Address to the Community
About:
During a bout of drama in one of the roleplay communities, I noted my concern for my fellow roleplayers. It was the birth of the Opium Theory and Hurricane Theory, so I thought I'd post it.
The Essay:
(( As if I haven't said it all before.
Those of you who don't know, I've been around here a while, even before the dawn of North. I've had quite a few pages, and I've been moving in the background for so long....
Before I go on, let me spare my words for North. North is the crowning acchievement of my character development. She is exactly what I've been trying to make all of these years. She's the darling of everything I've ever written, and if this ends up blowing up and I have to leave her behind for brighter shores, it'll be a hole I can never refill.
That being said, I'm against the new plots not because I don't like the idea and not because I'm afraid of how it'll hurt us in the end.
I'm afraid for you.
You, the admins. You, the real people behind the screen. You, the people who wield the keyboards that bring to life people who will never walk or speak like us. You, the roleplayer.
Writing is an emotional activity. You know it and I know it. When you write, and when you read, the emotions of the character affect you as a person.
Don't say it isn't so. It's true for me too. I post jokes about roleplay addictions, I joke how North and I act so much alike somwtimes.
But it isn't funny, not when it goes beyond just a writer's affair with their creation. Sure, I may say nimrod all the time now, and have to repress the urge to address those around me as "comrade." But I have not become North.
Some of you have become your creations.
When the line between that which we make and that which we are blur, we begin to feel as though what our character feels is our own feeling. We cannot allow this to occur. It may not feel like a bad thing, and it may even improve your life to a degree. But it's opium.
We know what opium is. A drug that gives you a wonderful high, but you need more and more each time you try it until your life is spent on opium, opium. It turns ugly very quickly.
We all joke that roleplaying is our drug, but it can't be our opium. We will destroy ourselves like that.
I've made myself clear on the community plotlines. I don't like them only because the stress of keeping up with an entire community as to prevent missing a sinlge twist or turn can be so stressful that it ruins your flow of writery. When you are stressed, chances are you aren't going to be able to tolerate those around you... in real life and in the internet world.
Combine the merge of Creator and Created, the Opium Theory, and stress.
You have a diaster, a time bomb, waiting to happen.
In most communities, we have trolls who bring this hate to the surface, lancing the ugly blister of negative energy boiling under the surface of the community. Trolls take the hate of the community and directit towards themselves as to prevent the inevitable breakdown of the community itself.
But trolls can't troll forever. They might be amazing humans, but they are just that: human.
And sometimes, they can't bother to step fowards again to end the pain. Sometimes, those involved have to learn themselves how to care for themselves.
So, what do we have?
We have a collection of people who need to live real lives but have one foot in their own worlds. We have a collection of opium addicts. We have a bunch of young men and women who are stressed beyond their levels of stress. We have a severe lack of trolls to end it.
And we have a big problem to solve.
I understand the reasons for this plot, and if the conditions were different, I would play along, and gladly so. But the conditions aren't prime for this. We were just healing from WWIII. We were happy roleplayers... some of us, for once.
And now? We let emotions step in, we take another hit of our opium, and we break. This is not creativity and this is not fun flowing through the veins of our community.
It is rage, it is hate, and it is fear.
I know the real world is not fun and games. I know the real world is full of hate and pain and hellfire. I know that situations like this always, always erupt.
There may be no way to stop it.
We can only stay calm, sit back, and wait.
If our world crumbles, those of us sane enough to stay out of this chaos can rebuild. We've done it before... history repeats. And when you're working with Hetalia, history is everything.
That said... I'm leaving.
Not forever. Not for long. And not really. I'm going to sit back and watch, and wait. I'm here to talk to you, and I'm here for the small pages who still need a large one to follow. And when the fire is burnt out, when the hate has run out of fuel, and when everyone can be happy in their own skins and when everyone works through their opium addictions, I will return to full participation in this terrible, wonderful illness we bring upon ourselves called roleplaying.
In the words of someone wise, feel free to hate me. Call me names, insult my opinions. In the end, this was written on US soil. You cannot stop me.
If I rain on your parades, bring along an umbrella, and if I throw a wrench in your gears, use it to fix the broken machinery.
In the words of another wise one, these things take time and they take backbone. I have and will use both.
I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss the days when we could log on and not fear the words others have written.
My email is "this is novel @yahoo.com", minus the spaces. If you somehow have your wits and don't hate me for being sane, write to me. We can be sane together.
To those on the East Coast, my darling fellows, stay safe in this hell we call Irene. When the storm both here and in the community blow over, we can take rolecall and make sure no one was harmed.
The best friends are made through roleplaying. We all say it. And it's true. Each of you are good people, and have been the best roleplayers I've had the honor to write with. It's truely sad that we need to be separate for a while.
