The Scrivener's Jest

I summoned the courage, asked her out, A first time for everything She just smiled, shook her head And said she was thinking of becoming a nun. Now, I lay on my back in the middle of field, Watching the drifting stars, The sound of the party still close by. Trying, so hard, to disappear.

Years later, I would hold her in my arms, She was no nun, But, even then, it was just a moment, A drifting of two souls in space, Occasionally passing, never connecting.

It is okay to be finite. Acknowledge your limits. Set your space. There is no medal For mourning, No treasure for fear, There is only this world, Flawed and broken, Beautiful and strange, Filled with sorrow, Infinite in its hope. There is only you, Only me, We do not live forever, Our time, so precious. Savor it. Do not bow to those Who demand attention. Our days worth too much To waste on fools and fears We cannot master Nor control.

I used to plan in decades, Now I plan in minutes, Each moment splinters A thousand futures, Each darker than the last. I watch them march Madmen and fools, Progenitors of a fallen species, Headed for the cliff, Over the edge Into nothing. Justice or retribution, I know not which. And here we sit, At the end of an age, Sharing stories of a brighter time Facing a “thousand-year night.”

Note: Another post from the vss365 prompt that went long. I included the final line from Alas, Babylon in the piece because it fit so well.

It gets harder Worn and damaged, Pays the price, Of past mistakes, In blood and tears, I would tell you not to, But without it, There is nothing Left between us.

I struggle with social media. I don't think it is evil by default. I never have. If you count Usenet and Bulletin Board Systems (and I do), then I have been on social media longer than many modern influencers have been alive (see note below).

Social media, on its own, can be great. Individuals connecting and sharing is awesome. I want more of it, not less. Isn't that what we are doing here?

Corporations are awful. The modern system of corporate capitalism is nightmarish. Because of that, social media platforms swallowed by the corporate machine are often just as awful and nightmarish.

But this isn't a defense of social media, this is a discussion on why I suck at it.

I spend most of my social media time on Bluesky (@scrivenersjest.com). You can boo and hiss, if you want, but the moderation tools are excellent. I find the writing and art communities there much more active, vibrant, and inviting. That is what I am looking for when I look for social media. Maybe someday, I will start my account on Writing.Exchange. I like what Matt is doing with the platform, and I don't mind niche communities. They need to be a community, though, not random people posting into the void.

I suppose that is the issue. I struggle with interaction on social media. I am happy to post a comment or respond to a prompt (this is why my Bluesky account is mostly a vss365 response account), but I've never been good at interactions. I can like a post or repost it, but responding always feels artificial. I feel like I am invading someone's space to start a conversation they probably don't want to have. Sure, they said something, but that doesn't mean they said it to me. It feel like I am in a bar pushing my way into an overheard conversation which I would never do.

So instead, I sit there, read a few cool posts, post my silly little poems, and never really connect with anyone. I know this is not a particularly unique problem. I think a lot of us are doing that. I just wish there was a better way to connect. There are some really cool people out there. I see them and read them, but they are lost, drifting in that void behind the screen. I sometimes wish they weren't.

Note: Yes, I did just have a birthday and yes, that does makes me feel even older! )

I like place holders in time. I like having moments set aside for reflection. While too much introspection can be stultifying, too little is far worse. It is not always easy, especially in troubled times, but that is exactly when you need to pause, take time, evaluate, and decide if the path you are on is the path on which you should remain.

This is a normal day. There is nothing special about it to most, but to me it is a marker of another year. I consider a June birthday lucky because it is a midpoint in the year. I can look forward and back on this year and on this life and consider it all.

I am getting older. A part of me fears that. I hear a voice in my head that tells me it is too late. I have had my chances and all that is left is a slow decline into nothingness. That may be.

But there is another voice, far louder, which says, “Fuck that! It is not too late until I am dead, and then I don't really care.” I don't live my life according to the rules of those around me. I tried it, once. Did the whole “American Dream” in my 20s. I was absolutely miserable.

Too late? By what metric? Oh no! I will never be rich and famous. That's okay, I've seen and known too many of the rich and famous. Their lives are awful. I'll take my obscurity thank you very much, and while I would never mind a bit more money, I'm not willing to sacrifice who I am and what I believe in to get it. I tried that too for awhile. There is nothing worse than earning money for some asshole shareholder while doing a job that, at best, means nothing and, at worst, actively makes the world worse.

