Warp Bridge Expansion Protocol

It’s been a long time since the last time I was here.

9 months or so.

And in that time, our expeditions to the realms of abstraction and security have been fighting heavily to bring back information. As my research oratories theorised and debated, this blog was not forgotten; and the tools, the precision arts of literature and microforecasting, are now within our grasp. I now stand prepared to retake the helm of this platform and begin its operation as a content delivery system proper.

Energy stabilisation is the last key goal for this expedition. The Department of Heuristic Observation and The Legion of The Predicators have begun broader investigations on this matter. In the meantime, there is finally solitude across all of the Conglomerate, and its Protectees.

A long lost federation can now begin to fly again. If only we knew of Hiigara.

Maimed and backed into a corner

When one first said “be yourself” – they surely didn’t mean it to end like this.

It seems the true colours behind my mind are being tarnished – from the inside. See, look here; these emblems and draperies are normally proud to be azure. But they’re not, are they?

What can you see now? Rouge. Literally, rouge. Here, a despicable and sickly cosmetic that has grown out of control and been smeared around like some sort of gawkfitti.

When I first saw the trend of my activity over the past months, I was shocked and alarmed, shortly followed by indignant and violently frightened. It took less than a minute before there were bandied whispers of femme fatale (like visceral snakes) and cries of “Oh my god.” – because at heart, these personalities were right. Collectively, they were never intended to form me as a selfrighteous idiot bitch; or worse, a seducer.

Leveraging gender and pity? How the hell did you not see that? Why do you cling to pity and dependance?

Another bitter drunk embarrassment to add to the pile. I’m sure of that much, but no, what troubles me more is that they’ll be back, and they keep twisting my arm and brushing the grit off my neurons. No. What really fucks me is that it’ll come back, like some sort of never ending history trail. There aint a promise or end to it that I can be relied upon to deliver. It’d be kinda uncertain that there’s anything left about here that can still get a tactical grip on a situation. For all I’ve had in life, it disappoints me can’t even promise to eliminate a damn taint and make sure won’t be back. I’ve been fighting fire with vengeance in a desperate endeavour to stave it off for some sleep. But the mofo bounced back, messed in my brain some more, and suffocated me with darkness and fear on its way out! It’s some sort of adventurous, cliché ripped, battle to keep free of urges – but books are successful because people relate to them.

It’s just ironic (and thus further clichéd), that these very seductive urges that besiege me were the result of hopeless solitude in the first place. Take a look at this page on Maslow’s Hierarchy, and tell me what you see – and note that this is a subconscious grab for romance in lieu of love. I’m not trained in clinical psychology, but what I can say is that it’s a pathetic and volatile imitation and substitute for a proper relationship, disturbing the very foundations of trust that a coalition must be built upon.

As the conflict ensued between these zealots and the true-azure survivalists (outraged that the lust would run uncontrollably and disturb a stable living), there was a crisis that pitched my mind into terror. I’m on the run from them now – there wasn’t exactly anywhere else to go to.

Note the lack of any family relationships above? Note my vicious tone that is rather unbefitting and odd? I blame my family for a lifetime of independence, indifference and insults. In their own way… understandable; but not brilliant. It’s spurned a life of untrust, cut off and eternal vigilance. There are few that know my secrets, and none yet that understand the complexity and deep shit that I got stuck in. Bitterly, the concept of reassurance and happiness was turned over its head for solitude and isolation.

Personality wise, this is exacerbated by a feminine partygoing persona, the first visage you meet. It’s all too typical of a modern girl: deceptively simple, eternally drunk and yet have proper limits. It doesn’t benefit from tactical analysis, wisdom or rhythm and dead stupid.

Totally false and unreflective of the internal workings. Desperate in time, desperate in love, and a complete recipe for disaster. But coping normally, not like those… creepy, old people with their stiff rules and weird habits. Total ugh!

But as much as spontaneity is lively, loose and happy, it doesn’t give much unless it’s tempered with a bit of temporal awareness. Sleep.

You can see where this is going, right? I hope so. I’m not really sure if I’ve been making the concept link into each other, I’m so freaking tired and bitter.


Because of the lack of trust, the sleep deficiency kicks in and wipes out any defensive personas, mucking up their concept of rhythm. Without timing, defence is uselessly ineffective and gives out to fear and lust. Something stupid will be said.   BAM.

Of course, I’m watching this fucker. This demon succubus isn’t getting away, and there might actually be some interesting shit to talk about then. Question is, how do you get to grips with a fight with one? The supply routes are adequately slashed. I can barely think straight because I stayed up late to write this out of sheer fustration. Social isolation progresses because of that sleepless fear, causing an alert on stupidity, and inertia isn’t exactly working in my favour…

Time and trust will tell, I suppose. First thing is to get a grip on everything, not just half like this, at one instant. I might actually see where to go from there. (Um, no actually. It’d be to get some nice sleep :P )

A plan against Social Awkwardness

*scrawled marker writing on a virtual board – organised into the form of arrows, plots and a map. Listed via the LCD are various labels and objectives, methods and directions of assault, weaponry lists and armament stores, logistical routes, bombardment, troop movements… this is war.*

The lady standing at this board has pocketed the stylus and turned around.

Strategy. I take pride in it. It’s a right I’m here to damn well keep, too.

If someone wants to take that right, it’ll be over my cold, dead body. You just fucking try.

Anyway. That isn’t the point. I must advise you I don’t take kindly to patronisation. And I’m keeping my rights while I’m at it. That includes my damn dignity.

You think it’d probably be wise not to insult her while you’re at it.

