Bellpoint

This blog was reset a few times and it's mostly no great loss, but I miss the digital scrapbook pages I made last year. I think it started as a way to memorize words in Thai, or an attempt to indulge in making roleplaying props without actually roleplaying, or possibly to make use of AI images that deeply moved me but, being AI, are morally wrong. I can't remember; but it developed into being a sort of journaling-with-images thing. And that blog is gone, and there weren't too many of them, so I'm just going to re-post them here.  - When I was a kid I dreamt of knights and fairies and green meadows and rain, which stood to reason, what with being a D&D player who lived in the desert in a town where most teens cared mostly for surfing. Then I grew up and realized that rain was cold, that green meadows were also cold, that sunshine on said meadows didn't necessarily mean it's warm, and that I hate the cold. And somewhen in my 30s I realized what I now fantasize

  In Hebrew there's a saying: there's comfort in the fact that everyone 's suffering along with you. I always thought that wasn't true, but after this year I think I understand it better. It's not that another's pain brings joy or comfort, it's that it gives a different perspective. My year was what it was; but a friend had seven surgeries and nearly died, others are undergoing divorces or the scariest thing of all, an ill child. And, of course, the war with all its horrors.  And that changed the way I felt about my year. Not about the past two months, but all the other dramatic events my life underwent suddenly feel - and this sounds absurd - lucky. I'm so lucky. And I cherish it, and I'm grateful for it, and I wish I could pass it on, especially to the people who gave me that new perspective. There's a small apartment, my own little tent in the proverbial desert. There's a chair probably designed by Torquemada, a white IKEA desk and a very

  My tropical dream life is gone, which has enough upsides (decent, free medical treatment, for one) to make this not feel like a tragedy, but rather a change I can even enjoy. I know the mentality in this country; my friends are here; I can have a real-life tabletop party to run Call of Cthulhu to if I feel like it (and I might, which is great, as I haven't felt like GMing in years). Writing this makes me feel better. This past month, though, has been not good. In a year that was one of the worst in my life even before the war, this past month was close to the worse of the past 14 months; I lived at my dad's, and it was unhealthy. The thing is - I know  he means well. I know he loves me to bits. I know he'll give me any money I need and more, except the right to say 'no'. And, later, except the ability to say 'no', or speak without being scared. I didn't see it when I was a teen; I did, now. I'm 47. I took a temporary place in the next big city, 250