05 October, 2016

Exploiting a World of Warcraft Legion World Quest for Gold (Primal Payback)



This was a very fun thing to stumble upon in my journey though Legion.

Enjoy this simple world quest exploit before it is fixed. :D

06 September, 2016

I Feel Like Writing

This past month has been so weird. Ups and downs, sidesteps and diving for goals. Yet so little feels "right."

I'm not sure if "right" is the proper way to describe my lacking of feelings. In all honesty, I'm not sure any of this will make sense.

Recently I've felt passion, excitement, hope, sadness, fear, love, joy, happiness, but none of it feels right. It all feels like I'm sitting passenger on a ride I've got no real participation in. I'm a lifeform living on the memories and concepts of who I'm supposed to be.

Every statement even feels weird coming out. I have a vision of me, of my future, of my life. Yet nothing feels like I'm personally participating in getting there. It's pretty damn weird.

I do feel good though today in regards to two things. Even though I couldn't stay up in-between actions, and slept most of the day. I was still able to feel successful. I fed myself. Twice. Cereal for breakfast, and then two simple sliced turkey wraps for lunch. Now when I say I slept, I had breakfast, fell asleep. I woke up, did a small sink of dishes, pooped, texted Britt, made lunch, and fell asleep again. Then, I woke up, finished up the dishes with another small sink load, and brushed my teeth and showered. Now, I feel drained. It feels so pathetic to feel drained when the day is sliced up so much, but my excitement of being able to help myself today is nice. If only I didn't feel so beat though.

Anyways, I'm kind of rambling, and I dont was to just type for the sake of typing, so I will end this shortly.

It feels weird to feel like you are a passenger in your own body. It feels weird when you stumble drunkenly around, without having even a thimble of alcohol. It feels weird to be loved unconditionally, despite all of the upset I feel I cause.

I guess, all in all, life is just weird.

02 September, 2016

Funny Moments Friday: Episode 8



It's been quite a while since I've published some real, honest to goodness, homegrown, edited content. Enjoy the 8th installment of Funny Moments Fridays!

18 August, 2016

Evening thoughts...

Evening thoughts, so bleak and cold, as I lie here, growing old. My desires and dreams of life in the light, acquainted with pain of a devilish fright.

The smile upon my face fades, and my mind shuts down, my brain enters a haze. Are we ready to disconnect? Or must we stay ready and waiting to project? Injecting our consciousness into the world around, a hope for a brighter future must stay abound.

08 August, 2016

The Down Hill Fall

Here I sit, upon my couch, in my office, surrounded by progress. The flashing lights of an internet connection lighting the corners of the room dimly, the sound of a television playing in the distance.

This isn't where I expected to be, for better or for worse. My life if weird, strange, confusing. Slowly unwinding is my sanity as I find solace in the loosening of material bonds with those around me.

I am finding a warm embrace from an entity that is ever changing. An amalgamation of my life experiences. I flock to these emotions of security, of avoidance, as I fear what the world may come to if I open myself to the realities that lay dormant beside me.

So, here I sit. Surrounded by darkness. Unsure as to what, or where, chages need to begin. Two years ago, I saw a vision of me I longed to be. Now what? The vision is gone, and here I sit paranoid, hoping my seemingly fractured world doesn't fall apart like a rotting tree in the wind.

Fear is what is controlling me as of late. This fear is destroying me. Eating me from the inside out, resulting in an implosion from the outside in, as I try and subconsciously push everyone I love away, to save them from myself when I finally break.

Some days, life is just too much for me to handle alone. I'm just so lucky I have a support system, because without them, without you, I am just not sure what I would be able, or willing, to do.

Let's see if we can control this fall, and ride these waves of fear to safety, leaving me more experienced than ever.

With love,
--RE

17 July, 2016

Family Assistance

Sometimes it is nice to take a day away from the typical environment, despite how hot, or messy, it might be.

Saturday came and went, and with it, a day of helping my father-in-law sort bottles and cans. The four of us, in the sun, counting and counting and counting.

On paper, it sounds like a terrible chore. However, in practice, it was a wonderful day of love, laughs, and support.

Brittney and I wanted an excuse to be out and about, so it was nice to have a reason, especially one that made us feel productive.

As the afternoon wound down into the evening, her father treated us all to a wonderful sit down dinner. I was so glad to eat, but like I told them, I didn't need anything fancy, nor anything at all, though, even a double cheeser and a frosty would have hit the spot. Regardless though, damn it was yummy.

I am thankful for the time I get to spend with loved ones, and I hope that those around me feel similarly about me. I always have that fear though, I just hope I'm always going to be good enough...

