Organization, further graphics

Makefile

@@ -1,5 +1,6 @@
 static/map.svg: static/map.dot
 	dot -Tsvg static/map.dot -ostatic/map.svg
+	dot -Tpng static/map.dot -ostatic/map.png
 
 .PHONY: bonghits
 bonghits:

book/book.tex

@@ -60,6 +60,12 @@
   \input{content/ally/002.tex}
   \input{content/ally/003.tex}
   \input{content/ally/004.tex}
+  \input{content/ally/026.tex}
+  \end{leftcolumn}
+  \end{paracol}
+  \begin{paracol}{2}
+  \begin{leftcolumn}
+  \input{content/ally/027.tex}
   \input{content/ally/005.tex}
   \input{content/ally/006.tex}
   \input{content/ally/007.tex}
@@ -238,16 +244,6 @@
   \end{paracol}
   \begin{paracol}{2}
   \begin{leftcolumn}
-  \input{content/ally/026.tex}
-  \end{leftcolumn}
-  \end{paracol}
-  \begin{paracol}{2}
-  \begin{leftcolumn}
-  \input{content/ally/027.tex}
-  \end{leftcolumn}
-  \end{paracol}
-  \begin{paracol}{2}
-  \begin{leftcolumn}
   \input{content/ally/028.tex}
   \end{leftcolumn}
   \end{paracol}
@@ -263,11 +259,17 @@
   \end{leftcolumn}
   \end{paracol}
 
+  \null
+  \newpage
   \null
   \vfill
-  \begin{center}
-    Endings were writ on your face, your hands, and your steps --- your very pace spoke of completion.
-  \end{center}
+  \begin{verse}
+    Endings were writ on your face,\\
+    \vin your hands,\\
+    \vin \vin and your steps ---
+
+    your very pace spoke of completion.
+  \end{verse}
   \vfill
   \newpage
 

book/content/afterword.tex

@@ -1,3 +1,27 @@
+
+\begin{paracol}{2}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
+  {\allyFont ally} began and still exists as a work of interactive fiction presented on the web. The project now exists in book form out of some neurotic sense of completeness. Perhaps, were I able to hold my life in my hands --- truly hold it, feel the pages sliding against one another --- I would be able to somehow digest it a little bit better. Perhaps, were I able to hold it in my hands, I would be able to understand it. Perhaps I would be able to move on.
+
+  \begin{ally}
+    Is anything so simple?
+  \end{ally}
+  No.
+
+  That said, the project is still available online for your perusal. It works somewhat differently, containing branching paths rather than the tortured layouts of these pages.
+
+  Perhaps the story will continue there.
+
+  \begin{ally}
+    And perhaps not.
+  \end{ally}
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn}
+  \includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/map.png}
+\end{rightcolumn}
+\end{paracol}
+\newpage
+
 \begin{paracol}{2}
 \begin{leftcolumn}
 \includegraphics[width=4in]{assets/cadmiumtea--MurderYourDarlings--makyo--G.jpg}

book/content/ally/001.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-What if I tried to write a memoir?
+\noindent What if I tried to write a memoir?
 
 Like.
 

book/content/ally/002.tex

@@ -2,7 +2,7 @@
 
 \vfill
 
-I'm not ready to share this yet.
+\noindent I'm not ready to share this yet.
 
 \begin{ally}
 But you want to save it?

book/content/ally/005.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-When 2007 rolled around, I turned 21. \emph{What if,} I thought to myself. \emph{What if I decided to see what it feels like to be addicted to something?}
+\noindent When 2007 rolled around, I turned 21. \emph{What if,} I thought to myself. \emph{What if I decided to see what it feels like to be addicted to something?}
 
 By that point, alcohol was this nebulous thing. I'd roped a few people into getting me alcohol now and then, and it was fine. I'd started brewing and it was whatever. I had beer and it was alright. I went through a mead phase--
 

book/content/ally/006.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-When I was young, back before I knew what mental health entailed, what anxiety and abuse and depression really meant, I was convinced I was having semi-regular mental breakdowns. That was the phrase I used then, because I was unsure of what it meant to have a panic attack.
+\noindent When I was young, back before I knew what mental health entailed, what anxiety and abuse and depression really meant, I was convinced I was having semi-regular mental breakdowns. That was the phrase I used then, because I was unsure of what it meant to have a panic attack.
 
 This was before LiveJournal, of course. This was before I was writing on the internet, or even really on the internet at all. This was before you.
 

book/content/ally/007.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-I think of myself as a trans woman, not a woman. I think of past me as male, not female. To an extent, I think of past me as cisgender. I was a guy. I was that gay guy who tumbled out the other side of puberty and was left to figure out what the fuck. I am not who I was.
+\noindent I think of myself as a trans woman, not a woman. I think of past me as male, not female. To an extent, I think of past me as cisgender. I was a guy. I was that gay guy who tumbled out the other side of puberty and was left to figure out what the fuck. I am not who I was.
 
 \begin{ally}
 You have ship-of-Theseus'd yourself into what you are.

book/content/ally/008.tex

@@ -1,6 +1,8 @@
-July 2nd, 2004, shortly after midnight.
-
-\begin{quotation}
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+  \emph{July 2nd, 2004, shortly after midnight}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
 My emotions are gaining distinct colors, like a kind of twisted synaesthesia.  There's definitely a sense of physical location associated with each emotion, and it's not always internal.  There may also be a tactile part to this, but I have yet to experience it in any different places or with any different touches, so it may just be one continuous headache that goes latent occasionally.
 
 An example: when pondering ****, a luminescent fuschia color that seems to be flowing in the right hemisphere of my brain; when thinking of ******* and snuggling, a warm, earthy brown with a little bit of green in a pine-needle-ish pattern about a foot and a half in front of me and slightly to the left; tiredness is off-white everywhere and blind hopelessness is bright blue wrapped around my mind.  The headache moves around, but it's mostly at the lower, back, right side of my head.  Ibuprofin works well.
@@ -8,8 +10,6 @@ An example: when pondering ****, a luminescent fuschia color that seems to be fl
 This isn't what I meant when I was talking about beautiful pain.
 
