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Archive for the ‘Personal Thoughts’ Tag

Untitled #3   Leave a comment

I think I’m funny
But I know that I’m not that funny
At the best I’m kind of punny
But mostly I’m punishing the people
Around me who have to hear another attempt
At me trying to tempt them to like me
For more than just the jokes that I say.
I’m keep on praying that my prey
Won’t run away from the mask of a clown
I wear when I try to make new friends.
I can’t show them the lone kid crying in his room.

Performing illusions for the illusions
He made up to make himself feel wanted.
All I’ve wanted was to make others happy.
I want to make others smile.
To make them forget all their problems for a little while.
But its not my style to be entertaining.
So I end up complaining to the echos
Alone in my room.
Alone with my thoughts,
Alone in my tomb.

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Posted 06/21/2017 by Shaman in Poetry

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Small Talk   Leave a comment

I brought it up
‘Cause it bothers me too
I didn’t mean
To bother you
So I’ll shut up
Like I usually do
And talk about the weather.

– Shaman Romney 2017

Posted 05/18/2017 by Shaman in Poetry

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My Poetry   Leave a comment

​My poetry
Is me knowing me
Or me blowing me
I haven’t decided yet

– Shaman Romney 2017

Posted 05/10/2017 by Shaman in Poetry

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So, I Quit Facebook…   Leave a comment

A couple of weeks ago, I got fed up with Facebook. I never really engaged in the social aspect of social networking. I mostly just used it to stalk old friends and crushes, watch people yell at each other, read funny memes from George Takei, and overall waste time not doing the things I should be doing. In addition to it being a colossal time waster, I found it was making me more and more depressed. I’d get to see high school friends getting nice jobs, buying homes, having kids, getting married, living life to the fullest, having all sorts of awesome adventures, etc. Doing everything I wish I could do if I wasn’t too busy dicking around on Facebook.

So, in a bout of lucid self loathing, I said, “To hell with this! A pox on thee, Facebook, and thy creator, Zuckerberg too!” Well, I said that in some universe, at least in my head. But, I did go and deactivate my Facebook, deciding that I needed a break from it. That was about two weeks ago.

I don’t really miss it all that much. I tend to keep in touch with the people I actually care about, as they are the ones who bother to text me and actively attempt to see me. They actually try to be real friends, perish the thought. I don’t really miss out on current events, political debates, or funny memes. I have other websites for that, and although they can be a bit of a time sink as well they don’t drop my mood or trap me in some stupid little skinner box.

I don’t say this to admonish people who do enjoy Facebook. It can be great for keeping in touch with friends, reconnecting, and sharing your life with others. I know both my parents have used it to get in touch with old friends and distant family, and my dad posts pictures from his garden all the time. People use it to arrange hangouts and catalog their fun times with each other. It has its uses, but I wasn’t making use of them.I was using it in all the bad ways, and making bad habits. So I think it was good move to give it the axe.

wpid-quiting-facebook1

Yes, yes, I know, Random-Meme-I-Pulled-From-Google. I’m not saying I am done for good. I know eventually I will get sucked back in and reactivate my profile. But I think it will be later rather than sooner. You know why I think that?

Because I already did it. I got curious and I wanted to see what happened in my two-week long absence. So I signed back in while I was at lunch. I had a few missed notifications, but mostly it was just filled with the same inane bull that I hated and was trying to ignore in the first place. People posting drama statuses. People praising Hillary/Trump as the second coming of Jesus. George Takei posting a cat pic. All of the time-wasting goodness I used to eat up like it was my last meal.

Did I get sucked in? For about 5 minutes. Then it hit me: I really didn’t care. It isn’t worth my time or brain power. So, I disabled it again. Maybe this time it’ll be for two months. Maybe even two years. By that time, who even knows if Facebook will even be the big thing any more? It may totally be some twitter Snapchat amalgam that provides even less thought and more cats. (It’s the internet, it’s always more cats.)

Either way, I think I am going to steer clear of it, and actually enjoy going outside and living life playing video games and watching YouTube. You know, the important things in life.

 

Thank you for reading :),

Shaman

Posted 07/30/2016 by Shaman in Personal Thoughts

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How do you even write fiction?   2 comments

My friends and I have started a writing group. They all want to improve as writers, and I want to try and start writing fiction stories. I have a lot of cool ideas, and I think it would be better if they are out in the world instead of gathering dust in the back of my brain. Ideas have always been easy for me, the hard part is actually writing the story.