So, this post is kinda weird. I'm extremely tired, and writing isn't making it any easier to stay awake...

I am sad though. Social security is breaking me, and as a result, we may lose our house if I can't find a way to make some sort of money. I receive roughly $930 per month, and as of August, it will all be done.

These four years of feeling dead in the water has not been a paid vacation, but it sure has helped me learn a lot. Regardless of the outcome, I know more about myself than ever before, and I have a stronger support system than I ever knew existed.

Now if only I can find a way to make enough money, doing what I love, to survive and thrive. So... if you are ever board, you can come see me on YouTube. :p

Okay, time for sleep. Goodnight.

--RE

14 July, 2016

Mutual Trust

Trust. A decision to open yourself to the will of others. So wise are those who can manage trusting in those who are trustworthy, while seeing through the facades of those who are not.

I'm not a very trusting person by default. I've spent years trying to convince myself that it is okay to speak aloud in matters that deal with my emotions. This is because, to me, my emotions are the most sacred aspect of my human form. Letting others in to see me for who I am leaves me open to the sorts of manipulation that I might not be able to fend off. So thus, trust is shyd away from.

It wasn't always this way. Sometime before my teens, I was so open to the world that I new. I trusted authority figures, I felt comfortable talking, all be it loudly, about my problems and desires.

However, at some point, everything changed. I started seeing people as enemies, cloaked figures waiting for their chance to strike. People who created a world of pain in theur wake, for the sake of a sick joke. Slowly, I lost hope. Slowly, I became what I feared.

It wasn't until I broke free of my mental shackles sometime after turning 21 that I realised I had become someone I was not comfortable with. Words escaped me that I didn't know I could throw around so freely. Predispositions to situations were created in response to concepts that existed entirely in my head. I, for all intents and purposes, was racist.

Not out of some conscious effort of hating a group of people because of their nationality, but because I hated myself, my existence, my history. I hated so much of what I stood for, I found reasons to hate others as well. I created broad generalizations of groups to accommodate a need to redirect my self disgust.

Yet, what did it get me? Looking back, I realise that influences really played a role in how I dealt with my distaste for life. These influences set the stage for how I managed to maintain my existence, my survival of self, for hatred was all I knew.

These times, they saddened me. I know now, and even knew then, that broad generalizations were bullshit, however the gut response to jump to those conclusions persisted.

Yet now, here I am, improved on this front, with open arms to all of my co-inhibitors of earth, and beyond. I long to share my love and compassion with those whom I find agreements with, and even those in which I don't, or cant, see eye to eye.

But there lies a problem inside of me. I don't know how to deal with those unwilling to change, unwilling to share a mutual respect, unacceptably that the world isn't what their perceptions have created. These people I loathe. I push them away like they are infected with a virus that I may contract. Why? Because to me, i fear tha t by allowing myself to swing too closely to those perceptions and actions, I leave myself open for reverting back to what I used to be.

Still, sometimes it is easier, not to mention instinctive, to have words, feeling, and emotions bubble to the surface. However tough it may be though, I know that fighting these feelings, and allowing myself to be vulnerable to those who deserve my love, is more important than any other options available.

My dream is to surround myself with people I trust, and people who trust me. Yet, I know that for this cycle to start, I need to not only be honest with myself, but be honest with those around me as well.

... yet I've recanted the entire paragraph that this was supposed to be... maybe one day... maybe one day.

-RE

13 July, 2016

Losing Hope, Trying to Smile

I'm finding my mind drifting. Slowly going a stray, lost in this damnation, our eternal fray.

The prospect of being forced to work is growing. I can feel the gripping hands of economic requirements strangling me, getting tighter and tighter, faster and faster.

I've learned so much in these past four years, and I am thankful for the support I've received,  but I can't help feeling like I'm going straight out of the boat, and into the ocean.

My current goal is to keep writing, one day, creating an article for the website Cracked, or something, explaining just what it has felt like to go through these emotional times.

I think one of the worst feelings for me has to be the negativity people have toward those receiving benefits from state and federal sources. The constant judgement is disgusting. It is like poor people are not allowed to have nice things.

For instance, I have a smart phone because I have wonderful friends who allowed me to have their old one for free. I receive wonderful haircuts, because one of my best friends is trained in cosmetology. I imagine that if nails were a thing he was into doing, and I was into receiving, he would dedicate the time and resources to creating me for who I wanted to be. Yet I would be judged for looking "done up."

One of the other things that brings me to a boiling point is the idea that people on disability and welfare want to be there. Really, do you think a person would choose to live below the poverty threshold? Eternally stuck in a balancing act of surviving and expenses. I know I don't enjoy that aspect.