 Current mood: Bright blue with a tinge of purple, but mostly off white and hazy.
-\end{quotation}
-
 \end{leftcolumn}
 \end{paracol}
 
@@ -17,14 +17,11 @@ Current mood: Bright blue with a tinge of purple, but mostly off white and hazy.
 \newpage
 
 \begin{paracol}{2}
-\begin{leftcolumn}
-  \null
-  \vfill
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
 July 3rd, 2004, shortly after midnight.
-
-\begin{quotation}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
 Greens covering my chest and shoulders warmly are happiness.
-\end{quotation}
 \vfill
 \end{leftcolumn}
 \end{paracol}

book/content/ally/009.tex

@@ -25,6 +25,9 @@ Later.
 I took a sleep aid. I'm not getting into this now. I was all prepped to write about poly stuff, but you started banging on the door.
 
 Read what I've already written. % birds
+\newpage
+
+\input{content/birds.tex}
 
 \begin{ally}
 I was there when you wrote those.

book/content/ally/010.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-The first time I remember thinking about polyamory--
+\noindent The first time I remember thinking about polyamory--
 
 \begin{ally}
 And here I was hoping you'd cave and talk more about mania.

book/content/ally/013.tex

@@ -1,6 +1,6 @@
 \null
 \vfill
-Can we talk about something else? Please?
+\noindent Can we talk about something else? Please?
 
 \begin{ally}
 Something lighter?

book/content/ally/015.tex

@@ -1,5 +1,5 @@
 \null
 \vfill
-And so we find ourselves in a place between.
+\noindent And so we find ourselves in a place between.
 \vfill
 \newpage

book/content/ally/017.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Let's talk about writing.
+\noindent Let's talk about writing.
 
 \begin{ally}
 If you'd like. We still have a few others on the list, don't forget.

book/content/ally/018.tex

@@ -1,14 +1,14 @@
 \begin{ally}
 You are unsettled in your identity.\\
-Boy → enby → girl → trans woman.\\
-Biochemist → musician → programmer → writer.\\
-Gay → bi → ace → pan.\\
-Mono → poly.
+Boy $\rightarrow$ enby $\rightarrow$ girl $\rightarrow$ trans woman.\\
+Biochemist $\rightarrow$ musician $\rightarrow$ programmer $\rightarrow$ writer.\\
+Gay $\rightarrow$ bi $\rightarrow$ ace $\rightarrow$ pan.\\
+Mono $\rightarrow$ poly.
 \end{ally}
 People change.
 
 \begin{ally}
-Healthy → sick → broken → sick → improving.
+Healthy $\rightarrow$ sick $\rightarrow$ broken $\rightarrow$ sick $\rightarrow$ improving.
 \end{ally}
 Like I said, people change.
 

book/content/ally/019.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-The tragic core to all this, to this whole project, is that I am not an interesting person. Or maybe interesting, but unremarkable.
+\noindent The tragic core to all this, to this whole project, is that I am not an interesting person. Or maybe interesting, but unremarkable.
 
 \begin{ally}
 You're in a mood.

book/content/ally/022.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-My turn.
+\noindent My turn.
 
 \begin{ally}
 Shoot.

book/content/ally/023.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Have you gotten that out of your system?
+\noindent Have you gotten that out of your system?
 
 \begin{ally}
 Have you?

book/content/ally/024.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Do you hate me?
+\noindent Do you hate me?
 
 \begin{ally}
 Not my department.

book/content/ally/026.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Apophenia
+\noindent Apophenia
 
 \begin{ally}
 What?

book/content/ally/027.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-I'm sorry this is taking so long.
+\noindent I'm sorry this is taking so long.
 
 \begin{ally}
 To whom are you apologizing?