How does someone even write fiction? Do you just make stuff up?

I used to know how when I was younger. I could sit down and write pages of fiction without any effort. The characters, plot, and everything else about them sucked. But at least I could write it. Now I find myself staring at the keyboard, its QWERTYs, ASDFs, and WASDs burning my soul with their judging mocking gaze.

If you ask me to create a character for Dungeons and Dragons, or any other RPG? I’ll not only make a mechanically unique and effective character, but I will build him a detailed backstory with family records, milestones, mannerisms, etc. But I cant turn it into any sort of narrative story.

Ask me to write a blog post? I can put down 500 to 1000 words on a topic in an hour, 3 if I need to revise/make it sound good. It’s not hard for me to put my thoughts down, as I write the way I think and speak. But fiction means I have to put myself in someone else’s head, and I don’t know how to do that.

So when you tell me to sit down and write a fiction story? You might as well tell me to win the lottery or grow wings and fly.

I know a large part of it is a lack of experience. You don’t go into the gym and start benching 200 lbs if the last time you did 100 lbs was in high school. That is a good way to injure yourself. I can’t jump into a chihuahua crushing epic fantasy novel without tearing my corpus callosum either.

However, I have no idea where to even start. I have all of these ideas buzzing in my head: cool scenes straight out of a move, a Silmarillion’s worth of world building, and a somewhat unique magic system. I’m an avid reader of both too many books and too much TVTropes. What else would I need? Actual talent?

It’s like I have a fresh batch of ingredients and a full purpose kitchen, but I only know how to make a grilled cheese. I’m just the wordsmith equivalent of a line cook who has been asked to make whatever he thinks would impress the food critic. I hope he likes Kraft singles and white bread.

The point of this post was to state I may also start posting short stories here, in addition to rants both political and personal, and my poetry. Just like with Politalking, I am going to try and keep things labelled, so that those of you who check my blog out for the poetry alone can skip it if you want.

Time for me to drop down and give 20 paragraphs. Wish me luck!

 

-Shaman

Posted 07/25/2016 by Shaman in Personal Thoughts, Writing

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Stay Alive   1 comment

“I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory”
That line resonates with me.
Does is symbolize my life’s futility?
Or does the specter of death drive a person to their destiny?

I’ll never make history
I won’t be on money, the worlds already forgotten me
Even though I show a certain proclivity
All I see is dust on my skills, my talents, on me.

Do I resign to be abandoned, alone?
Give up on life, be shut in at home?
Neglect the skills I’ve taken years to hone
Until I wither to dust and bone?

No! I’ve decided I’m going to take my shot.
Insecurities, fears; yeah I have a lot.
But even if I miss, and get forgotten
It better than letting it all turn rotten

I don’t want to quit, I want to keep trying
and get busy living, but there’s no denying
that I think way too much about dying
But I think that hides my underlying

Will to survive
My will to thrive
My fitful drive
to stay alive.

– Shaman Romney 2016

P.S: Listening to too much Hamilton? No such thing. 🙂

Posted 05/12/2016 by Shaman in Poetry, Uncategorized

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Destruction Gumbo   Leave a comment

I am the architect
Of my own destruction.
Because,
When you boil it down,
All that is left is this reduction
Of bad decisions,
Squandered opportunities
And misplaced bets.
Of victories never tasted,
A lifetime of regrets.

Above it all is me,
Holding the spoon,
Stirring the pot.
This recipe tastes horrible,
But its the only one I’ve got.
So I keep trying to make it better
Mixing in more spices.
Alcohol, Cigarettes,
Self harm, and other vices.

No matter what I try,
This awful taste
Just tastes the same.
This bitter acrid varnish
That is the flavor of my shame.
Maybe I should quit,
Throw the whole mess out.
Get rid of all these things
That seem to fill my heart with doubt.

But no I think I like it,
This strange acquired taste.
Throwing all this out would be
Such a waste.
Sure, it tastes awful,
But at least its uniquely mine.
And at the end of the day
That makes it fine.

-Shaman Romney 2015

Posted 06/15/2015 by Shaman in Poetry

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