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A sigh of leaves

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Sometimes you think you hear the wind in the leaves, and raise your eyes, welcoming the change. But no, it wasnīt. It was just this or that tree, letting go some of that feeling of being still. Thatīs why I keep walking, even if at times it looks like my goal moves with me... I think, I wouldnīt want to feel that way, stuck. Canīt afford it. I made a promise,

and to myself, first. But it is more than that. Itīs a new me that Iīm moving towards. Itīs home. And there cannot be two mes, two homes. The old is already left behind. I just have not reached the new yet... When younger, growth, change of shape took place without me noticing. The heart was too full of choking feelings. I would just wake up to being different! But now the heart is (how should I call it...) strong (?) enough to keep me aware through the whole metamorphosis. Like a long, long mirror plane, with just one other mirror at the far end. A tunnel of well arranged feelings, with happiness still being out of sight. Right now, I think itīs loneliness I pass through. So I write here, pretending that it is part of a real game, hoping I can persuade my heart to give out a bit of that end joy I promised. I make my promises with the heart.

This is why I donīt use that word often... Promises seldom depend just on our wills, donīt they? Last time I did use it, it seemed safe. I assumed. I can only hope now that the person I made it to understood why I canīt keep it. And did not get hurt... I go back to being cautious. And to aiming for an accomplishment which will help us forget what could not be. An accomplishment like the joining in a first campaignīs play.

How long would still be until that happens... There is no other secret of the universe I would more want discovered, now. Here, again, I approach writing about it, based on hints from my current progress alone. And on faith. Or on a stubborn determination to succeed. But you heard that already. Letīs just get to the facts.

(Caught you. That last sentence was too abrupt. Youīre fine, yes?) Iīm learning things, or at least I hope I am. The more material I venture in, the less certain I can be that it will pop out from memory when needed. And there is so much to become familiar with. Life can be so amazingly complex, and if thereīs a limit out there to what can take place, here, in the realm of imagination, life can enjoy infinity for sure. But this is what I came here for.

I wonder, will I ever feel ready enough for it? Could I be, ever, certain that what I share with others will be the best of me? What came out to be expressed so far, on the lines of role-play, feels like a burden. A role I am really prepared for just with my love of nature. And a character so difficult I could not, so far, begin to take on, properly. There is excitement too. And I guess that is its price. But there is also this nature of my endeavor, of looking for realism - as for balancing it in me with fiction, and a great part of that realism are inescapable faults and failures, a dark side. Or fun is about taking all lightly, forgetting hardships of any kind, and logic often. It is in free association of opposites raised from so many spectrums, and mixed with a childish innocence, that fun, the soul, the joy of life, reveals itself to us.

Brings us together. Could it do that, though, without having behind it the strength of all the things that it ignores? I think not. To be free, one must be also bound. And the true freedom, maybe, is to choose oneīs bondage. That must have been said before by someone famous... It sounds cliché. But donīt ask me to quote it. It just came to mind. And most likely it was said thousands of times by many unknowns, before. Iīd like to give them credit too, by not quoting. Or to life, rather, free from individual claims. As possible. Phewww... This politically correct (to me) talk makes my head hurt. Where was I?

...Oh, yeah. I chose to be here, to become one of you. And the implications of that (among which, the mysterious strive for vocabulary I mentioned elsewhere) are better left to themselves. I sniff another politically correct talk on the prowl... Letīs call that Ranger jargon, shall we? By the way, after becoming neighbor with 5e rules, this outdoors stuff seems to be the most promising at taking the star seat in my learning show. Only I couldnīt mention anything in these pages. Unless Errandûrr would have to share something about his progress. Weīll see... From my point of view, as a player, it would not feel right.

An actor with no outdoors background, could at most hope to look good while pretending, perhaps. But in my case, the learning About ranger skills would, naturally, amount to only having gained a feeling of familiarity; there seems to be no way for knowledge picked up from words to replace the imprint of real life events. And it would fit me most sincerely to wield an Errandûrr with no experience, and just a tiny amount of skill, hoping that it would be enough. In spite of his redrawn nature, he would be, perhaps, at his place the most in a role of cooperation, relying on othersī knowledge and expertise; just as I would on that of my fellow players, at least in the matter of keeping the story going.

With the rest of role-playing, however, the big part of if - of choosing the right words to fit those of the team, and yield a coherent whole of style and glamor as the result - I can not bother others. It is my share of weight to hold alone. And, incidentally, the part at which I have the greatest difficulty adapting. And I said that because ĻimpossibleĻ is such a grim word. Donīt let this blog demonstration of wordsmanship full you. I feel I havenīt even begun to touch on role-play proficiency in my training...

Now, I know, and you probably figured that out too by now, that I need time to get things right - my kind of right. Time to get into detail and visit every bit of it, before coming out; and often only to go back again once more. Knowledge, style, skill, learned things in general (including ways learned among people), stick to me like water does on a duck. So I guess there has to be a lot of going back and forth before I get to say I am at ease with something. And then, also, itīs hard to let go... But I suppose many of you, having been here for so long, can relate to that last part at least. And I take heart from thinking that you all must have gone through some learning stage; and itīs only right that I do too, before joining you.

As with the rest of things I matched my wits against so far, there is a good chance that ĻlearningĻ to role-play will never bring me a feeling of certainty. But I am still hoping for a miracle to take place; the kind that does. That I will be inspired, and see the light to be known in the midst of you before reaching this promised land. And then I might dare skip stages...

Think not that I broke my promise and spoke of difficulties again. This isnīt speaking, because... I feel I havenīt burdened you in any way. Doesnīt this post feel more unwound and breezy than what weīre used to? Itīs just a sigh, thatīs what it is. But I keep walking, even if, sometimes, my soul seems to become shut within the shape I give it, as within wooden walls.

And we sometimes write here, to remind ourselves of the wind, and the sun, and of the quickly passing chirp of birds. And maybe of the wanderer who would stop in our shadow to rest a while.

(And oh, how we would uproot and join you on the way back to your rp world...)

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Updated 02-21-2018 at 07:33 PM by Erran (page formatting; meet my new friends: <p> and <br> :D)

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