These plans are being written up for an inquiry into social conduct. It’s come into question before and it needs to be analysed and understood before moving on.

Bigger picture, social dynamic has to be worked on, sealed down and resolved before anything else gets moving on. But it’s a deep subject.

Hence the strategy board.

Keeping my goddamn rights is… tradition.

Also with this, taking things by complete storm.

Now, this all has to be arbited and approved at some point by the personas responsible for auditing-arbitration and privacy, but believe me, innundations of stupid clueless Laana are long gone. Response times, reallocation and divesture… a lot of paperwork is being filed over in this brain, and it’s all in stability’s sake. Clarity of expression isn’t long off the horizon; it’s just where to find the damn thing.

Then? We might start getting into the meat and potatoes of this lot. I’ll get those resolutions. I’ll… kick the bastards in the fucking balls. And finally get some goddamn, bloody peace. *sigh*

The Last Front

Things have escalated. The times are trying and at times, people seem like they’re after my back to persecute me. It’s a rather perplexing predicament.

Shutting in? It’s still not healthy, and if I’m going to hold the last few cords keeping me together, I’ll have to move off them soon. Questions will be raised as to what and how, and if this is all really right; a reasoned, balanced judgement still must be made, at least to some extent (as my bureaucracy is with counsel…). But time is running out, more than ever. These strains are placing their knives to the throat of some very important strands of mind. Letting one of these fall would be enough to cause some very, very, very serious damage to whatever remains of my sanity.

Well, not that I’ve lost it.

And yet, I still question what, how? Corruption exists; to what extent? What amends will be made? Could I accidentally exacerbate the precarious situation, irritate yet more of my friends; hide, and create backstabbing and mutual mistrust by overcaution?

Whatever it is, there will be expression. It’s been too long.

Running; across all worlds, virtual, mental fantasy, real. Running, across escapism, from mistrust and misunderstanding, persecution and solitude, and trying to fill the void with what I never could myself. Running with what I have left of a soul, and order; running from corruption and without the tools to express it, and to keep an appreciation of reason, understanding and respect. I’d rather die first.

The fact is there. It needs to go to paper, words, diagrams or else. It needs to know it can be acted on. It needs to know hope exists in change of direction. It needs to know that corruption can’t take what’s left or punch through integrity, into the mental sanctum.

The last front. The last war. My mind and I; we are ready, and we will defend the last link to sanity to our death (not that I’m planning that any time soon… you’ll have to put up with me for a while yet ;) )

What next? September

A lot of logistics work is under way to prepare the way for the next month of posts. Things to expect?

First, apologies and social triage. Habit security and the like. This includes the continuation of the tempo shift, explanations, observations and the like.

A history and front report, plus scouting, us due.

Then, groundwork for a future, over the next 2 months…

Light. Intellectual philosophy, jediism, pragmatic morality, buddhism, and a nice paladin comparison to Planet of the Hats’s post on hands, as well as my concept on mana. Faith.
Articulation. Illustration. Tone. Blame by “you” statements. Socially awkward penguin makes about 5 visits here.
Feminine takes and stances, getting old, and fashion. And jeans. And appearance as reflective. And paramilitarism.
Long rants on passion and innovation, and lots of flaming and slamming teachers, especially in NZ.
Addiction and its significance.
Myers-Briggs will make an appearance.
Guide writing will most definitely be covered

In subsequent, real game oriented content, leadership and WoT, as well as strategy and a long rant on idiot leadership, as well as draft internal work on a leadership handbook for my quarticentennial. In addition, the constitution and vision will be written within the next 10 days.

The keystone for the month is an explanation of current battle doctrines, tactics and strategy for the next 3 years, as well as the tiers of quality and strike efficiency tactics. Contrast, quality, control and a whole lot if other stuff I can’t think of at 2330h.

I also got a promotion at work lined up. Unofficially yet, but I’m told by a reliable source…
The pay rise? UNBELIEVABLY AWESOME. Means I can go shopping for clothes tomorrow too.

I’m pretty confident I can queue this all up, but it may be a little longer than a month if things go south. But this ends a long dynasty of unpreparedness and the start of a long journey. But a very worthwhile one. This is no boring old crusty blog or collapsing project. This is a full combat force, with siege armament and formidable bombardment capability. If you’re sitting comfortably on a shit, unruly class and doing absolutely nothing about fixing it… get worried. I’m coming for your ass. The Conglomerate had the funding, will and force to take you on and win in a firefight. Teaching in New Zealand will improve at all cost. We cannot afford to be laid back and all I can and will use all force possible to achieve such an objective. There is no future for a New Zealand without a solid education, and if we can’t even convince IB uptake to be at least 70% I don’t know what we’re thinking and trying, but it’s not working. I’m not that. As a nextgen of the late 80s, this a fresh, new insightful tactical taskforce, specialist designed for maximum impact and flexibility, innovation and pioneership, with undying prose and resolve. This its not going to be another flop. This is an elite taskforce, purpose designed to engage and win, with tactics and strategy that no other information distribution had gone for, on a front where a victory is a victory for the world and a defeat is one we cannot afford

Tomorrow will lay out stage 1 SEAD and carrier insertion reports, tempo and maaaybe vision. Soon after are social notes.
I now finally hold the munitions and fuel to make a difference (it shows on my face too). It’s time to engage. Strike forces launches have been on to double as of late and have been under immense pressure to stay secure and I’m glad the ops theatre and farce is to be resolved within the next fortnight. Reactors offline, all hatches seal for evening signoff.

Kt-Lt Seranaar, out.