book/content/birds.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,81 @@
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+  \begin{flushright}
+    \emph{December 29, 2013}
+  \end{flushright}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
+
+First of all, let me state that I'm feeling pretty good as I write this. I feel the need to state such because a lot of my tweets and a lot of my previous entries could be construed as worrisome, and probably legitimately so, because I have the tendency to vent freely. If I feel bad, I write, and if I'm not at a computer, sometimes that ends up on Twitter. It's never my goal to freak anyone out, so much as to simply cope with what's going on. Writing, putting things in words and stringing those words together into some form meaningful to others, is a good way for me to cope with what's happening in my life. That said, although I try to be frank about symptoms, I know that some are disturbing taken at face value or to their logical extremes, so I promise: I'm feeling pretty good now!
+
+I'm torn.
+
+I feel as though one of the most important things in my life is ritual, process, or repetition. It's not so much that these things are comforting in isolation, as that there is a certain feeling of being tethered to reality in them that comforts in its own way.
+
+I've been asked what I mean by reality, or what I mean when I say ``that makes me feel real'' or ``it's important to me that I feel real''. A lot of my response must, by necessity, rely on analogy, by its very surreality - there's no way I can describe how I feel without using metaphors and similes.
+
+In short, it's part of life that we sort of perceive the world around us as a spatial, temporal thing. There are three axes of movement, one axis of time (though sometimes it gets a little twisted up), and that's just sort of how we interface with much of the world. The feeling of surreality, then, is a pulling away on some fifth dimension, a cocooning, a means by which one has or has been made to withdraw from the rest of reality. From the inside, it feels like being wrapped up in cotton. Senses aren't dulled, as that might imply, so much as that all connections through reality, all input must pass through a high-latency barrier that introduces its own artifacts, requires its own decoding. Again, it's not that I can't \emph{hear}, it's that the words that are coming in must be run through an additional filter to associate them first with meanings, and then to tie them back through the perception of reality (the rest of which must, of course, go through its own decoding process).
+
+This surreality is, of course, nothing more than anxiety. I talk often in terms of bandwidth, and that's rather applicable here. If I am spending all of my emotional and intellectual energy on cycling over counterfactual universes that I've constructed in my consciousness, then I have little energy left to deal with the one I'm actually living in. My doctor insists, and I heartily agree, that I not think of this as anything other than anxiety and panic, which I'll get to in a moment.
+
+I said that I'm torn above because the result of this is a desire to get back to reality. The problem is that the anxiety gets in the way quite a bit. I think, ``There must be a way back to clarity and reality, there has to be some sort of path or action I can take.'' That, too, is anxiety, but it's as yet too subtle to recognize as such unless I'm holding still and doing very little else (which is hardly productive).
+
+As a result, a lot of my day-to-day life is spent focusing on the idea of ritual. Ritual is the one thing that my mind has latched onto as some sort of way through or way out, and I think it plays a large role in the events of my past, though I was less conscious of it at the time - such is life, when it comes to any sort of personal advancement. I ritually check the stove to make sure it's off. I check the doors and windows. I get up once a night and check on JD and the two pups to make sure they're inside (just in case Falcon has rappelled out the window and is terrorizing the neighborhood - seriously).
+
+It's not just checking that drives me, though. Anyone who has been to my house knows that it's not cleaning, of course, but, well, it all comes back to the audible aberrations that I'd mentioned before.
+
+For a few months now, I've been `hearing' voices, but I'm always careful to mention that they're not audible hallucinations. They're not. They're what's called expansion: the inner dialog that goes on in our brains as we go about life is usually one that takes place in abstract images. In this case, however, that has broken down into something more simplistic, as though I'm telling myself a story. The voices have character and gender (though they're usually boring), and hover \emph{just} below the level of hearing, something closer to remembering that I had \emph{just heard} someone say something.
+
+It's fantastically hard for me to write about this in any sort of open way. I want to hide it. It's fucking ridiculous. I hate it, and I want it gone, and it's embarrassing. Embarrassment is, however, a primarily social reaction, and a harmful one in this case (after all, this is a health problem). That is, more than I want to hide all of this, I want to tell that embarrassment to get fucked and talk openly and freely about all this, because it's even \emph{more} ridiculous that I feel I can't.
+
+Anyway, as I listened to someone drone on tonight about how I should cut my hair off, how it would hurt in just the right way, how that would be my penance, and that would be just what I needed to gain touch with reality again, I think I finally understood the tie to ritual. This was all I had to do. In fact, this was all these stupid aberrations were ever `urging' me to do. It was this sense of ritual become words. When I feel as though I'm instructed to tease apart my skin like burlap cloth with a knife-point, to solve a cramp or a gas-pain with violence, to kill myself before an upcoming trip to London, that's not just an expansion of some random, totally out there thought, that's the feeling of ritual, the ``there must be something I can do to stop this panic'' sense expanded from an abstract concept back into language.
+
+I've been shifting wildly along the spectrum of following these rituals to the letter to outright ignoring them. As I said, I feel good: I'm not going to kill myself before London or stab myself with a syringe to ease gas-pains. However, I'm still getting up to check on the windows and doors and stove and dogs. In the middle, I've taken to trying to subvert the desire for ritual with other rituals: rather than tease apart my skin like lose-woven cloth with the tip of a knife, I use a pen and just kind of draw on myself. It offers enough catharsis for me to get to the point to realize that it's actually really, really ludicrous; that I'm drawing symbols or lines of the utmost importance on my limbs with a pen pilfered from my bank. That's usually enough to break through the panicked ritual and leave me just feeling silly (which is, while uncomfortable, still a million times better than that inner tension that required the ritual in the first place).
+
+Ritual is a salve. It's an ice cube held against a burn. It's something that provides instant relief, but only so long as it's present. I can't \emph{solve} any of these problems by acting out a ritual. Checking on the dogs does not ultimately leave me satisfied that they're all comfortably asleep, because then I need to make sure the windows and doors are shut to ensure that they don't float away. That done, I need to check the stove to make sure that it's off, because if it's on and the windows are shut, how will we escape when the house burns down?
+
+You see, there's no solution. There's no ritual to make me feel good, or real, or better, or not-anxious. There's only anxiety, and coping, and panic, and sleep. There's reality, and that's where I dwell, and then there's my perception of reality, which drifts rather more than perhaps it ought. Cutting my hair wouldn't hurt - it's hair, for Pete's sake - and it would not be the penance I need, the right amount of pain to bring me back to reality. It's hair! I know that. That's the case I argue to the voice demanding such. That's what makes it panic, and not psychosis: ultimately, there is no break from reality. There's none. I know these aberrations aren't real; I know the dogs aren't going to go carousing out the windows; I know, for sure, that cutting my hair is not going to stop any of this. I know it. The voices are a nuisance, the panic is a problem, but it doesn't control me. There is \emph{no} ritual that will solve anything: the ritual is a symptom. It's important, yes; I live my life by process. But it's a symptom.
+
+That's why I'm torn.
+\newpage
+
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+  \begin{flushright}
+\emph{February 13, 2014}
+\end{flushright}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
+
+\begin{quotation}
+I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt, and perhaps it says, ``Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.''
+
+--- Lewis Carroll
+\end{quotation}
+
+I've mentioned ritual before, but I think that's tied into the larger feeing of portentousness. Ritual is one way to sate that sense of intense meaning surrounding an act or an object.
+
+\begin{quotation}
+A goose is dumb. A thousand geese darkening the horizon is a portent. Mindless honking, individually directionless, collectively unstoppable
+
+--- Makyo (@drab\_makyo) February 12, 2014
+\end{quotation}
+
+Any little thing can carry meaning for one person far outweighing what it might mean to others. Something about flocks of geese terrifies me. It's not a logical fear, it's a sense of foreboding. It's not the geese themselves, it's the concept of geese, the lack of any ritual to solve the problem of geese.
+
+\begin{quotation}
+A goose is tasty. Geese taste like horror. Acrid tang of ill omens \emph{froth}
+
+--- Makyo (@drab\_makyo) February 12, 2014
+\end{quotation}
+
+It's dumb. Geese are dumb. There's no reason I should feel any sort of emotion at all surrounding geese, but I do.
+
+\begin{quotation}
+Why are geese so portentous? Why do they cause anxiety? Did I take my meds this morning?
+
+--- Makyo (@drab\_makyo) February 12, 2014
+\end{quotation}
+
+Ritual is like that. There is some level of meaning that's inexpressible except if you can find a way to come at it from the side. Use words like `portent'. Describe it as an odor, a sense, a mystery. Ritual and sensation are wily and wary critters that want nothing less than to be identified, pointed out, made plain. You're supposed to just go along with the ritual and accept the portentous as fact.
+\newpage

