Sea Fever

"Sea-Fever"

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

By John Masefield (1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)

I like this poem. I grew up on the shores of Connecticut, and have always lived within a few miles drive of the sea. It is part of my home, and I can't imagine living somewhere without an ocean nearby. It digs itself inside of you, crawling inside of your veins and urging you to be emerged in the water. The crashing of waves calls you back to the primordial womb, bringing out the most basic and instinctual of desires. When on it, wind ripping through your hair, you are more alive than you have ever been before, aware of every feeling and sensation and movement. When in it, it is almost like flying.

Maybe only people who spend a lot of time near the water can relate -- those from coastal towns or who make their living on the sea. But given enough time, it becomes an inherent part of you.

I must go down to the seas again.

Life Doesn't Hurt

I was MySpace stalking my best friend Melissa when I came across this quote on her profile, and I rather liked it:

"Life doesn't hurt until you think about how much things have changed, who you've lost along the way, and how much of it was your fault."

That resonates in me and strikes me as very true. There are moments...especially in times of quiet, when walking or driving or relaxing...when I begin to remember events and people from my past, and I am struck with a deep sense of melancholy. I am pained by the horrible things that people have done to me, and the awful situations which I have, at times, found myself in. I am humbled and shamed by the mistakes of my own. And perhaps the saddest moment of all is when I think of all the friends that I have lost contact with during my 22 years of life.

And, as the quote states, when I realize that a lot of it was my doing.

I think one of the three greatest regrets of my life is along this vein, and is related to the loss of my high-school best friend. He and I have since drifted far, far apart...we never talk, only occasionally bump into each other, and my attempts at rekindling a friendship have failed. Perhaps I was the first to cause the rift between us...during the dark, depressed years of my sophomore year, I certainly did not make enough time for him, when I should have. And yet, I think the final blow was his...the fact that my attempts to make things right were ignored.

And the pain is in the fact that once, we were inseparable. We spent every weekend together, hung out during every school lunch period, had a plethora of inside jokes. He knew all of my secrets, no matter how dark, and I was the only one who could read him like a book. We were perfectly content to just sit inside and watch movies all day, laughing and enjoying our time together. There was really no need for anyone else - we had each other, as the closest of best friends.

And now...to have lost that...it pains me.

But maybe I needed to experience that loss, in order to learn that I should never make the same mistake again, and completely neglect my friends. To remember that friendship is the most important thing that you can earn in life, and the lose it would be a tragedy. To learn that people cannot be ignored, and then picked up later when it is more convenient.

All these things I now understand.

And at least I got to enjoy that time of deep, effortless friendship...if only for a while.

Why I Love Survival Horror

Here's a little divergence from my normal, philosophical rambling.

I was very deep into the God of War game series (had just defeated Ares in God of War I) and was searching for a new game to play when my boyfriend dropped Resident Evil 4 on my lap and told me I should try it. Now, John has never steered me wrong, especially not in terms of video games. He is the one who lead me to God of War and Final Fantasy X, both of which I completed, and Devil May Cry, which I took a break from to start Resident Evil. I popped the disk, settled with John on the couch, and began to play.

At first, I was not impressed. I have never dealt well with horror movies, and the Ganados (zombie-like Spaniards) encountered in Resident Evil 4 were certainly frightening. I would scream or screech every time I turned around to find a monster lurking behind me, and had some difficult mastering the controls...especially since I tend to get flustered in moments of intensity. It was frightening, high-intensity, and complex, and I longed for the days of hacking and slashing with Kratos in God of War.

But, a few playing sessions passed and I found myself absolutely absorbed in the game. I loved the deep and complex storyline and grew attached to the plight of the characters...especially the main character, Leon Kennedy. After completing Resident Evil 4, I promptly played it a second time. John and I then moved on to Resident Evil 2, completing the A and B scenarios for each character, and finished the main series with Resident Evil 3. Yes, we were on a Resident Evil kick. A bit of a momentary obsession, perhaps. And I wondered what it was that got me hooked...especially since I was so apprehensive about it, in the first place.

