Florida Lotus

Human Fighter (Newest)

Metal Iron Priest (Older)

Unnamed Metal Eldar

I know it isn’t a popular thought, but do people remember what “greenhouse gases” do? A greenhouse traps heat which allows plants to grow, not die. And when there’s too much heat, there are more plants, and what do plants do? Turn CO2 into O2. Earth naturally balances.

I learned once that people had a problem with frogs, so they brought tigers, and all they did was make more problems. If you don’t let a fire burn once in a while, you get forest fires. What I’m saying is, humanity tends to unbalance what was already balanced, by leaning too heavily to the opposite side.

Or maybe I’m just a pyromaniac who doesn’t care about the environment.

It’s a pity our lives are so short; we don’t live long enough to realize human behaviour behaves in cycles. Our perception is faulty, any illusionist knows that. We’re so focused on reaching the horizon we don’t notice that the world is round. The Reign of Terror, the October Revolution… COVID? But this time, it looks like the rich cabal are pulling the strings.

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing me I wasn’t God.

Technology quickens life. Sometimes improved, sometimes endangered, but always quickened. I think we’re reaching the point where technology moves faster than we do.

Then it becomes not whether you can move quick enough, but where you decide to.

I am now an expert on writing small RPGs. That’s how it works, right? You spend some time doing something, and then you decide you’re an expert. And then you learn something new. Anyways, I just wanted to say, and perhaps take a stance, on why rules light rpgs can be as good as, if not better than, more “crunchy” rpgs.

First off: the weight of your book does not determine how good it is. (Although, a heavy book is a good indication. Thank God they printed something NICE!) Just because you have a couple hundred thousand words more doesn’t mean it’s any better. In fact, I prefer shorter entrees, because by God I don’t want to read your massive brick of a manuscript before I can even PLAY your game. Time is worth money, and the more time I spend playing, not reading, the happier I am. Additionally, with a shorter amount of pages to work with, the mechanics must be streamlined to function effectively, and forces writers to focus on the important parts of the game.

However, crunchy games do have their place, and can be useful and effective – appropriately, without the bloat that tends to creep into such works. Also notwithstanding the other possibility of misunderstanding, as with so many rules, it can be easy to misunderstand or forget an important rule or process. But forgetting all that, crunchy games can allow players to craft intricate characters with precision and detail, and can cover many more examples and special cases than a one-page document. A well-made, large-scale game can accurately portray a massive space opera or epic fantasy without losing detail in the same way as smaller documents, and reward players for clever character creation in the way that a short, blunt game never could.

So, it really comes down to what kind of brush you want to use. Smaller games paint in bold strokes, while crunchier games use a smaller, more detailed brush, but both can be masterpieces. I prefer a shorter game, because I can’t keep digesting your massive tomes without issue, but I would be glad to eat my words.

P.S. - I’ve probably forgotten something important. Also, everyone has their own preferences, there is no right or wrong. Ciao!

I feel regret for an era I never entered.

Depression is the zeitgeist, patience my better mentor.

If I said I wasn’t happy I’d be lying,

Because it’s good to be alive,

good to say goodbye,

good to nevermind

the ways that I could die.

Watching the times go by behind glass mime-like,

my silent rhymes grind from a mind on sidelines.

Is it better to be off-kilter or self-centered?

Guess it doesn’t matter, won’t be filtered or self-censored.

Setting up Paypal, and Co.: surprisingly easy. Good things don’t usually come so easy. Stick around and see, I guess.

On the other hand, I am interested in opening an online bookstore soon, so that might be happening. Sorry for keeping y’all in the dark!

It’s been dead awhile, with moving… again. However, your hero returns– with a Buy Me a Coffee account and the ability to Pay What YOU Want! Hooray for slavery to the machine, but all the better if you can help me get off it.

Ciao, Lotus!

When you care about everyone’s opinion, you care about noone’s. Especially your own.

“Smart” phones deserve a warning label.

It’s too easy to start, and too hard to leave. When you’re in the middle, it feels so good, and when it ends, you know it’ll hurt, so you try to avoid the end by indulging the addiction. But the more you indulge, the later it gets, the more it will hurt. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy of pain. You want to feel good so bad that you’re willing to hurt yourself.