The compassion for people, our brothers and sisters, our friends and loved ones, our co-citizens of this fine nation is disappearing. In politics we see entire platforms running on the ideas of cutting programs that support the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, all in the name of greed. We, as a nation, have learned the concept that it is okay to disregard others,  so long as it is in the name of money. Greed, lust, jealousy. These are what entire platforms are running on, and it is sickening.

Yet,  these problems aren't just localized here to the United Stated of America. It is a global crisis, a global provider for hatred and segregation. Furthering the creation of invisible lines in the sand, as if between two rival siblings during a squabble. However, these siblings resort to violence instead of words, and threats instead of compromise, making for a gruesome cycle of hatred and pain.

I'm tired of living like this. In the past I've thought about running away, trying to become a citizen in a different nation, but I don't want to run. If our great leaders ran from the problems of an unstable nation, we would be in a very different reality than almost any of us could imagine.

I don't want to be known for running. I want to be know for standing, quietly, contentedly, for the things I know are right, not only for myself, but for the greater good around me. I am tired of expressing words that mean little, in the name of filling the void. My hopes is to talk less, by speaking in a more focused light. Then, when words aren't required, let the world travel on, and my hand/mind do the rest to express my thoughts and emotions into the world.

We all long for change, however, is the change you long for a net positive for society, or just yourself and/or your small social click alone? If the latter is the case, it may be time to focus on who you are as a person, and reflect on the events that have brought you here today.

I don't expect you to change over night, no. However with a conscious effort,  more and more quarks will become apparent, leading you to a way f o create a healthy you for yourself, and those around you.

--RE

11 July, 2016

Socialization and the Broken Mind

It seems that the focus of human life is socializing. Interacting with others in the name of a common goal. Finding solace in the arms of your friends and family.  Yet,  despite socializing being such an integral part of human behavior and development,  I feel so out of the loop.

I can talk with people if we have a shared interest, or a mutual connection, however, nurturing that relationship is lost on me. It seems that I would rather let my relationships deteriorate than be the type of person to always make the first move.  Our much off any move at all that is.

I've been so tired, so hopeless,  so... broken. It is hard for me to want to curse others with my presence. Yes,  I feel like a curse on the world. A leech, a zit, an over flowing garbage can of human mass.  Always depressed, able to recognize my depression and various problems, yet unable to pull through, as if I were behind an invisible fence,  locking me in to the desolate pasture that is my life.

Melodramatic. I've heard others use that term while describing others in my similar situation, yet never about myself directly.  I wonder if what others think of me gets masked for the sake of their conscious, not wanting to directly offend me for fear of upsetting me. Stupid mind. Stupid stupid stupid.

So, on Saturday,  I sliced a bit of my thumb on a mandolin, while prepping carrots for Mac Salad... It should heal nicely. I've gotten lucky these past two events.  First the Hydrofluoric Acid,  now the accidental slicing.  I hope there won't be another accident soon.

I'm tired of hiding. Mental health needs to be accepted and talked about. I am somewhere beyond sad,  with bouts of such intense excitement,  that the world and it's problems seem so distant.  Yet,  I come down so fucking hard. My mood can go from these two extremes in a matter of moments sometimes,  depending on my external stimuli. Other times it is a slew change,  like watching a dark cloud come up the horizon.

Either way,  these emotions,  they hurt, they break my will to live, they take away my opportunity for progress.  Yet, not many people understand, or see, just how much I suffer.  Mainly because I chose to fake it around those I don't trust.  Up to and including my Psychiatrist. Why? Because showing weakness to those you don't trust is like turning your back on a wild animal.  I feel like I can't afford to risk my emotions opening up to someone like that. Especially not verbally.

So thus I write...

--RE

09 July, 2016

Ask RE Anything - Episode #4: Fears




» Greetings Minions of Internet Land! «

»» Ask RobustEnigma Anything ««

»»» Episode #4: Fears «««



Finally, after over a year long wait, it's here!

I'm glad I waited to make it just right. :D

The first few attempts were just not up to par.



As always, if you have any questions for next time, leave them in the comments below! :D



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» Season: 02

» » Episode: 03

This Cold Life

Isn't it a shame how we always down less time doing what we want to do, and more time playing pickup, catchup, or trying to get to where we long to be?

It's official, I am journeying through an existential crisis, and I'm okay with it. Since May or so, my thoughts have been pretty negative, questioning my past, present, and future. Yet, why? What is the point of devoting so much energy to worrying about the pain I've experienced? Or exhausting myself over finding the perfect path into the sunset. Why? Why not just take that energy and focus it on making a true decision. A decision for good.