book/content/furry/furry.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-A lot of times, when furries talk, they talk about their fursoñas as their ideal selves. I've found that it's more likely that their fursoñas are them at their most normal, most natural, most earnest.
+\noindent A lot of times, when furries talk, they talk about their fursoñas as their ideal selves. I've found that it's more likely that their fursoñas are them at their most normal, most natural, most earnest.
 
 It's strange that this venue seen as escapist by even its own members is basically just a means of exploring what it means to be earnest in an ironic world.
 
@@ -22,7 +22,7 @@ A friend asks Maddy: what is irony?
 \begin{leftcolumn}
 \newpage
 
-I talk up my style as frumpcore. \emph{It's the synthesis of momcore and downtempo librarian,} I say. In reality, It's an intentionally garbage-y, thrown-together look designed to, I hope, lead onlookers' eyes to slide right off of me as unremarkable.
+\noindent I talk up my style as frumpcore. \emph{It's the synthesis of momcore and downtempo librarian,} I say. In reality, It's an intentionally garbage-y, thrown-together look designed to, I hope, lead onlookers' eyes to slide right off of me as unremarkable.
 
 \begin{ally}
 Ah yes, the invisible six-foot-one trans woman with purple hair. That tired old trope.
@@ -86,7 +86,7 @@ Let's talk about kink.
 Oh for Christ's sake.
 \newpage
 
-When I hit puberty, I wound up doing a good bit of digging to try and figure out just what it was that was going on. I mean, obviously, there was sex ed and stuff, but it's not like that's super comprehensive in the states.
+\noindent When I hit puberty, I wound up doing a good bit of digging to try and figure out just what it was that was going on. I mean, obviously, there was sex ed and stuff, but it's not like that's super comprehensive in the states.
 
 \begin{ally}
 In fifth grade, the teachers gathered the four classes together in one spot to show a video and give a short lecture on sex. That was the extent of it, before and at the beginning of puberty.
@@ -138,15 +138,13 @@ You learned about typefucking
 \end{ally}
 Boy howdy did I.
 
-% \href{/ts-graph.png}{\includegraphics{/ts-graph.png}}
-
 \begin{ally}
 You are a parody of yourself.
 \end{ally}
 And proud of it.
 \newpage
 
-So, I think the order of my entry to furry was as follows:
+\noindent So, I think the order of my entry to furry was as follows:
 
 \begin{enumerate}
 \def\labelenumi{\arabic{enumi}.}
@@ -227,7 +225,7 @@ Take your time.
 \end{ally}
 \newpage
 
-The first furry I met, aside from Ash, was Osric. We went to see a movie. We were so painfully shy.
+\noindent The first furry I met, aside from Ash, was Osric. We went to see a movie. We were so painfully shy.
 
 \begin{ally}
 After seeing the movie, you drove him back to where he had parked, and you sat for a few moments in pained silence, then hugged and went your separate ways.
@@ -285,7 +283,7 @@ This, too, is meaningless.
 Well played.
 \newpage
 
-A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.
+\noindent A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.
 
 My interest in furry wound down a bit in university. I'd burned myself a bit too hard, hurt too many people, grew too jaded to take part. I still prowled around the usual haunts on the MUCKs, still poked my head in FFF, still looked at all the art, \href{https://adjectivespecies.com/2012/03/21/makyos-kaddish/}{but my heart wasn't in it anymore}.
 

book/content/furry/margaras.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Matthew didn't end when I changed my name. Matthew ended September 14th, 2012.
+\noindent Matthew didn't end when I changed my name. Matthew ended September 14th, 2012.
 
 \begin{ally}
 He died on the 6th. He just didn't know he was dead yet.

book/content/furry/younes.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Back in 2011 and 2012, I started to really loathe being me.
+\noindent Back in 2011 and 2012, I started to really loathe being me.
 
 \begin{ally}
 `Started'?

book/content/poly.tex

@@ -27,7 +27,7 @@ You may be made of star-stuff, but conflict seems to be what holds you together.
 \end{ally}
 Stop trying to get me to talk about mania.
 
-At first, I was proud of my relationships. Then I was embarrassed. There were so many, all in a line. One would trickle into existence with, as I put it, \texttt{light,\ in\ through\ the\ head,\ out\ through\ the\ heart}. We'd be perfect, until we weren't. Everything would be delightful, until it wasn't. It's the way of early relationships, I suppose. You fall for someone, and you can't quite pick apart the difference between love and lust.
+At first, I was proud of my relationships. Then I was embarrassed. There were so many, all in a line. One would trickle into existence with, as I put it, \emph{light, in through the head, out through the heart}. We'd be perfect, until we weren't. Everything would be delightful, until it wasn't. It's the way of early relationships, I suppose. You fall for someone, and you can't quite pick apart the difference between love and lust.
 
 I just went through so many that I started feeling a bit weird about it. How do I talk about the Danny-Marek-Merlin-Andrew-Michael-Andy-Rikky-Kayla-Tyson-Andrew(again) progression? And how do I talk about Lon? Or what JD and I were at the beginning?
 