Life is a pretty good antidote for digital/distraction addiction.

When you have the wrong kind of paint to touch up a wall, you repaint the wall. Reminds me of a kid who reminds me of Tom Sawyer, goes everywhere shoeless. He said he’s good at reading, so I asked him if he’s read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Guess not.

Her eyes turned a cruel shade, filled with wounded malice. "What makes your pain different from anyone else's? Take a godd*mn look in the mirror, and stop throwing a pity party for yourself. Look outside yourself! There is an entire world out there!"
"Like you're any better! I may live in a world of delusional hypocrites, but at least I see the sh*tshow as it is! You think you can make a change? YOU go see your f *cking world. IT'S BURNING!" He spat, feeling the bile rising to his throat.
"And meanwhile, you get all pissy at me, because I don't attend the same bullsh*t talks that you do, don't share your 'altruistic virtues,' your 'amazing selflessness'. It's a f *cking excuse to validate yourself, make you better than the rest of us, and YOU need to see that!" He picked himself up, pacing across the room furiously.
"So don't you dare call me delusional, when you're the one living in a cloud, and don't expect me to change for your expectations, your virtues, your ideas!" He shouted, spittle flying from his mouth like a rabid dog. 
She stood paralyzed with distressed hair, statuesque and strained in her victimhood, breaking her stuttering silence with a scream.
"Fine! Just sit here and think yourself into a coma for Christ's sake! Why the f*ck did I ever think I could change you? You can gaze down on the world from your ivory tower for all I care until you throw yourself off a cliff! Why did I ever try to help you?"
 Suddenly weary, he sank into the couch, murmuring. "What I need help with, you can't help."
"I don't know what you need help with, Connor. But I can't help you. This, this... relationship isn't working for me. I think I need to go stay somewhere," she said, brushing hair out of her face. Now that the bout of anger was over, she looked wilted. Like a flower.
"Where?" he asked, as she strode towards the door.
"I don't know. Somewhere far away."
"Will you text?"
She turned to stare at him. "I'll think about it."
With that, the door slid quietly shut.
It was a long time before he stopped sobbing.

Chemistry is Algebra for nature. Also, I learned that sound effects are made by people and studios, not on-set. No wonder the sound on our film sucked. Sound is everything!

This isn’t a Klondike Bar; It’s a square. Rectangular, perhaps, but this is second-grade knowledge! If you didn’t know this, I don’t know what to do for you. ;)

The more I stare, the less I see,

The thinking man could never be.

In wonder, content and happy.

(A string of God, I give to thee.)

I’m angry that I’m a coward. I’m angry that you’re winning. I’m angry that I’m a failure. I don’t care what you say, I’m angry that you try to comfort me. Nobody knows me, they can’t mean it, they can’t understand. I know I’m spoiled, and I’m angry, and that makes me more angry. More of a failure.

I’m angry that I let myself get distracted. I’m angry that I enjoy it. I’m angry, because I don’t have time to do the things I like to do, I’m busy being angry and distracting myself. I’m angry, because I still haven’t cleaned up the dog shit on the porch.

I’m angry that you tricked me. I’m angry I believe(d) it. I’m angry I don’t know whether or what I should believe. I’m angry that I let myself not know what to believe.

I’m angry that the world is burning. I’m angry I don’t know what to do. I’m angry that people still try to sell me their world-view. Let me sell you mine. But I’m too polite. And that makes me angry.

I’m angry that I hide it behind a mask. I’m angry I think I have to. I’m angry that I am angry about whether I should hide behind a mask.

But you’ll never see it.

Don’t tell me to “speak” and “make a stand,” when you’re the one who says the election is rigged. You yourselves know that a vote of an celebrity-aristocrat-billionaire is worth more than the vote of a peasant. Stop trying to play with me and shut up. The billionaires happened to favor you this year. Or is it that they don’t exist, and you just make up stories whenever someone you don’t like is in office?

Money is not an enabler. It traps your brain into thinking you need more money to be able to do more, but that’s not true. If you want to do something badly enough, you’ll find a way. The only one stopping you is you. Look in the mirror.

If you need proof to have faith, then you have no faith.

fishers of men.

What the hell?

t.me/ItalyQano…