Well, I know for a fact my mental health has been questionable at best, leaving myself prone to negativity and suffering. Past that, I've done okay for the past few years in regards to prepping for a future I dream of. I have been learning, and changing, and growing. However at some point I lost the understanding that it is okay to play the day by ear, without punishing myself with shame and guilt for not having a dedicated course of action.

Ramble ramble ramble. I am tired. It is 00:38 and I am laying here on our couch, blankets and pillows equipped to create a makeshift bed. I'm not where I want to be, yet, but I know one day, the future is holding something grand for me. I just have to keep looking, keep sharing, and keep focusing on how I can make me a better version of me. Not just for myself, but for those around me as well.

Good night.

--RE

07 July, 2016

Catching Up

Trigger Warning:
This post contains talk of suicide and depression.

Today (yesterday since it's after midnight now) has been a very rough day. I've felt the world grind to a halt, or so it felt...

These past weeks, knowing that I may be losing everything I hold dear, have left me in a broken state of fear.

Rereading my letter from Social Security, I found that during my appeal process, I might not be able to continue receiving my paychecks, as I waited longer than 10 days to notify them of my intentions, despite the fact that later in the letter says I have 60 days to respond.

The language on my first read had me thinking that the 10 day cut off was to continue Medicare coverage alone, as opposed to Payments as well. So, now I sit, unsure as to what is happening,  hoping my previous lawyer can help guide me through this insane process.

I'm not going to lie, I've thought about suicide. I've though about how to clear myself from this existence, hell, I'm not going to lie, I even attempted recently, only backing out as the images of loved ones flashed before my darkening gaze. It is a terrifying experience. I am losing my mind over the fear of losing the life I've worked so hard to create with Brittney.

If I lose my benefits, we lose our home, our debt will fall behind and become delinquent again, except this time, there isn't much,  if any, safety net to fall back on. Last time my sanity broke and we lost it all, we had our mothers. We started at my mom's, then after I went inpatient for the second time, Brittney lived with her mother, and I stayed with mine. They were some trying times.

Now, four-ish years later, with my debt consolidation loan in place, new debt acquired,  and a better roof over our head, we're entering a repeat of what happened before. Neither of us are sure what will come of this appeal, and while we are trying to stay positive, my depressive mind is going south fast.

Britt and I talked extensively today about how I am feeling, and how I've been retaining too much emotional pain. Discussing in depth how scared we are and how lost we feel. It was hard for me to let myself cry in front of my wife, but once I cracked, my face was pouring fluid like a leaky bag of pancake batter.

All in all, I think the attempts are behind me, as I long to stay out of the hospital, however, the latter isn't off the table yet. I'd rather suck up my pride and check myself in for treatment, than say a final goodbye.

Here's the one problem I have though. I hate talking. My voice, my topics, my emotions, it all angers me out loud. I hate trying to explain how my mind jumps to thoughts of sadness and death. How my instinct is to pray I die, rather than find a viable solution to my problems. I don't know why the voice in my head treats me like it does, but articulating those emotions and events are seemingly impossible with words alone.

Yet all anyone ever wants to do is talk. They want to try and help me find a solution. Which, is all well and good, except the fact that looking someone in the eyes and admitting my failures fills me with so much shame that I end up worse than I was before. It is one of the main reasons I stopped visiting my Psychologist. Not to mention she was costing me anywhere from $40-$60 per month, on a $900 budget. It doesn't sound like a lot, but it is when living expenses kept us so strapped for so long.

So now, Brittney and I started finding a groove of comfort. One with myself thinking less morbidly, practicing hobbies and crafts on my own time to keep my mind busy, and even trying to help my mother with her problems on occasion. Britt, picking up more hours to help clear our debt faster, and supply us with a more comfortable living environment. Yet, here we are. Falling back down the spiral staircase out of Hell, tumbling faster and faster to the possibility of a desolate future that I'm not sure I'll be able to recover from.

I love you all, which is why I'm trying to be so honest, but if I disappear,  I am either in the hospital, or worse. Let's hope that neither of those outcomes happen, and that life can just retain the value we've created for ourselves since the start of this mental health journey some years ago.

Seriously though, please don't call the authorities after reading this. This isn't a plea for help. I'm not currently at risk this very moment. If I do become a risk to myself or others, I already have a stable plan of action to receive the help I would need to remain safe. The best thing for me now is loving support of a non-triggering nature.

Thank you for reading.
Goodnight my loves.

-RE

30 June, 2016

RE-Lights: Nuketown Trumpets



» Greetings Minions of Internet Land! «

»» RE-Lights Presents ««

»»» Nuketown Trumpets «««



I really enjoyed this match. :D

If my memory serves me right, I ended this round with 17 Kills and 3 Deaths, though I can't be quite positive, as my  PS4 didn't capture a shot of the scoreboard.



