Tsarren's New Writeups

If I don't care, I don't have to hurt (idea)

2001-11-26T19:10:27Z

Once, I lived for the seeking of that which is beautiful; even the smallest points of light in the darkest forgotten corners would call to me, their tremulous flickering warming my soul as it passed through the cold dismal winters of this life. I glance behind at my footprints in the black sand and see the gentle glow of a trail of perfect moments stretching out into the distance, interspersed with nothing. Is this, then, my life - after being distilled and purified and reduced to something that I can hold in the palm of my hand?

In my seeking I dream of that which is not real; horizons which cannot exist except in thought lay one on top the other, and for a moment in flight I stare into that infinity and am free to ride the winds that do not carry any hate, or pain, or fear. Niether do they carry love or joy, but just for this moment, it does not matter.

For on this farthest shore of…

preamp (thing)

2001-11-15T06:57:56Z

In low-end sound equipment, the preamp is often in the same box as the tuner, receiver, and amplifier. Higher-end preamps are often combined with a tuner and receiver, but left separate from the amp. The less stuff you have in one box, the less likely you are going to have components interfering with each other.
If all you are doing is listening to music on a two-channel system, technically the only thing you need before the amplifier is a preamp. Unless you have a dedicated two-channel system, however, you might as well get a tuner/receiver/preamp, which is usually just called a receiver.

nobody's perfect (idea)

2001-11-15T06:26:38Z

You said no one is perfect
I proved it yet again
no one can save this broken world
though I feel the need to try
no one can be perfect
but it's not enough, it never is
I expected something more
something better from myself

But underneath the armor
Lie the flaws I refused to see
If you push deep enough
Look long enough
Eventually you'll find the flaws
That I refuse to see

Everything I touch
falls to dust, falls into pieces
perhaps not at this moment
while I fill your eyes with light
but somehow it will happen
that misguided thought will come
out of nowhere, into nothing
leaving trails of broken things

For underneath the layers
lurks the pain that I can bring
If you search hard enough
Seek far enough
Eventually you'll find the pain
That I didn't know I'd bring

Is there nothing I can…

Psychic Vampire (person)

2001-10-03T00:44:06Z

On a purely psychological level, providing emotional support to someone will mentally wear you out, as will being around people who are expressing negative emotions, as those emotions will tend to affect your own. Conversely, anyone who walks into a roomfull of happy energetic friends usually can't help but perk up a little themselves.

Concerning the metaphysical level: a fairly common belief among several religions and systems of magick is one of the existence of energy that permeates all living things. This energy can be manipulated and exchanged in a variety of ways, and it is likely that there are numerous individuals who do so without realizing it.

Energy exchange can take place in a number of situations and in varying volumes. Sometimes, when providing emotional support to people, your energy and theirs can mingle a little, and you might even give small amounts to them. This is normal and natural, especially if there is physical contact. A person under severe…

This was my childhood (idea)

2001-09-05T05:01:16Z

Even then, waking up in the mornings for school was something I didn't much like, but you never thought about getting enough sleep at that age. Television was for cartoons, even the weird ones in which the female characters had huge eyes and super-high-pitched voices. I remember the first VCR, and how renting a movie was a big deal. My dad brought home the Star Wars trilogy over the course of three days; that was the first time I ever saw it.

I had a fascination with swords that started when I was three, for no apparent reason. I coveted the silver plastic swords in the checkout aisles in K-mart. The boy next door became my closest playmate, fueling my tomboyish inclinations as we built starships out of lego bricks and dueled with sticks of bamboo. You had to be careful with the stuff; it would occasionally cut you without warning.

Summers were the grandest times; our yard was free of stickers and so lush and green and I remember running from one end of…

Let me count all the pieces (idea)

2001-08-30T00:52:10Z

From the outside, perhaps, I look whole. There are not, after all, pieces of my body randomly wandering off on their own accord, an ear listening to small talk here and a hand futzing with a doorknob there. Even not-so-close friends try and gauge my mood and my mind and find nothing other than that I appear inscrutable (a relic, I suppose; old armor still in place).

It has been a long time since I was last shattered, since someone unknowingly took a sledgehammer to my heart by the simple act of not caring. But like blood those pieces eventually run back together; whether the whole mess gets shoved back inside of you to wait for someone else or it gets washed down a storm drain is up to you you and circumstance and fate or whatever you want to call it.

But there comes a point when your very soul begins to fragment, not so much a sundering as a differentiation, almost like parts of your mind waking up and…