Even though I've never been good with horror movies, it eventually struck me that I've always loved survival *horror*. Event Horizon, Doom, Pitch Black...I've always loved movies about being trapped in a difficult, frightening, fantastic situation, and having to use your wits and available resources to survive. It's quick, faced paced, and exhilarating, and there is never a free moment for the characters to react...they must act instantly in order to get past the zombies, vampires or monsters which face them. And, if they are sharp and in-shape enough, they will make it through.

That's what survival horror games bring to the table, while transporting you and making you involved in that world. It is a game of eat or be eaten, and it brings back the most basic of instincts...to avoid being hunted. It evokes emotions unlike those found in any other game...those of fear, suspense, dread, shock, surprise, and upon success, exhilaration. Sometimes you need to step away from the game, if you are not in a place or in the mood for fear, or if frustrated by a particularly difficult foe...but it's intoxicating to experience these feelings that you don't really encounter in real, civilized life. Emotions that are dead outside of a real battlefield.

Not only that, the Resident Evil games, and likewise series, are rich in storyline and huge on character development. They use similar characters throughout each of their games, such that you become attached and interested in the fate of each character...be it Leon, Ada, Jill, Claire, or Chris. The plot, which is woven and entangled through each installment, keeps you coming back for more and coming back to the games to unfold new plot details. That's what makes it addictive.

Survival horror. Indeed, there is no genre quite like it.

Oh yeah. Also, you get to be pretty bad-ass with a shotgun.

Strange Comfort

In most of my mistakes, big and small, it is comforting that I know my own self extremely well, and that even if I had to repeat the experience over, I would probably do the same thing every time.

That fact makes each error seem drastically less tragic, as it is not a fluke occurrence, but rather an inevitable event as a result of my personality and flaws.

It is, in a way, my own self-driven destiny.

And somehow, that makes me feel better.

The Three Sisters

In Greek mythology (and also described in other contexts in Roman, Romanian, Germanic Norn and Bavarian folklore), there were three sisters of fate, otherwise known as Moirae. They controlled the thinly-woven thread of each life, be it God, animal, or human. Clotho spun the thread from her distaff, while Lachesis measured it with her rod and determined how much time on the Earth would be allotted to each person. The final sister, Atropos, cut the thread, and in doing so, chose how each death would occur. Worshiped, revered but ultimately feared, they determined the course of each existence on the third day after birth, and that path could not be diverted from. Each moment, each experience, each monument was already decided, to the ignorance of the individual. People were merely players in a script that had already been written, reading it for the first time page-by-page on an all-too elaborate stage.

I've never been quite certain as to my feelings on fate. There are moments when I believe in destiny and the inevitable, and times when I doubt there is such a cosmic plan and feel that the course of time is driven by the twins of choice and chance. To believe in a pre-destined path is both comforting and stifling at the same time - it is disconcerting to believe that you have little choice in the course of your own life, yet, in times of despair or trouble, sets the mind at ease. It is consoling to believe that everything happens for a reason, and all will turn out well in the end.

And indeed, there are coincidences in my life that make me feel that it is all too perfect to be random...that the puzzle-pieces form too complete a picture to be the product of luck.

And then still, at times, life seems haphazard and unforgiving, and it seems that any purpose for it is impossible to find.

It is one of those unending, impossible questions that cannot be answered in life, and will only be resolved in the afterlife, if such a thing exists. And in truth, does it really matter what drives our destiny? Our life will occur as it will either way, and perhaps it is best to simply believe that which is most comforting, or most akin to our other beliefs. Perhaps to debate the existence or non-existence of fate is pointless. If there is destiny, than our best choices and decisions are certainly a part of it. If not, then they should aide in creating a better future.

And maybe there is the possibility of there being both...rather than a inevitable, singular path, perhaps each life is instead a complicated maze of twists and turns, cross-roads and caverns, forks and falls. A path in which there are several destinies, and the quality of your choices and actions determines the final outcome.

If such is the case, then I propose a different triad of sisters.

Call them Choice, Chance and Fate.

And you may believe in whichever set of sisters you choose.

Me and My Evil Twin

I've always known that I am two distinctively different people when I am in a relationship, and when I am single.