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» Season: 02

» » Episode: 02

29 June, 2016

Ouch

So yesterday I was at my mom's house, cutting the lawn as I occasionally do. The lawn came together really nice, so I figured maybe I could do a little extra work...

There has been a raspberry bush infestation growing for the past 4 or 5 years, and it has passed me off so much. I cut a little back, it doubles in height and width. Evil stuff.

Well, today I decided it was time to take some frustration out on the thorned bastards. I decided to go through my grandfather's shed and see if there was any weed killer, or something similar that would destroy those lanky bitches.

Sure enough I found the remains of a little weed killer, and an almost full bottle of wheel cleaner! Fuck yeah! This wheel cleaner should do the trick!

So, to be safe, I put on a chemical resistant give on my right hand, but not my left.  I assumed I would just keep my left hand out of the way. Well, that was my first mistake.

It turned out that the spray nozzel and trigger were wonky as shit, and after every spray, I had to replace the trigger into position. With this in practice, I went at it, being careful to stay upwind of the spray.

About half way through spraying, I noticed that my glove was soaked, and my left hoodie sleeve that contained my hidden hand was starting to become moist. This was a really bad sign.

I kept at it, eventually pulling my left arm out of the sleeve, as I found my sleeve to be even more soaked in fluid. My glove hand, doused in cleaner, spreading the liquid up my hoodied hand as well. It was at this moment I decided enough was enough. I had sprayed the entire perimeter of the bushes, and I was dobe fucking around. I took the bottle, opened the top, poured it on the nearest bush, and flung both the nozzel and bottle deep into the bushes. Well, not before reading the ingredients that is...

Turns out I was playing with a diluted Hydrofluoric Acid! If you are unsure as to what that is, go Google it. I'll wait.

After realizing myn mistake I juried to the barn, stripped off my glove, stripped my hoodie and pants off, and went inside where I had mom f I'll 'll a bowl with some Distilled White Vinegar in the hopes to neutralize any remaining acid. I soaked my hands for a bit, and washed well with cool water and mild soap.

To be safe, I ate eight Tums, and got a hold of my doctor. She advised me to buy some liquid antacids and soak my hands for a while to give my skin a bit of help in warding off any severe burns.

If you are wondering why the Tums abd the Antacids, it is because HF likes to, as my friend Richie puts it, play Pacman with Calcium inside of your body. Up toad including your bones, and lining of your heart. YAY!

So, tomorrow I follow up with my doctor to see what she has to say, but between you and me, I think I may have dodged a bullet. I may not be out of the woods for sure yet, but I know fore a fact this could have already gone much, much worse.

What a day.

- RE

25 June, 2016

Losing Focus

I'm losing focus on the fight. The willpower to succeed. It's been around a week now since I've put an entry into my food journal. I feel content with not knowing what I'm doing to myself, because I am tired of caring about myself. Tired of trying to care that is.

I know I sound like a broken record of depression and angst, but I don't know how else to articulate my feelings. I keep finding myself holding myself back out of the fear of failure, even though I know for a fact that by putting up those walls, I am creating a self fulfilling prophecy of failure.

How do people do it? How do you push through when it feels like the world is pulling you back? How can I overcome what feels like a broken system controlling a broken mind in a broken society ruled by a broken and uncaring group of puppeteers. More medicine? For how long? Until my insurance runs out in May? Then what? If my appeal fails, I can't receive Medicare like I was planning, so then that leaves finding a job with benefits that doesn't leave me broken, or suffering through without insurance, or worse yet, getting price gouged by having a family plan through my wife's insurer. Fuck.

I just want to create. I don't know what, or how, but I know that is my dream. I just want to be me....

And then I remembered this video from Rob Dyke's vlog channel Internet Pariah... From Bad to Worse and Back Again - Ep. 41

24 June, 2016

A Shade of Grey

It isn't often that you meet someone who leaves you infatuated with them. Wanting to know their story, dissect their existence, to further understand their minds. No, most people I'd prefer to dissect them in, and for, various other reasons. None of which are out of curiosity.

No, it isn't often that someone catches your mind and doesn't leave. I don't know if it is the irrational clinging of a scared man, or the longing to attach to something outside of my daily life.

If it sounds like I am romanticizing a simple meeting with someone new, you aren't totally wrong. I know I am probably over thinking something that should be a simple matter. Is it love? No. It is an emotion I can't place. The feeling that, even through minimal interaction, I know that there are still decent people in the world. I guess it is hope. I've been so detatched from hope, that I think I lost the ability to recognize what it means to hope for a brighter tomorrow.

