Lord Endymion's Tower

The endless quest for mare serenitatis...

Blank
endimiao
The year 2015 started without much fuss. I don't feel overambitious, like some years ago, nor particularly ominous although the world looks grim in some regards. But I do feel this year may mark the end of an era, of 10 years of rambling stupidity that afflicted both the human world and my own.


At a personal level this year crowns the fading of a burnout that took place at that fateful year of 2005, the culmination of my young adult fumbles that stretched from the third decade of my existence. If it were a visual novel, a tag saying "BAD END" would be clearly visible on that horizon...


But alas, either by works of spell-craft or time, it all faded away. No lingering romantic attachments, and living one day at a time, with the key word being LIVING is the present that fits my present role, whatever the future may bring.


Having the freedom to live at my own pace in these days - maybe I am somewhat fortunate. Like the ancients said: "The point is, not how long you live, but how nobly you live."

P.S. these days I'm going the AMD cheap APU route for most of my processing needs. Although my main computational devices tend to be my Qilive 40 and Qilive 70: both cheap and rather efficient little toys...


The worlds of me, continued...
endimiao
The Human World

The human world, or "Ningen" world, or materia mundi, is the world where I'm most likely to interact with other would-be human creatures, and it has somewhat negative undertones these days when I use it. It usually involves anything to do with family/job/state, and whatever material aspects life has. When I say "I'm back into the humans world", casually speaking, it usually means I'm about to plunge into an environment where chaos and some level of insanity is present.

The Otherworld

The world of nature, magick, the ancient historical world, mythology, ecology, spirituality and the likes find its place here. It's named as in the otherworlds populated by faeries, ghosts and other planes alike...
The general theme is "Romanticized Past".

The Netherworld

The digital, the web, tech, the futuristic, are all featured in this class of interests. Its called the netherworld as in NET, as in immaterial of sorts, and as a place easy to get lost into. The general theme is "Alternate Futures"

The Underworld

Sub-cultures like gaming, anime, gothik, survivalism and the likes are represented here.
Because for many these movements are considered somewhat "underground" I name this "The underworld". The general theme is "Colorful present"

The vast majority of my interests can thus be summed in this way.

Spiritless...
endimiao
These last few days I’ve been suffering from a condition that if I were to describe it it feels somewhat akin to “lack of spiritual energy”. Did a little mensa self-test playfully and got a score of about 16 in 18, so it’s not like I’m growing dull (no, I’m not going to join mensa). But I definitely felt some kind of drainage, a sort of hunger that I guess stems from too much contact with the “materia mundi” and its radiation known as “futility” and too little in the world of dreams and the otherworlds. I’ve been recovering slowly, thanks to some exposure to elemental-strong natural surroundings, along with help from flames, the sun and the moon but I do not feel really nourished yet. “Malnutrition of the soul” from an excessive materialistic world: who would have guessed eh? *amused*

Mea culpa really. I’ve been neglecting my sylvan side again quite a bit. There’s also few humans with whom to establish meaningful conversations. And there’s also a transition in my interests: I find myself growing away from the celtic mythos and more into the classical greek world each day, tinted with some Japanese and the ever-present avalonian influences… Other than some supranational deities such as Brigantia, Lugh and the likes, there are many matters that are simply fading from my mind. I feel closer, in such matters to Dion Fortune and Franz Bardon works in this present…

P.S. dream of the night: confrontation between two rival gangs, centered in the “cults area” in my closest town, one the archetypical “mob”, the other the archetypical Italian mafia in suits/hats , where the leader of the last group, an attractive young female, single-handedly devastates the mob, making them rise as red-eyed, feral undead *the also archetypical rp energy drain? :p*


Shield of thorns, as in "blackthorn"...
endimiao
One trick I learned with age, to shelter me against potentially overwhelming romantic feelings, besides my guarded stance, it's to use my "Sight" to find perceived faults in a likely candidate which in time end up numerous enough to be so heavy that the emotion becomes unsustainable.


That applies mostly to new persons since many people I knew changed in such depths that the even my old self wouldn't touch them with a 10-foot pole. Not that I am one to talk. Other than my nearly unchanged physical appearance, I'm burdened by three unhealthy pillars that should in normal circumstances be something that supports one's existence: family, company and state.


Speaking of which recently I noticed that, assuming full employability at standart portuguese wages, if I were to live more 30 years I'd make at most 200-300k in total.
Thats a prospect meager enough that serves as extra motivation to perusing  more creative endeavors as citizen of the world and not be limited by the more local, unpleasant circumstances. In fact, its the only way out of this succession of fates that I can see:
to keep educating myself, to create things, to explore new challenges.