This comes to mind after my most recent attempt to "go out" last night to the various casinos around my Connecticut home town, despite the fact that my significant other is on spring break in New Jersey. During the summer, when I was in and out of fleeting relationships and for the most part quite single, I was out and partying most nights of the week. My counterpart, Melissa, and I frequented the local clubs at every opportunity and spent weekday evenings hopping between various groups of friends. There were few nights where we went home before at least 1 am - in particular, I can clearly recall crawling into bed at 4 in the morning after a particularly late evening, and then waking up at 6 am to head to work. We were quintessential party girls and night owls, and at the time, we absolutely loved it.

I've been in a serious relationship for the past three months now, and that person isn't really me any more. I haven't gone to a club in months, and my trips to the bar with friends have been few and far between. I find myself tired and ready for sleep around 11 or 12 (which may have more to do with work than my relationship status, but I digress) and with a lack of desire to really drink. I am quite content to spend my evenings curled up on the couch with my boyfriend, watch a movie, play some video games, cuddle up and fall asleep - and, because we are so compatible, it's wonderful and just as much fun as going out. All I could think about last night (especially since the night did not pan out as I had planned) was how much I wanted to relax in bed with him and watch a zombie movie.

It is me, and my wild twin...two quite different personalities, simply based on what stage in my life I am in.

Single me is untamed, impatient, and easily bored. She is constantly on the move and never sits still, needing to be occupied by activity and with people at every moment. She is flirtatious, overly friendly, and spontaneous. To a degree, she is self-destructive. Every day needs to be an adventure, and, as can be expected, drama follows close behind. She is the life of every party, always needing to be the focus of attention, and in attendance at every event.

Relationship me is more calm, relaxed, and takes the time to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. She is polite but unresponsive to the provokes of men, and is quick to assert that she is taken if asked. She takes each day slowly and carefully and gives everything to the people which she cares for. She is careful to keep her personal life secretive and is rare to divulge information about herself, preferring to keep people in the dark and maintain a degree of privacy. She is quieter than her wild twin.

And each personality has its perks, benefits and positive traits. Both of them have their flaws. To a degree, I wish I could blend the best parts of both and come to a solid, unified version of myself...whether I am single, or not.

But then again, both aspects benefit my needs at the time. The personalities are carefully designed and crafted to keep me ultimately happy and enjoying each moment. And maybe if I blended the two, it wouldn't be so, and I would find myself more miserable during my states of being single, or more unhappy when with a significant other.

So it may indeed be best this way.

It's just strange feeling like two people at once.

Love is Risk

Relationships, for me, have never come easy.

Not, particularly, in an emotional sense, but in terms of the effort which has been necessary to keep them alive. For the most part, this has manifested as distance. My significant others have always been at least an hour's drive away (three hours at the maximum), thus making the relationship far more of a challenge. Nightly phone conversations, meaningful gifts and many gallons of gas were needed to maintain the bond which had been built...moments together, which so many couples take for granted, were considered precious and rare. It was difficult to upkeep, requiring a lot of extra work and hours on the road - yet, it was effort I was always willing to do.

And even now, in my most current relationship, it has not necessarily been easy. There have been roadblocks put up between us at many steps along the way, but through sheer force of will (and perhaps an innate stubbornness, on both our parts) we have hurdled them all...and, through all the work, found myself in a state of happiness, with someone I wouldn't trade for anything.

All of these experiences have made me realize that love is risk. It is not necessarily going to be easy. There will be challenges and difficulties along the way...problems that make you think that maybe it's not worth it. There will be people who will stand in your way, conventions that must be broken, expectations to be surpassed. It could be distance, as it has often been with me, or it could be age, religion, race, differences in opinion, differences in friends or family lifestyle, flaws in personality...anything.

But with the right person, it is always worth it to take that risk. The effort and the work that it takes to surpass all these problems can only deepen the bond between the two individuals. It makes the moments together all the more sweet and blissful, because it is deeply appreciated. If it was always easy, the love would not appear to be anything special...and, as mundane things often do, it would fade. It is the risk which makes it exciting, adventurous, intoxicating, and at the same time comfortable. It is a test, in order to ensure that the relationship is right...because if you aren't willing to fight for it, what's the point?

I suppose in all of this, my point is to take the risk. Don't turn down the opportunity for love or happiness because a roadblock stands in your way, in any form.

You may just find it was worth it.