An Evolving Disciple

A bit of writing on an old project. All you need to know to follow this segment is that sedo is a mortal race of people, and that the sedo feel that the immortal Shiiten-sa are demons. Otherwise I've been working with this overarching story line since I've been 17, so just think back to anything else you might have seen or heard from me that was Oria related. Updated 3/25/09 __________________________________________ The air was clear, and the demon was silent. So Faruhar began running. The town gave itself over to the tree line within seconds, and then she was running steadily through the forest, a smile on her face. She jogged on, one minute, five, fifteen.  Her legs propelled her forward of their own accord. Her mind only busy enough to keep her away from human settlement. The sky changed from gray to white to blue between the blurred branches. When darkness came, she closed her eyes, and she kept moving: instinct guiding every muscle. She dodged trees, and her other sen...

Going back to home of the last couple of years or so, I did a lot of talking and thinking about the meaning of life, and a little of other things important things like enjoying a night of whiskey coke and flirting. There was a steady and orderly rhythm to it, perhaps only in my mind... I saw all the people I really wanted to see and had just enough time to share and receive exactly what I needed to. And it all flowed together to a destination. I left quite refreshed. Chris and Jenn picked me up and made me laugh. Chris had just gotten a new job, and Jenn was a lot more relaxed than when I had seen her last semester. Somehow big tangles in my head became little laughs when I shared them, because this is a magical skill that good friends have. I started to feel at home… and for the first time since going back to Ithaca and being primarily called by my old name, I felt more like myself. I met with an old professor, who was another Cornell grad student back in her day. To my surprise, she ...

I just got back from 2 weeks of not being in Ithaca... it was beautiful and refreshing. I got to see a lot of good friends that I wish I could take back with me, some of whom I hadn't seen in 4 years. I did a lot of deep thinking and close talking, and a bit of drinking and spending. And I engaged in a timeless ritual embraced by women of all creeds, ethnicities and values... to show I've changed (and gotten over a man): I've chopped off my hair and gotten a lot of new clothes. It feels good. There's much in my head to transcribe of the particular thoughts and conversations I've had in the last 2 weeks... a lot I really want and need to write out. For now, here's a poem I wrote a couple days in when I was making up for lost REM sleep: A Recurring Dream: I don't know where were going but you're driving me home I know all these roads all too many and you're taking too long for I feel the ending and I missed the start but you take the long way and I kno...

NOTE/DISCLAIMER - I PURGED THIS POST OF MORE PERSONAL DETAILS. THIS IS JUST THE END. It's weird how the people who make you the happiest are often the same ones who make you the saddest. I still feel sad but not conflicted, I feel even more lonely and I imagine that will get worse. But I feel at peace, very much at peace. Some of you have been telling me to do this for a while... My friend Jesse told me: “You know this is kinda cheesy Orri, but when I get said I imagine myself on a boat where all my sadness and misery is on an island behind me. And I keep putting myself there, in that boat, as it slowly becomes smaller and smaller on the Horizon” “But where are you going when you move away from it?” I asked. I've always been uncomfortable not having a path towards a future goal, even to the expense of the present. “I don't know. We never know. But that's what makes life so interesting”

For most of my life, when I was presented with anything fearful or unpleasant, I would usually just stare it down. Things only really were hurtful or negative on the first pass, but not so much on the second thought, the third remembrance... and after a while, it would be nothing at all. I hadn't read Dune at that point, but I recognized one of the mantras in it later in life when I did read it. “I will let the fear path through me, and in the end only I will remain...” Yes. All fears were worth facing then, and I felt confident in taking them down. At some point in my adult life this strategy began to fail me. About a year ago, I found fears that could not be faced down. I found problems that upon analysis, bore no resolution.... philosophically, emotionally... I was changing. I always considered myself, and have been considered strong to fault. I became weak in a lot of ways upon finding these limits. I became restless... distractable, emotional... at odds in general. For the fir...

There's a story by Ursula Leguin called "The Ones who walk away from Olemas": http://www.miafarrow.org/omelas.html The story outlines her thoughts based on this study by William James: Or if the hypothesis were offered us of a world in which Messer's. Fourier's and Bellamy's and Morris's utopias should all be outdone, and millions kept permanently happy on the one simple condition that a certain lost soul on the far‑off edge of things should lead a life of lonely torture, what except a specifical and independent sort of emotion can it be which would make us immediately feel, even though an impulse arose within us to clutch at the happiness so offered, how hideous a thing would be its enjoyment when deliberately accepted as the fruit of such a bargain? I've reread this story a couple of times lately. I read it first in high school.... and it really hit home with me. It described a Utopian society that somehow maintains it's perfection through the su...

Busy as hell here, thus not posting. And when I do post, I should be working... but often enough I can't get into gear. So, what's new: Done with the NSF grant, and I want to be my advisor when I grow up. He was editing with me until 15 minutes before the grant deadline because I'm a procrastinating bitch. Prelims and essays for profs which are smarter than God: I can really imagine one prof explaining to God why he doesn't exist and getting him to back down. Research hasn't been happening much, not so much due to me but due to equipment malfunctioning. Etc - I've been too busy to notice I don't have much of a social life or an artistic venue. Or maybe I just stopped caring. I've looked into dating people, but thus far... no one really gets my attention, when I do have time to talk to them. A lot of people at Cornell are very career focused... the first year of grad school especially demands I be a bit selfish with my time. Most people are as busy as I a...