@pherbear.bsky.social, @seaplaysrpg.bsky.social, @radicalzo.bsky.social, @vynvox.com

Help Hazel out y'all!

Oh noes!

I have the tools to know where to direct my anger, I just have too much of it to be healthy most of the time.

So, ICYMI: My dad passed. I got a little perspective on life. I missed running my game. And I might be using VtM as an allegory for living life?

Cool.

See y'all at 8pm tonight on Twitch!

I run vampire games because it is a game about personal horror and that reminds me of life. Because the everyone has a beast in them. One that doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything but themself. And fighting that beast is hard some days, but that doesn't mean we stop telling it to STFU.

And my PCs can be monsters that have to deal with monsters, but are still working so fucking hard to not lose their humanity. To not fall into despair. To not lose their empathy. To keep giving a shit, even when they don't have to.

I go to therapy, before y'all start asking. But I like living in another world for a lil bit. A world where things still suck (a lot for my lil monsters sometimes), but we can fight back again the bs. Where my NPCs, are complicated people with complicated relationships, but still just wanna find joy

And I'm not trying to burn out on hate.

So, what's this have to do with me storytelling? Or does it have anything to do with it?

Everything.

It's my release valve.

When I was sitting there with my pops and my family, I was thinking of the getting back in my ST seat again. I missed my vamily.

And I'm learning that keeping that hate out and not being angry all the fucking time is the HARDEST THING TO DO. Because the world is fucking with us. All of us. And hate is a helluva fuel. But it's not efficient. It burns bright, hot, and terrifying when it's on. But it'll burn you along the way.

But in that time I was there, I found out a bunch of secrets and half truths that followed him to the grave. And I don't wanna live like that, ya know?

When I get to the end, I want people saying good shit about me. That I was a good man. I treated people right. That I didn't hold hate in my heart.

But regardless of that, he asked to see me on his deathbed, and I figured I could do that for him. And it sucked to watch him die. A lot. I hope I don't go out like that. I'm trying to do better and take care of my health, both mental and physical so I can stick around longer than he did (74 years).

So, I took off to Cleveland and said my final goodbyes. And by Tuesday he was gone. Liver cancer.

Now, I'm not afraid to say this publicly, but me and my pops had a complicated relationship. He ain't talk to me for years because my wife is white. I'd been disowned in my teens for similar reasons.

According to the doctors they were talking about releasing him by Sunday into an assisted care facility. But the Thursday following our show he took a turn for the worse, and on Friday night I got a call saying I needed to come see him off cause he was asking for me.

There are always vods and YouTube!

I'm truly flattered and it is a joy to torture you at my table AND that you keep coming back. Love you homie!