Sure, I may never meet her again, I may never meet someone similar, but in this mood of moods I've been having, it is nice to know that, even if I lost it all, I may be able to find someone out there to talk to. Even if only for a moment.

Hopefully my sincerity comes off in a manner that doesn't sound crazy and/or creepy... Sometimes emotions are just so damned hard to explain. Trying to talk them out leaves me afraid of sounding different than I expect/plan/want to.

Either way, I think it's Bob Ross o'clock.

RE

21 June, 2016

Trying to Smile

As hard as it is, I'm trying to get and stay positive.

It has been quite hard though, as I've been asleep more than I've been away, and my hobbies and videos and content have essentially stopped.

Not only that, but my almost 200 day food journal streak was ended a few days ago when I just decided to give up on it.

I'm just tired I suppose. Sometimes I wonder if I turned life off, if it would turn back on in a better state; like rebooting a router and modem.

20 June, 2016

A Busy Weekend

Sorry for the delay on posting. Normally I like to keep a queue of posts scheduled to fill the gaps in my activity, however, that didn't happen this weekend.

This weekend I spent some time with my younger brother, my mother, my father, and a good few of my In-Laws. It was a good time. We now have air conditioners setup upstairs, and downstairs, so the entire apartment is much cooler than before. :D

I'm just glad that I was able to enjoy myself despite the stressors of having babies, and children around. It was hard at times, but once I had the little guy asleep on my lap, my motherly instinct kinda kicked in. Rocking, and bouncing. Whispering, and humming to keep the loud noises at bey. Made me feel like I was essential.

So, yeah... That's that. It was a weekend.

17 June, 2016

Aurora, Aura, and My Current State.

It's been a few days since I've pulled out from the fray, to bring my words to you.

I'm going to talk about a couple of things today that may, or may not be interesting to you, but to me, it means the world.

Recently, as you've seen, I've been going through a very rough patch, and it has left me feeling drained, scared, and in all reality, broken. Yet, as much as I break, and as hard as I try to not sleep my life away, there is this tugging sensation to try. To just get up and try. It is the smallest of voices in the back of my mind, begging me to keep going, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, repeat.

I think I need to listen to it. I hope the voice is what/who I think it is...

Back, a few years ago, I would write. I'd consider it a form of "channeling" which really just meant, I would type without thinking, with my eyes closed, relaxed, sitting in my office. It was during this time that I would get these tones of writing that I had no real explanation of, except for the fact that one tone was positive, and one was negative.

So during these times, I named the tones, to give them, and myself, a sort of reference. The positive tone, seemed almost like a motherly figure, to which I named Aurora. The other, and angry, childish figure, to which I named Aura. It felt like, at one point, that Aurora was Aura's mother. Though, really, I just knew it was all a creation of my fingers on keys in a dimly lit room.

Either way, I had my internal friends, until one day, I felt a snap. I could see these sorts of pictures on the inside of my eyelids, like a train car broke free, and away myself, and Aura fell. Since then, I've felt so stuck, alone, and cold. Occasionally, the Universe will speak to me, in rhymes, and rhythms, letting me know that all will be okay. Yet, other times, when I need it most, there's nothing there but silence. I miss her. She was my friend. She let me see things in ways that I could only imagine, and I think she's always been there, with me. Now though? I guess not...

Well, now you know more about me than I would have normally shared, but I suppose I've got to open up if I want to get anywhere on this spaceship earth alive.

I'll see you on the other side,
RE

14 June, 2016

Must Keep Fighting

Recently I've been trying to come through a serious bout of depression, if you couldn't tell. It's been akin to surviving in my own private hell.

I'm happy to report that I'm feeling a bit better, as ideas and concepts begin to become laid out. I have an uphill battle ahead of me, and while it is still painful to push on, at least I know what needs to be done.

I can't roll over and accept my fate to be sealed by a beurocratic organization. I have to stand up, support systems beside me, and show the world who it is that I am.

Even though today has been severely tough, and I've been sleeping more than being awake, I know I have to fucking try.

I have sixty days to appeal their decision, and I'll be damned if I'm going to give it all up out of fear of losing. I can't. Because if I don't try, I lose by default. This is one fight I can't afford to lose.

13 June, 2016

Questions Unending

The questions unending as she lay, trying to sleep Her mind and her eyes beginning to weep. Spinning and spinning, round and round, trying to scream, but out came no sound. She awaited the sun to rise again, so she could assemble her mask and count ten. For if she doesn't it might be their end. Her life has been going adequate at best. Her job never ending as the world was set to rest. The wicked amidst the flocking sheep, Their judging eyes gaze from atop of their keep. It has taken too long to put up a fight. The world feels as if it's ending in just a few nights. Yet no one knew, that woman was me. Damned and confined forever to be.

