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// Self Reflections 
// Story: Tuesday 
// by mr_shimmer 
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		You ever wonder why we’re here? It’s one of life’s great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a God watching everything? Why we found a filly, right outside of our front door? Why we haven’t suffered some accident, and ended up on life support, or six feet under? I have, a lot. The answer I found, is there isn’t some God out there with a master plan. And I do mean, capital G God. The answer I’ve found for me, is that there are a bunch of petty, squabbling, immature gods. They influence our reality on a scale we can’t even comprehend, for their own amusement.
You on the other hand, will chalk it up to interdimensional chaos theories. You don’t ask why. You would ask how. It used to be different, we would ask dozens of questions on the subject, and end up with some of the craziest results. WE would ask about the belief of reincarnation, and go to bed thinking it was, and I quote from our past:”Recycling for humans.” What happened to us?
That filly happened. Even if it isn’t her who separated us, we were separated because of her. Not That I really blame her, or her protector. I’m what could be seen as the scarily efficient part of our head. I’m the one who made portaling through Aperture a breeze. I’m the little kid who’s first real video games were strategy games. I’m the one who set acceptable casualties, who learned that it was inefficient to feed your troops if they couldn’t die of starvation. I’m the bad parent.
It makes sense to a degree, to get rid of me. I'm the bad influence, the corrupting force, the evil father. And even if the goal wasn't to keep that filly on the strait and narrow, I'm a liability. If the goal is to keep her weak and hidden, so that she can be obtained at the drop of a hat, then it also makes sense. Keeping her away from someone who would teach her weapon handling as a bonding exercise, or something. The guy who would be ruthless in defending what he saw as his. But would such a filly prosper in such an environment? Would such a social creature handle having such an emotionally detached guy as me, as a single parent?
When life gives us lemons, You make lemonAids, I make lemonGernades. I briefly neogate a supply deal with Life, and plot an offense; You request more, and hand some out. We would’ve made some lemonade, sold it at a profit, and put the money to some short term goal. 
I miss us, and You don’t even remember me. If I ever find the ‘Life’ that did this, well, to quote a fictional man, “Do you know who I am? I’m the man gonna BURN your house down, with the lemons!” If I ever find you, no matter who you are, I will seek vengeance. Side note, I may edit what I require as vengeance, as necessary. In case we end up like in some tacky movie where we fall in love for the (female) who caused us such suffering. I’m not gonna swear some unbreakable oath, and end up forced to do something I don’t want. 

How the he-, ugh, why do I swear so much? My peers always thing I am such a pure guy, when it comes up. Of course I always cuckle, but I never realised how much of a , well, not potty mouth, potty head? That just sounds dumb. But how did I end up here? Well, all things equal, there being at least one capital G, God, or one lower case g, god; having it’s way with me, is possible. But then we end encountering the peripherally atheistic part of me. WIth my loose definition of chaos.
What is chaos? Chaos is unknown, or possible undefined variables creating with both known, and unknown patterns resulting in unpredicted results. All of reality as humans know it, is patterns and ratios. The fibonacci sequence, Pi, and many more yet to be defined by humans. With the existence of unknown patterns, which include unknown variables, we as human beings experience oddities, unexpected events, or as I simplify it: Chaos. Chaos is us just not knowing the entire order of the world, or possibly, worlds. Whether it be interdimensional, or just across the galaxy.
Yeah, I get a bit weird sometimes. Should I blame someone for that? Nah, I’m weird, and that’s it. What was I thinking about to procrastinate trying to playtest this mess of a test chamber? Oh yeah, why am I here, doing this.
I guess it boils down to a case of right/wrong place, right/wrong time. Life threw me a curveball, and now it’s up to me to handle it. It is called a curveball, right? I‘m not really into sports, so that might not be the right term.
Well, what I really have is an adorable filly sized cuddle pillow stuffed full of responsibilities, and no way of really handling them. No home to provide shelter, no food to put in her mouth, no toys to spoil her. Not an item. All I have is an old xbox controller, a borrowed house, and a borrowed xbox with minecraft. Hell, I don’t even know who the local loan shark is to get cash.
I even said a swear word and didn’t correct myself. Is this emotional rock bottom? Are dieing, or dead family members about to start cropping up? I need to do something, that'll make me forget all this. Well, I did just build the most frustrating Portal test chamber I could. That’ll make me nice and angry. Isn't that oxymoronic?



It takes my slow laptop, on average, three minutes, twenty four seconds, to rebuild a test chamber. I make one small edit; move a light less than five feet, and I have to rebuild the test chamber to see how it looks, or works.
I think my plan worked a bit too well. I am now a bit too mad. That coupled with the sever depression I was facing a forty five minutes ago, means I’m suffering mood swings. If that is true, than I cannot really trust myself around Lyra. As if I snap at her, than I would likely not forgive myself. And if I can’t trust myself, than who can I trust?
I feel some pity for you. Apparently more than a bit of the evil, cruel, taskmaster, and devious designer was taken from you. Watching you build that “frustrating test chamber in Portal 2” was almost amusing. If I wasn’t screaming how to do it the right way into you ears the entire time. I might have found it funny as you try to use a skill that got cut from your character sheet. Although watching fumble was amusing, I’m glad you finally got that chamber to our standard.
	As for your crisis of character, been there, done that, accepted fate. Just hurry along so that we’re not doing boring things again.  I’ve surpassed my quota of far thinking, and whatnot, Just go ahead and face your unmentioned fear, and take a nap.