Until the storm ends and springtime comes home, my brothers and sisters, in this world we built together.... stay safe. Be happy.
Stand strong. ))
Those of you who don't know, I've been around here a while, even before the dawn of North. I've had quite a few pages, and I've been moving in the background for so long....
Before I go on, let me spare my words for North. North is the crowning acchievement of my character development. She is exactly what I've been trying to make all of these years. She's the darling of everything I've ever written, and if this ends up blowing up and I have to leave her behind for brighter shores, it'll be a hole I can never refill.
That being said, I'm against the new plots not because I don't like the idea and not because I'm afraid of how it'll hurt us in the end.
I'm afraid for you.
You, the admins. You, the real people behind the screen. You, the people who wield the keyboards that bring to life people who will never walk or speak like us. You, the roleplayer.
Writing is an emotional activity. You know it and I know it. When you write, and when you read, the emotions of the character affect you as a person.
Don't say it isn't so. It's true for me too. I post jokes about roleplay addictions, I joke how North and I act so much alike somwtimes.
But it isn't funny, not when it goes beyond just a writer's affair with their creation. Sure, I may say nimrod all the time now, and have to repress the urge to address those around me as "comrade." But I have not become North.
Some of you have become your creations.
When the line between that which we make and that which we are blur, we begin to feel as though what our character feels is our own feeling. We cannot allow this to occur. It may not feel like a bad thing, and it may even improve your life to a degree. But it's opium.
We know what opium is. A drug that gives you a wonderful high, but you need more and more each time you try it until your life is spent on opium, opium. It turns ugly very quickly.
We all joke that roleplaying is our drug, but it can't be our opium. We will destroy ourselves like that.
I've made myself clear on the community plotlines. I don't like them only because the stress of keeping up with an entire community as to prevent missing a sinlge twist or turn can be so stressful that it ruins your flow of writery. When you are stressed, chances are you aren't going to be able to tolerate those around you... in real life and in the internet world.
Combine the merge of Creator and Created, the Opium Theory, and stress.
You have a diaster, a time bomb, waiting to happen.
In most communities, we have trolls who bring this hate to the surface, lancing the ugly blister of negative energy boiling under the surface of the community. Trolls take the hate of the community and directit towards themselves as to prevent the inevitable breakdown of the community itself.
But trolls can't troll forever. They might be amazing humans, but they are just that: human.
And sometimes, they can't bother to step fowards again to end the pain. Sometimes, those involved have to learn themselves how to care for themselves.
So, what do we have?
We have a collection of people who need to live real lives but have one foot in their own worlds. We have a collection of opium addicts. We have a bunch of young men and women who are stressed beyond their levels of stress. We have a severe lack of trolls to end it.
And we have a big problem to solve.
I understand the reasons for this plot, and if the conditions were different, I would play along, and gladly so. But the conditions aren't prime for this. We were just healing from WWIII. We were happy roleplayers... some of us, for once.
And now? We let emotions step in, we take another hit of our opium, and we break. This is not creativity and this is not fun flowing through the veins of our community.
It is rage, it is hate, and it is fear.
I know the real world is not fun and games. I know the real world is full of hate and pain and hellfire. I know that situations like this always, always erupt.
There may be no way to stop it.
We can only stay calm, sit back, and wait.
If our world crumbles, those of us sane enough to stay out of this chaos can rebuild. We've done it before... history repeats. And when you're working with Hetalia, history is everything.
That said... I'm leaving.
Not forever. Not for long. And not really. I'm going to sit back and watch, and wait. I'm here to talk to you, and I'm here for the small pages who still need a large one to follow. And when the fire is burnt out, when the hate has run out of fuel, and when everyone can be happy in their own skins and when everyone works through their opium addictions, I will return to full participation in this terrible, wonderful illness we bring upon ourselves called roleplaying.
In the words of someone wise, feel free to hate me. Call me names, insult my opinions. In the end, this was written on US soil. You cannot stop me.
If I rain on your parades, bring along an umbrella, and if I throw a wrench in your gears, use it to fix the broken machinery.
In the words of another wise one, these things take time and they take backbone. I have and will use both.
I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss the days when we could log on and not fear the words others have written.
My email is "this is novel @yahoo.com", minus the spaces. If you somehow have your wits and don't hate me for being sane, write to me. We can be sane together.
To those on the East Coast, my darling fellows, stay safe in this hell we call Irene. When the storm both here and in the community blow over, we can take rolecall and make sure no one was harmed.
The best friends are made through roleplaying. We all say it. And it's true. Each of you are good people, and have been the best roleplayers I've had the honor to write with. It's truely sad that we need to be separate for a while.
Until the storm ends and springtime comes home, my brothers and sisters, in this world we built together.... stay safe. Be happy.
Stand strong. ))