And maybe, just maybe, someday I'll find someone that I can be fond of in spite of the numerous faults I can summon up as a shield to my soul.



Latest dream: I learned that used cars share the karma of their (former) owners...

A sense of haze...
endimiao

The last phase of my existence, as keeper of the gates to hell (a poetic way of describing my role in the emergency service of the hospital which for most of this past decade served as my regular workplace) was not devoid of harm to my personality.
The sense of being lost in the whole, of surviving each day made parts of me return to a half-state of slumber, somewhat akin to, although not as bad as when I was spiritually wounded. "All hope abandon ye who enter this place" indeed...

Only now I'm slowly starting to recover anima to delve into creative ventures (true constructive work). Writing gives me a sense of balance. Makes the haze solid. Dreaming inspires me. A long walk makes my soul wander. Reading, playing and watching movies/anime allows me to relax.

Except for some punctual cases, my present social life is unfulfilling as it gets. What surrounds me is too plain, too futile, too shallow, too permeated by vice, too short-sighted or simply too mired by ignorance.
In a way it feels I'm living in a desert, or in a dark remote forest where I'm as far apart from the dwellers as an elf is from the humans...
Nobody talks about true things of importance. Few, if any make any innovative works. A lack of honesty and an excess of greed tend to be the norm. I'm worn of humans.

Somewhere along my future, if my creative endeavours bear fruit, I'm going freelance.
That's my present aspiration, the second being finding some peaceful community with civilized (and cultured) people to dwell in. As for the third, prospects of a relationship, considering my present lifestyle and acquaintances, null is the keyword. No fucking way....

Latest memorable dream: clawed me fatally wounding a greenish lovecraftian aberration.


Blossom of Darkness
endimiao
Final moments of my latest dream....

The small dragon showered us with his levitation-inducing breath taking us on
a journey through deserts and canyons, up to our future dwelling place, a luxury
neighborhood somewhere within Evora. There we broke into an antique shop
seeking for answers for the curse that was plaguing the protagonist.

The owner of the shop, a middle-aged black priest of some sort of cult surprised us,
but after the initial wary moments he did provide us some information. The growing
dark force within me was known to the cult: an intergalactic entity hurled pieces of it's
tainted aura through the cosmos, that came to dwell within beings of power. Much like
parasitic entities, or "seeds of darkness" they were to grew until they were ripe to be
harvested in a cannibalistic spree by the spiritual alien....

A feira gastro-literária de Lisboa 2013
endimiao
Esta entrada no blog serve apenas para realçar o valor cómico da feira, tão "portuguesa" no seu espirito. Aconselho a quem tiver oportunidade que a visite, seja pelas oportunidades presentes, como pelas potenciais gargalhadas locais. Embora isto sirva um pouco como "spoiler"... não é para ser tomado muito a sério. Quanto aos amigos e conhecidos que me possa ter cruzado com, ainda estou "desaparecido" do meu mundo humano predecessor, apenas fui dar um passeio...

For all my potential english readers this thread is in portuguese because it is intended as a joke, easily understood by my peers..

A primeira impressão ao aproximar-me do local da feira do livro de Lisboa 2013 foi de um mar de humanidade. A riqueza de som e cheiros tinha paralelo com festivais de outro teor. A expressão que usei para descrever a cena foi "uma mini-akihabara portuguesa"... mas nessa altura ainda não tinha verdadeiramente entrado no recinto, e me apercebido do quanto me iria rir...

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À entrada do parque... ningen's com fartura. Respirar fundo, um, dois, mergulhar na multidão...

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Falando em farturas, divertiu-me imenso que à entrada estivesse uma banca de comes e bebes com a tão tipica fartura e outras coisas que tais..
Mesmo antes das pessoas irem manusear livros. Pequenos detalhes...

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E claro, sem contar com outras especialidades tipicas portuguesas como a bifana, o cachorro, a entremeada...

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Primeira secção, "zona chique" nº1.. (o que diferencia as zonas chiques das não chiques é a capacidade de ter dinheiro para contratar vigilantes e usar sensores... se bem que a eficácia seja debativel. No meio da confusão foi frequente ver situações em que se esqueceram de sacar pastilhas de livros comprados numa das "zonas chiques", que passaram sem activar os sensores de uma das zonas, activar um unico sensor numa das zonas do lado completamente oposto da feira e só as encontrar-mos já nos transportes...
(faz-me lembrar o coitado do Jimbo que foi sacrificado.. private joke :p)

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Junto à area de pagamento, é claro, está o alcool.. o pessoal assim com ums copitos, pode ser que abra um cadinho mais as mãos à bolsa e tal...

