enough for the moment, but when the
       rains come, I will happily redraw a new one, with more details,
       more vibrancy, and even sometimes with more pretty lies.”
       “Is this all a lie then? Just another illusion to be
       maintained?”
       “yep. But hell, what do you do when you play in a LARP? you make
       a character and explore it. How is this really any different?”
       *****************************************************