@@ -44,7 +44,7 @@ Some bits weren't so easy, though. The overlap between the discussion that's inv
 Are you going to provide us with a Venn Diagram? In hand-coded SVG, perhaps?
 \end{ally}
 
-\includegraphics[width=4.5in]{assets/static/healthy-sound.png}
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=4.25in]{assets/static/healthy-sound.png}
 
 Happy?
 

book/content/self-harm/self-harm.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Self harm is a recurring theme within my life.
+\noindent Self harm is a recurring theme within my life.
 
 It takes so many forms, too. The cutting and burning, sure, but also the self-sabotage. Dropping my testosterone to zero. If approaching this in a sexual fashion was wrong, then remove the sexuality.
 

book/content/self-harm/suicide.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-On March 21st, 2012, I tried to kill myself.
+\noindent On March 21st, 2012, I tried to kill myself.
 
 It's amazing how such a simple statement of fact reflects, months of strange tension, slow recovery, and a whole lot of trying to understand what really happened. It's not a comfortable thing for anyone to discuss, but it's one of those things I need to discuss, need to get off my chest. A little too much of what makes life meaningful for me now is wrapped up in that one night.
 

book/content/sex/kink.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-What do you do when you've got a libido and relatively little will to act upon it?
+\noindent What do you do when you've got a libido and relatively little will to act upon it?
 
 Delve into kink.
 

book/content/sex/sex.tex

@@ -1,5 +1,8 @@
-Cathleen Schine writes in \emph{The Evolution of Jane}:
+\noindent Cathleen Schine writes in \emph{The Evolution of Jane}:
 
+\begin{quotation}
+  I resented the state of childhood wonder.  It was insatiable, yet it seemed to me to be no more than a puerile affliction, like baby teeth.  My ignorance struck me as a bizarre anomaly, for I felt, with utter certainty, that I was --- how can I say this? --- that I was *sufficient*.  Evidence to the contrary forced itself on me every hour of every day, but that seemed to me some preposterous misunderstanding.
+\end{quotation}
 And while I don't necessarily have fond memories of childhood--
 
 \begin{ally}
@@ -143,8 +146,6 @@ So, let's talk about kink.
 \input{content/sex/rape.tex}
 \end{rightcolumn*}
 \begin{leftcolumn}
-\newpage
-
 I can't let this go.
 
 \begin{ally}

book/content/writing/music.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,11 @@
-I did not fall into music of my own accord, my dad bought me a saxophone.
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/1-1.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/1-2.png}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
+  \noindent I did not fall into music of my own accord, my dad bought me a saxophone.
 
 \begin{ally}
 As his dad bought him before you.
@@ -48,6 +55,13 @@ I can't just say ``computers'' and beg off, here, can I?
 Nope.
 \end{ally}
 \newpage
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/2-1.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/2-2.png}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
 
 Okay, you're right. It's not quite true that I left because of computers. I stopped playing the oboe after I ran away and moved schools. Band was already well underway, after all, and I couldn't join in partway through. They let me play the cymbal in one concert, but I basically gave up after that. We returned the rental oboe. I wouldn't touch an instrument in all seriousness until well into university.
 
@@ -77,6 +91,23 @@ And you said yes.
 \end{ally}
 Lord help me, I have no idea why, but I did.
 \newpage
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/3-1.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/4-1.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/4-2.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/4-3.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/4-4.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/5-1.png}
+
+\noindent\includegraphics[width=2in]{assets/static/miniatures/5-2.png}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
 
 When you're a choir kid, you're a choir kid.
 

book/content/writing/software.tex

@@ -1,11 +1,13 @@
-This chapter of ally takes place in the git commit messages, but here are their contents for completion's sake.
+\noindent This chapter of ally was written in the git commit messages of this project, but here are their contents for completion's sake.
 
 \begin{ally}
 I'm ashamed to know you.
 \end{ally}
 It's a stretch even for me, but hey, here we go.
 
-\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{\linethickness}\end{center}
+\begin{center}
+\rule{1in}{0.1pt}
+\end{center}
 
 \begin{ally}
 Are you having fun with this?
@@ -44,7 +46,7 @@ As many gifts bounced off of me as those that stuck and proved useful.
 Either way, start a kid on VisualBasic and give her access to AngelFire, and you're bound to wound up with at least \emph{some} kind of nerd.
 \newpage
 
-Matthew was pretty keen on Perl at the start. Something about all the delicious punctuation, all the built-in obfuscation was appealing. Something about how you could write an incantastion that was difficult to read unless you had the proper knowledge tickled him.
+\noindent Matthew was pretty keen on Perl at the start. Something about all the delicious punctuation, all the built-in obfuscation was appealing. Something about how you could write an incantastion that was difficult to read unless you had the proper knowledge tickled him.
 
 \begin{ally}
 He wasn't very good at it.
@@ -61,7 +63,7 @@ Perl filled high school. Dumb scripts to walk a directory (despite a module alre
 \begin{ally}
 Was it that bad?
 \end{ally}
-\href{https://web.archive.org/web/20050202100148/http://ranna.babylonia.flatirons.org/}{RF!P}? Oh yes.
+Oh yes.
 
 \begin{ally}
 At least you can see the dull adherence to monochromatic web design started early on.
@@ -83,7 +85,7 @@ No motivation.
 Or maybe only the false motivation that comes along with hypomania.
 \newpage
 
-At some point in late 2005, I got my first job in computers--
+\noindent At some point in late 2005, I got my first job in computers--
 
 \begin{ally}
 Well, hold on. What about that summer job at Rational?
@@ -116,7 +118,7 @@ And then you never got a summer job again until university. You kept looking, bu
 And every summer, I disappointed my mom further.
 \newpage
 
-Well, then I suppose my second job in computers was in late 2005, when I got that job at the library. That was far more comfortable.
+\noindent Well, then I suppose my second job in computers was in late 2005, when I got that job at the library. That was far more comfortable.
 