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Musica ambiente.. algo ali dava uma sensação qualquer de anos 80. Talvez os intervenientes. Não sei...

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A esta altura do campeonato comecei a suspeitar que a feira não era bem o que parecia.. Tipo dois em um, uma mistura de feira do livro com feira gastronómica..
Senão vejamos, queijadas de Sintra de um lado...

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..Sangria, Farturas do "Otário"...(interessante..), mais uma banca de cachorros...

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..um puto a dançar em cima de uma chavena de café...

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...vida de cão.. ou talvez tenha sua lógica, dada a proximidade da banca de cachorros. "Livestock"?

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Batata doce... só especialidades...

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Um altar sagrado no meio da relva, objecto de adoração dos meus conterrãneos...

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Gostei da carripana.. *divertido*.. começou a evocar imagems de um woodstock ali metido pelo (literalmente) meio da feira..

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Claro que não há festival gastronomico que se preze sem um bom vinho.. hmm, espera, não estava na feira do livro?

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Turismo local.. (à minha mente veio a lirica de uma musica.. "We're all stars now...".

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Apetite literário.. suponho.. E aquela multidão em frente será o quê?

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... ah, pois claro "Qu'ils mangent de la brioche..." ...

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Para quem tiver sede depois do bolo...

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Mais uma especialidade exótica...

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Humanidade...

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"Maid bar" à portuguesa? :p

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Comida.. Comidaaaaaa

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A melhor maneira de se orientarem na feira... (a europa-américa? é ali à direita dos vinhos)...
A maior duvida da feira... (pai para a filha: onde é que estará a banca de algodão doce)...

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E agora para terminar uma ode à mega-bandeira portuguesa..
"A diferença é comum, o orgulho nacional..."
ooops, não é esse o hino... :p


Random thoughts
endimiao
Mental exercises of the moment:
Can feral species (domestic creatures gone wild) fill an ecologic niche left vacant by a local extinct creature? Like wild goats replace grazers such as deer, wild pigs take the role of boars, and so on? Assuming there will be a top predator (even if its to be men, taking the role of the hunter) to prevent the population explosion, I wonder...


Being virtuous may mean worlds apart to the west and the east...
The Seven Virtues by Pope Gregory:
1-Faith 2-Hope 3-Charity 4-Fortitude 5-Justice 6-Prudence 7-Temperance

The Seven Bushido virtues:
1- Rectitude (Wisdom to do the right thing) 2-Valor 3-Benevolence 4-Respect 5-Honesty 6-Honor 7-Loyalty

There is a whole fun deal of ramifications if we consider the possibilities behind each creed...
It's also rather interesting how these last ones are quite similar to the most common so called "Celtic Virtues"

A cold moon
endimiao
The cold northern wind of these last nights brought me bad dreams. Not nightmares, mind you as I still retain the ability to control a dream or stop it altogether before it reaches that point. But it had an unhealthy feeling such as to conjure visions of a zombie apocalypse where people believed in the safety of cardboard barricades. People I had to leave in order to seek refuge in higher ground...

There is a lingering sense within that slowly, ever subtly the wolf is waning and the owl is ascending in relevance...

coldmoon


The laws of me...
endimiao

There are three spells, or fates bestowed on me, call it curses, geas or simply personal rules of my own..


There is the dedication, to nature and it’s beings, the wild way that strengthens my being and drive when close to the green. It keeps me young. It makes me yarn for vital (and magickal) sustenance and companionship. Let’s call it the elvenpath, or “sylvancraft” if you will. Many processed foods are allergens to me and I’m only interested in “mystical” women, be they fey or cursed.


There is the binding, mostly of memories and energies that brought forth my “Dark Night of the Soul”. A way to keep the darkness within in check, that everlasting foe that challenged Churchill, our personal abyss. The reverse of the medal is that it made me forget too much. But it keeps my mind fresh and somewhat untainted, and it was the only way to survive. The binding and the darkness are one though, and curiously enough, that darkness makes me feel safe.


And then there’s the contract. To give my best to the world. It’s linked to my fortune.
If I’m unlucky it simply means I’m either procrastinating or wasting my energy in pointless ventures that do not help this planet in any tiny way whatsoever. It makes my give out my best and to honorably earn, and deserve whatever boons providence sends my way.


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