According to the folks playing the AD&D game (second edition, but fuck them shitty '95 rulebooks, which we're stuck with because the OG versions have apparently disintegrated to the point of unavailability) I'm in the midst of running, I'm a decent Dungeon Master. This is gratifying to no end, not only because I seem to have retained my knack for making up shit on the fly, but because for the first time in years I have a killer gaming group. On top of that, the game is set in a world I've created and continue to create, which is something I've never done. Good shit, good shit. These things are what makes role-playing what it is.
I should be in bed now. I have class tomorrow, and believe you me that Chinese is a harsh mistress. Yet here I am, chuckling to myself about the stupidest of things, the awesomest of things, the things that don't look or sound like dharma but are, because everything is dharma, even exhausted late nights and heavy metal and AD&D and sleeping girlfriends and daydreams about suburbia. Even if every bad decision has its stupid-ass rationalization.
Just being human, dude. Just being. Human.