 \begin{ally}
 Or you were far more mature, perhaps.
@@ -138,7 +140,7 @@ Whether or not it was something you might actually enjoy.
 Yes.
 \newpage
 
-At least I enjoyed it at first.
+\noindent At least I enjoyed it at first.
 
 \begin{ally}
 You did, yes. You worked ten, twelve hours a day.
@@ -165,7 +167,7 @@ If you say so.
 \end{ally}
 \newpage
 
-I enjoyed it until I didn't. It turned into a grind, it turned depressing. I started getting angry. I tried to commit suicide --- we'll get to that later, just to preempt you distracting me.
+\noindent I enjoyed it until I didn't. It turned into a grind, it turned depressing. I started getting angry. I tried to commit suicide --- we'll get to that later, just to preempt you distracting me.
 
 \begin{ally}
 You know me too well.

book/content/writing/writing.tex

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-Today, my therapist asked what the plot was to this new writing project.
+\noindent Today, my therapist asked what the plot was to this new writing project.
 
 \begin{ally}
 Me!
@@ -64,9 +64,10 @@ Writing, composing, programming, those are all inexact tools to apply toward ine
 
 \begin{ally}
 No, but it \textbf{is} important that you be cognizant of that fact.
-\end{ally}\newpage
+\end{ally}
+\newpage
 
-All of writing, all of creativity is selfish. To take some idea or some concept and to set it down on paper and say, ``I made this'' is selfish, of course, but to then take that thing and show it to others with the expectation that they might get something out of it as well is taking that several steps further.
+\noindent All of writing, all of creativity is selfish. To take some idea or some concept and to set it down on paper and say, ``I made this'' is selfish, of course, but to then take that thing and show it to others with the expectation that they might get something out of it as well is taking that several steps further.
 
 To sit down in front of the keyboard and to say, ``I am going to write a story about a person who runs away from home to escape her fundamentally unhappy life'' and to then take that story, post it on the internet, submit it to anthologies, publish it in a collection and attempt to get others to read it, is selfish. It's an act of improvement for the writer, sometimes on a very real basis, if there is money to be made in the process.
 
@@ -110,7 +111,7 @@ Of course. Are you really in danger of such?
 Constantly, feels like.
 \newpage
 
-The first poetry I remember writing was back before high school. At some point I picked up the poetry bug and decided I was going to try my hand at it. Finding it hard, I quit after the first poem I wrote. It was something really, \emph{really} bad, too. Something where all I knew about poetry was that it should rhyme, so I sacrificed\ldots{}well, everything in search of a rhyme. Readability. Sense. It was horrifying.
+\noindent The first poetry I remember writing was back before high school. At some point I picked up the poetry bug and decided I was going to try my hand at it. Finding it hard, I quit after the first poem I wrote. It was something really, \emph{really} bad, too. Something where all I knew about poetry was that it should rhyme, so I sacrificed\ldots{}well, everything in search of a rhyme. Readability. Sense. It was horrifying.
 
 \begin{ally}
 You find a lot of your old stuff horrifying. Play can be creative.
@@ -152,54 +153,126 @@ Gah, yeah. I was a kid, alright?
 \begin{ally}
 If you say so.
 \end{ally}
-September 26, 2003:
+\end{leftcolumn}
+\begin{rightcolumn*}
+\emph{September 26, 2003}
+\end{rightcolumn*}
+\begin{leftcolumn}
+\textbf{I.}
+\begin{verse}
+  Borne through air,\\
+\vin   Close my eyes.\\
+  Wind ruffles hair\\
+\vin   Soul sighs,\\
+\vin   Heart flies;\\
+  I’m the wind.
 
-\begin{enumerate}
-\def\labelenumi{\Roman{enumi}.}
-\tightlist
-\item
-  Borne through air, Close my eyes. Wind ruffles hair Soul sighs, Heart flies; I'm the wind.
-\end{enumerate}
+  I flow east:\\
+\vin   Over the plains,\\
+  Over land creased.\\
+\vin   Current refrains,\\
+\vin   Cloud stains\\
+  As I build.
 
-I flow east: Over the plains, Over land creased. Current refrains, Cloud stains As I build.
+  Trees bow at my\\
+\vin \vin Will\\
+  To move drives me\\
+\vin \vin Onward\\
+  I push through\\
+\vin \vin Mountains\\
+  Do nothing but\\
+\vin \vin Divert\\
+  The rain as I\\
+\vin \vin Flow.\\
+\end{verse}
+\newpage
 
-Trees bow at my Will To move drives me Onward I push through Mountains Do nothing but Divert The rain as I Flow.
+\textbf{II.}
+\begin{verse}
+  Borne through air ---\\
+  \vin Rise up high ---\\
+  Driven there,\\
+  \vin Earth nigh,\\
+  \vin I sigh;\\
+  I'm the wind.
 
-\begin{enumerate}
-\def\labelenumi{\Roman{enumi}.}
-\setcounter{enumi}{1}
-\tightlist
-\item
-  Borne through air - Rise up high - Driven there, Earth nigh, I sigh; I'm the wind.
-\end{enumerate}
+  I flow west:\\
+  \vin Past the lakes,\\
+  Water my guest;\\
+  \vin Thunder makes\\
+  \vin Noise, wakes,\\
+  As I storm.
 
-I flow west: Past the lakes, Water my guest; Thunder makes Noise, wakes, As I storm.
+  Sand flies at my\\
+  \vin \vin Force\\
+  Builds as I\\
+  \vin \vin Push\\
+  Across the\\
+  \vin \vin Land\\
+  Flows beneath my\\
+  \vin \vin Self\\
+  Means nothing to\\
+  \vin \vin Wind.
+\end{verse}
+\newpage
 
-Sand flies at my Force Builds as I Push Across the Land Flows beneath my Self Means nothing to Wind.
+\textbf{III.}
+\begin{verse}
+  Borne through air,\\
+  \vin Through the night\\
+  And dawn fair.\\
+  \vin No fight,\\
+  \vin Only flight;\\
+  I'm the wind.
 