I know I am lucky that I can make that choice; since I can, why would I not? Sure, I'll never be rich, but I can still look at myself in the mirror and wake up feeling good about who I am. That is worth a lot more in my book.

Too late? It's never to late to learn and to grow. It's never too late to take on a new challenge or to embrace a new path. Cowards stand still and blame the world as it flies by. I may fail a thousand times, but at least I keep moving. When that end does come, and my final place holder is checked, it does not matter where I ended. All that really matters is the path I took to get there.

Beware new magics That offer joy and treasure For the taking. It's as easy as can be (Just don't ask questions). The only cost A little sliver of self. You can buy and buy 'Til there is nothing left.

Another excess vss365 post. I may revise this, later. If I do, I will link the update.

All the pomp and circumstance, All the trappings of decorum, become the trap, The hook and chain that wraps us tight, The noose on the stage. We dance among madmen, Spin stories of love and hope Against poisoned souls, Bent beneath the sole of a petty god More monster than savior, But they scream for him all the same, Draw blood for him all the same. And in this space we stand, Raised voices and hands, Bound together, not by chains, But by hope and care and possibility. These stories we spin, Rising like wildfire, burning away the darkness, An awakening and rebuilding, A reclamation of what should be.

I think I am going to add more game content here, as this site seems to be a better place for it. I love storytelling and storytelling games. They are a major part of my creative work which makes them a solid fit for this site. Plus, it is my site and my rules, so there we are.

I am honestly a bit excited. I have been the game master for most of the games I have played in the past decade. For the first time in a long time, I am actually just playing a character which is deeply refreshing. I love designing worlds and thinking about how things move on a large-scale, but there is something fun about just focusing in on a single character.

The system we're using is Outgunned by Two Little Mice. We specifically using the Neon Noir adaptation in their Action Flicks, expansion. Outgunned is a fast and easy-to-learn system focused on narrative play with rule-set that is reminiscent of Powered by the Apocalypse but different enough to be unique. It is really well adapted to story-based play with a very cinematic feel.

We're adapting Cyberpunk for this, the game master is modifying an adventure from the Edgerunner's Mission Kit, and so far the game has been fun. I am playing a netrunner. He's a child born into corporate wealth, but he watched it destroy his family. He now lives in the Sprawl, gathering and selling information to the highest bidder. He can be cynical, but there is a heart-of-gold in there somewhere.

So no, I am not pressing the boundaries of the genre. He is very much a typical character written for this style of game. Sometimes, that isn't a bad thing. The more time spent obsessing over derivative backstory, the less time is spent on actually evolving the character in-game. That is the point after-all.

I am always leery when someone gives me a book with their character's backstory, because it makes me think they have an arc in mind. The story may not go that way, though. The best stories for me, in games and in life, come when we push away from the anticipated arc into something entirely new and different. At the very least, it leads to some interesting new experiences.

I have never been a wholesome writer. I used to see that as a challenge in my writing. I just wrote a fairly wholesome piece about a old man, and honestly it feels dead flat and false to me. I don't expect it to do well. I can write about quotidian things. There is something deeply fascinating and somewhat surreal about a narrow focus on the odd rituals that we do daily. I am always better when I am writing in darker veins or focusing on the pleasures and pains of a life lived. I can write a thousand words in a moment on love and loss and all the chaos that comes with it. Ask me to write a pleasant story or some slice-of-life, and I am pretty much out unless I can really twist it in some way.

I used to think this was just a part of my writing, but I think it is just a part of me. This isn't special. I think a lot of us are far less wholesome than we sometimes appear. I feel it in my writing, though. There is a difference between fiction and falsity. Fiction is the story, Falsity is the voice. I can craft a work, make it poem or prose, and bend it to fit into genre, form, or constraint. It may not be good, but it is fun. Crafting works that are not from my voice often feels like forgery. My creations, in some respect, but made to fit someone else.

This isn't to say that there isn't value in the exercise. The piece I wrote today was good practice. We need to push our comfort zones and press our voice. These aren't publications, they are friendly pieces shared as experiments. Some will hit, others won't. That is the point. For me, it was an interesting realization,a and a gentle reminder that I need to be true to that voice even when it makes others uncomfortable.

That perhaps, is the more direct lesson for me, here. One of the reasons I shy away from submissions is vulnerability. My voice exposed for judgment and dismissal. I have fielded enough rejections that you think it would be old hat by now. It never is.