11 June, 2016

Goals

Get eating in order. Get thyroid in order. Get sleeping in order. Get a schedule in order. Rule the world.

10 June, 2016

Long Winds on a Gentle Breeze

All we ever wanted was somewhere to belong. Somewhere along the way we were lost and not found. The world keeps spinning ever faster down As the life of a man begins to come around. The light of the stars begins to fade The darkness of night begins to give way. Moving forward is what needs to be done, But which way is forward when you can't remember where you've come from? The memories and goals and hopes I held dear Are all lost to the sands of time. My mind shifted and got rid of all its grime. Except for the emotions that were attached, those are still with me, lingering from my past. Everything recently feels like a song, Rhyming, scheming, hoping that I'm wrong. That my life isn't ending in a way that won't be long. I want my story to be of great length, a marker in the history of man, for something that's Nobel and Peaceful I'd what I am. Yet a wise young woman once sang, only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone. This thought makes me feel even more alone. I hope that all this pain isn't real, that one day I can lift the mask off my face, and live what's real. Yet I'll never truly know what's beyond this point, until I take the leap, and break free from the joint. Maybe with enough drugs, and present, I can be me, the lost human that the world expects of me However, I hate the thought, I hate the feeling, that knowing any minute I might be reeling from fright, hoping to grasp on to someone else's flight. I just wish my wings alone were strong enough to swing, with the excitement, and passion, of a little kid. The world ahead of me, the darkness behind. Supposedly it's all just a fabrication of my mind. If I keep writing, maybe I'll kill enough time, to not have to worry about ending up at the unemployment line, because with ever letter I type, I gain one step forward in this rough life. The world thrives on attention and thieves. For the funds of contentment to flow from the top, one must earn the attention and admiration without the need to stop. Yet there they stand, the thieves waiting on land, for the ships to hit sand, where they can take a step forward with their demands. I. Want. To. Be. Me. Yet no one cares to actually see, that I need them as much, if not more, than they need me. I. Need. To. Break. Free. Someone, please... Save me. I ask of you, to help spread the word, to support my weirdness, despite how absurd. Without you, and your support, I'm left with nothing, but being broken in and hurt.

09 June, 2016

Thoughts of Goodbyes

It's been a while since I've felt this down. This numb. This... Longing. I wear such a strong mask that others see what I want them to see, and nothing else. Even those close to me miss how I feel on the inside. Why can't I just open up? Why can't they see this?

It's hard to admit that I'd rather die than live. It makes me feel weak, lost, and as if I'm grasping for attention. I've kept myself out of the hospitals out of sheer love and willpower, yet for what? A false sense of security? Only for my life to be flipped on it's head, and have everyone around me see me for what I let them see.

I know they think I'm playing a game. They think I want an easy life. A life of relaxing, giving myself into temptation. While they're not wrong, this isn't how I want life to go. I want to feel success, I want to feel safe, I want to feel love. Maybe I'm wrong for wanting to feel these feelings on my terms, out of fear of becoming another pawn, another plaything to someone else's game. Maybe it's greedy to want my life to be mine, to do with what I will, to have support for who I am, and what I crave to do.

I've lost hope. I've lost want. I've lost. I'm lost.

I'll be damned if it's blamed on my own lack of trying though.

The urge to vomit is real. My stomach, flipping ever faster. My body must think that this pain can be purged like a poison, like the toxins that it is. But it can't. All it would do is leave me with a can full of mess, and a mouth full of fire.

I feel so empty that it hurts. Like my torso has been replaced by a black hole, where the only thing left is the spaghettified remains of what used to be me.

I feel a chill brush gently over my shoulders, filling the room with crisp air. The skies darken, as if God himself were crying along with me. Yet, I know it's nothing more than coincidence. Nothing more than a long story that I wish could come to an abrup

08 June, 2016

Small Thoughts on Tiny Friends

The other day, I wrote about a spider bro who had stumbled into our home, only to get thoroughly deaded by a crazed man wielding a napkin. (Making Tiny Friends... Then Killing Them.)

It's been a few days, and I've had time to reflect upon my actions, and the request of Brittney to squish the ever loving snot out of that little arachnid, however, I can't help but feel... Odd.

My mind keeps imagining me, happy, relaxed, waiting to catch a bite to eat, when the universe as I know it begins to spiral inward to the ever growing blackness that is, death by giant. It is something I can't really comprehend. I can only equate it to getting an airplane, or a helicopter dropped on my head, which, even in those terms, is hard to consider. Not to mention, it spooks the hell out of me.