-\begin{enumerate}
-\def\labelenumi{\Roman{enumi}.}
-\setcounter{enumi}{2}
-\tightlist
-\item
-  Borne through air, Through the night And dawn fair. No fight, Only flight; I'm the wind.
-\end{enumerate}
+  I flow south\\
+  \vin On the ocean,\\
+  On delta's mouth\\
+  \vin My motion\\
+  \vin Just notion\\
+  As I breathe.
 
-I flow south On the ocean, On delta's mouth My motion Just notion As I breathe.
+  Waves break as I\\
+  \vin \vin Drive\\
+  Past the thin\\
+  \vin \vin Sands\\
+  Lift themselves to my\\
+  \vin \vin Body\\
+  Waxes as I\\
+  \vin \vin Press\\
+  Through the stillness of\\
+  \vin \vin Night.
+\end{verse}
+\newpage
 
-Waves break as I Drive Past the thin Sands Lift themselves to my Body Waxes as I Press Through the stillness of Night.
+\textbf{IV.}
+\begin{verse}
+  Borne through air,\\
+  \vin Around the world\\
+  And forests I tear;\\
+  \vin Ferns furled,\\
+  \vin Trees burled;\\
+  I am the wind.
 
-\begin{enumerate}
-\def\labelenumi{\Roman{enumi}.}
-\setcounter{enumi}{3}
-\tightlist
-\item
-  Borne through air, Around the world And forests I tear; Ferns furled, Trees burled; I am the wind.
-\end{enumerate}
+  I flow north,\\
+  \vin Across the ice;\\
+  I roll forth\\
+  \vin Past spice ---\\
+  \vin So nice ---\\
+  As I change.
 
-I flow north, Across the ice; I roll forth Past spice -- So nice -- As I change.
-
-Men bask as I Warm Drops of rain Fall Colored leaves Shiver Because of the Chill Wind blows on Past.
+  Men bask as I\\
+  \vin \vin Warm\\
+  Drops of rain\\
+  \vin \vin Fall\\
+  Colored leaves\\
+  \vin \vin Shiver\\
+  Because of the\\
+  \vin \vin Chill\\
+  Wind blows on\\
+  \vin \vin Past.
+\end{verse}
+\newpage
 
 \begin{ally}
 It's not without its own sense of charm.
@@ -220,26 +293,120 @@ The more I think of it, the more I think it's that they're just too\ldots{}work.
 Wrong answer.
 \end{ally}
 Tell me about it.
+\newpage
 
-January 11, 2003:
 
-What hath man wrought! When faced with the question of love Or seeking peace with the answer thereof, Or faced with life peril-fraught, Created a god, or several, to satisfy Some need to fulfill or deny A lacking - A slacking On someone else's behalf, Or his own behalf - And on the world a question of faith brought.
+\emph{January 11, 2003}
 
-And when a man, endowed With the ability to make his own God, Does so with nary a nod, And finds the god shan't be cowed, What does he then? And when a group of men Make their God With nary a nod, And cow him easily, rightly To them, and find him tightly bound, what then, with a god bowed?
+\begin{verse}
+What hath man wrought!\\
+\vin When faced with the question of love\\
+\vin Or seeking peace with the answer thereof,\\
+Or faced with life peril-fraught,\\
+\vin Created a god, or several, to satisfy\\
+\vin Some need to fulfill or deny\\
+\vin \vin A lacking ---\\
+\vin \vin A slacking\\
+\vin On someone else's behalf,\\
+\vin Or his own behalf ---\\
+And on the world a question of faith brought.
 
-What then, indeed, should a God, Now lesser than his creators, do When his creators move to gods new? Is he then still a God? Or is that when God dies, Not bloated with swarms of flies, But forgotten? Not rotten, Forgotten and immortal, what then? Does he hope to come again, Rising a second time, perhaps again to be God?
+And when a man, endowed\\
+\vin With the ability to make his own God,\\
+\vin Does so with nary a nod,\\
+And finds the god shan't be cowed,\\
+\vin What does he then?\\
+\vin And when a group of men\\
+\vin \vin Make their God\\
+\vin \vin With nary a nod,\\
+\vin And cow him easily, rightly\\
+\vin To them, and find him tightly\\
+bound, what then, with a god bowed?
 
-One would hope that the God, being omniscient Would realize he was no longer, otherwise Might he become destructive? Likewise, A god, waiting patient Could become restless, Try to leave his creators breathless, Again, But then, Be pronounced a heretic By all but the hermetic And others of the new God ignorant.
+What then, indeed, should a God,\\
+\vin Now lesser than his creators, do\\
+\vin When his creators move to gods new?\\
+Is he then still a God?\\
+\vin Or is that when God dies,\\
+\vin Not bloated with swarms of flies,\\
+\vin \vin But forgotten?\\
+\vin \vin Not rotten,\\
+\vin Forgotten and immortal, what then?\\
+\vin Does he hope to come again,\\
+Rising a second time, perhaps again to be God?
 
-So hence a people divided Those of Whispers and those of Nanon, Fight to the tooth and fight to the bone, Until over Whispers Nanon presided; And when those of Nanon took Speech from the Whispers so as to look And not hear, They here Those of Whispers with Supposed powers of myth Of creation with speech's remnants provided.
+One would hope that the God, being omniscient\\
+\vin Would realize he was no longer, otherwise\\
+\vin Might he become destructive? Likewise,\\
+A god, waiting patient\\
+\vin Could become restless,\\
+\vin Try to leave his creators breathless,\\
+\vin \vin Again,\\
+\vin \vin But then,\\
+\vin Be pronounced a heretic\\
+\vin By all but the hermetic\\
+And others of the new God ignorant.
 
-So it was before the fall of Whispers that Faith of most all lay in technology, Remnants of religion lay in astrology And superstitious fears like the black cat. Only after the fall did the faiths Of only the Whisperers turn to mysterious wraiths And gods, But the odds That one of the gods was taken more seriously Than the rest was small, and not mysteriously, The small bit of Faith quickly passed as society's scat
+So hence a people divided\\
+\vin Those of Whispers and those of Nanon,\\
+\vin Fight to the tooth and fight to the bone,\\
+Until over Whispers Nanon presided;\\
+\vin And when those of Nanon took\\
+\vin Speech from the Whispers so as to look\\
+\vin \vin And not hear,\\
+\vin \vin They here\\
+\vin Those of Whispers with\\
+\vin Supposed powers of myth\\
+Of creation with speech's remnants provided.
 
-Now, it's come that those of Nanon have all but forgotten Those of Whispers except perhaps in myth Maybe portrayed as consorting with Black cats or something equally rotten. But for the Whisperers, the city Of Nanon is very real, also denial of pity Of sunlight, For sunlight Is blocked by the city directly overhead And the Whisperers know of only shadow instead; Only death out from beneath the city to be gotten.
+So it was before the fall of Whispers that\\
+\vin Faith of most all lay in technology,\\
+\vin Remnants of religion lay in astrology\\
+And superstitious fears like the black cat.\\
+\vin Only after the fall did the faiths\\
+\vin Of only the Whisperers turn to mysterious wraiths\\
+\vin \vin And gods,\\
+\vin \vin But the odds\\
+\vin That one of the gods was taken more seriously\\
+\vin Than the rest was small, and not mysteriously,\\
+The small bit of Faith quickly passed as society's scat
 
-The magic that's spoken of those Of the Whispers, is often made Out to be more, but because of their stayed Speech, only whispers remain in quite prose. So through the long stretches of time, The Whisperers, through long stretches of rhyme Can make - Only make - What they wish, with words divine, Benign, or malign, And in their creations complete trust repose.
+Now, it's come that those of Nanon have all but forgotten\\
+\vin Those of Whispers except perhaps in myth\\
+\vin Maybe portrayed as consorting with\\
+Black cats or something equally rotten.\\
+\vin But for the Whisperers, the city\\
+\vin Of Nanon is very real, also denial of pity\\
+\vin \vin Of sunlight,\\
+\vin \vin For sunlight\\
+\vin Is blocked by the city directly overhead\\
+\vin And the Whisperers know of only shadow instead;\\
+Only death out from beneath the city to be gotten.\\
 
-So begins a story, often told but never yet writ Of a divided people still the same And the rise and fall of a god played like a game. While not true itself, it is truth lit: As men continue to create and live under gods, What would happen if the gods, at odds, Warred and fell, Raising hell In the process? What would happen In a society misshapen If a wrathful god fell and no one cared a whit?
+The magic that's spoken of those\\
+\vin Of the Whispers, is often made\\
+\vin Out to be more, but because of their stayed\\
+Speech, only whispers remain in quite prose.\\
+\vin So through the long stretches of time,\\
+\vin The Whisperers, through long stretches of rhyme\\
+\vin \vin Can make ---\\
+\vin \vin Only make ---\\
+\vin What they wish, with words divine,\\
+\vin Benign, or malign,\\
+And in their creations complete trust repose.
+
+So begins a story, often told but never yet writ\\
+\vin Of a divided people still the same\\
+\vin And the rise and fall of a god played like a game.\\
+While not true itself, it is truth lit:\\
+\vin As men continue to create and live under gods,\\
+\vin What would happen if the gods, at odds,\\
+\vin \vin Warred and fell,\\
+\vin \vin Raising hell\\
+\vin In the process? What would happen\\
+\vin In a society misshapen\\
+If a wrathful god fell and no one cared a whit?
+\end{verse}
 
 \begin{ally}
 Ah yes, your Keats phase.
@@ -283,7 +450,7 @@ I wrote a few essays I was reasonably proud of, but it took another four years b
 \begin{ally}
 Ah yes, your ``boy meets girl with a twist'' story.
 \end{ally}
-Yeah, \href{https://writing.drab-makyo.com/fiction/consequences-of-dissonance/}{\emph{The Consequences of Dissonance}}.
+Yeah, \emph{The Consequences of Dissonance}.
 
 \begin{ally}
 You originally named it \textbf{Coming to Terms with Being a Terrible Person}.
@@ -394,8 +561,6 @@ I suppose so.
 Good luck, kid.
 \end{ally}\newpage
 
-Autoplaying music
-
 \begin{ally}
 If this is about creativity, then tell me about composing.
 \end{ally}

book/includes/_geometry-trade.tex

@@ -6,7 +6,7 @@
   layoutheight=8.5in,
   vmargin=0.5in,
   outer=0.5in,
-  inner=0.75in,
+  inner=1in,
   includeheadfoot,
   twoside,
   showcrop

book/includes/packages.tex

@@ -19,3 +19,4 @@
 \usepackage{verse}
 \usepackage{paracol}
 \usepackage{pdfpages}
+\usepackage{xcolor}

book/includes/secdiv.tex

@@ -1,8 +1,8 @@
 %%% Section divider
 % don't forget to \noindent the line after!
-\renewcommand\rule[2]{$\star$}
-\newcommand\secdiv{
-  \begin{center}
-    \rule{}{}
-  \end{center}
-}
+% \renewcommand\rule[2]{$\star$}
+% \newcommand\secdiv{
+%   \begin{center}
+%     \rule{}{}
+%   \end{center}
+% }

book/includes/variables.tex

@@ -9,11 +9,11 @@
 \def\EditionsList{10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1}
 \def\Year{2017}
 
-\def\ISBN{XXX-X-XXXXXX-XX-X}
+\def\ISBN{978-1-948743-15-0}
 
 \newenvironment{ally}{
 \noindent\ignorespaces
 \begin{quotation}
     \allyFont\itshape
-    \noindent}{
+    \noindent\ignorespaces}{
 \end{quotation}\ignorespacesafterend }