Regardless to say, I don't plan on dropping the hammer on any helpless critters anytime soon, and hopefully, I won't have to even decline the proposition. It's just not something that I'd care to do.

07 June, 2016

Socializing for Success

I'm finding myself having trouble with the world, as the internet and physical connections are blurred.

I dream of a day when my creation fly, spreading so deep, and soaring so high. 

I wear my heart, and my story on my sleeve, as my walls break away, I'm letting the world see.

I am excited to hear what everyone thinks, but so terrified am I, that it almost makes me feel grave.

I've recently released another time lapse, showing off my work. 

I think it was a beautiful project that almost got scrapped.

I took the trimmings of a live stream almost forgotten, and created something edible, consumable, art in its own right.

It's times like these that I feel like a butcher.

Directing and slicing, until I'm sore, and then with what's left, I'm off to make something more.

My videos are like sausages I suppose.

I am a digital sausage maker. 

What say you?

06 June, 2016

All Junkrat All The Time!

Greetings Minions of Internet Land!
This is what happens when Zutara and I carry influence over a group of goobers. How did this even work?!

Junkrat for President?
New main?

You Decide!

» Zutara on YouTube: https://goo.gl/QEF3TG


05 June, 2016

Making Tiny Friends... Then Killing Them.

One evening, while returning home, my dearest wife Brittney spotted a spider upon our wall. I was coming inside behind her, looking around. I glanced right passed it a few times before before my eyes said "The spider, it's found!"

The little thing was the size of a nickel, so lovely and sweet, if you're into arachnids that is.

Either way, it's gone now. Violence ensued, as the objects required for a catch and release were beyond our grasp. So squish went it's body until I felt it's final "pop" at last.

Creating an Overwatch Themed Thumbnail [Time-lapse]

Greetings Minions of Internet Land!



Here's a new Time-lapse of an Overwatch themed thumbnail that I can use for my future Live Streams!

I am quite happy with the way everything turned out, and I hope you are too. :)

It was refreshing to get a little goofy at the end. Maybe one of you awesome minions will take it a step further and run with the goofiness. ;)


03 June, 2016

Reflecting on Some Grilled Zweigles

The attachment is a photo of me a few weeks ago, grilling up some Zweigles Pop-Open Red Hots. It felt so good to grill again.

As for my previous update, I am still terrified. Yet, I'm trying to stay as positive as possible, and see it as some sort of hurdles that I need to take on one jump at a time.

First things first, I am going to work on throwing myself into the aether so to speak. Giving into my desires of creating and sharing a life worth living.

Brittney and I will be working on reducing expenses, limiting food intake, and finding a part time job if required.

The problem is, I know my limits, and even though the government thinks I am fine, I know what i can't do. I feel the strain well up inside of me when I think about the possible jobs I can do. I suffer from severe anxiety when it comes to cash handling, using phones, dealing with the public, and even being a reliable employee for a company that won't appreciate me as a person.

I'm scared, but for the time being, I need to keep focused, and try to make the most of my passions and hobbies that leave me feeling fulfilled.

With that, over to bed I go, hoping to slumber I am.<3


Updating: A Life Worth Living?

Here I sit, upon my couch, resting in its corner, thinking so loud. Lost in my madness, head filled with clouds.

The game is over, I can relax no longer. The Lord's of Bureaucracy have had their final say. I suppose it's alright though I never wanted to be their slut anyway.

So now here I am, lost and confused, my income is gone entirely too soon. Nothing will be the same, as thoughts of death dance too and fro, this is my life now, I figured you should know.

---

As of today, I am considered no longer disabled. The world of money is a terrible fright. I will receive three more checks, and that will be it. Unless I can create a digital presence that can replace my previous income, I will have to return to the workforce.

I finally found security, somewhat happiness, and they shit all over me. Now, I'm stuck, spiraling fast back to square one. My stomach is in knots, my mind is going to shit.

Trying to hold it together. I am going to keep writing. Every day. I am going to film, I am going to stream. I can't let them win and send me to my death. I can't. I want to... but I can't.

I love you all very much, and as always, I will see you all on the other side.

--RE

20 May, 2016

May 19th 2016 - Let's Talk





Greetings Minions!

Today I felt like chatting your ear off, so I setup the camera and went at it! :D

Hope you are all doing swell!

01 April, 2016

April 1st Clip Show Mashup!



"April 1st Clip Show Mashup!" - Fresh from the cutting room floor. :D

21 March, 2016

18 March, 2016

A Boy and His Cheesy Bread





Just you, me, and this here cheesy bread. Only two of us will make it out alive!!!