Reply to: Anyone here suffer from claustrophobia?

[nomadd]

/Poetry Alert
*****
Morning Comes
*****

If there's one thing I admire in a man... It's the ability to stay on topic.

Nomadd

[Board Game Geek]

Sysman wrote : I know what you mean there, but conversely I like to wake up with the sun coming into the room.

/Poetry Alert

*****
Morning Comes
*****


Morning comes,

Her sweet fingers of light caressing my cheeks as I lay asleep,
Dreaming of my Love.

And then I stir,
Bleary-eyed from my dream of Heaven,
And my world comes crashing down me,
As her soft, warm gentle fingers are but figments of my mind.

***

Morning comes,

This time I wake to greet her touch of light upon my soul.

And rest we both contented there,
Heaven found at last.

****

/End of Poetry Alert

This poem was written some 22 years ago, one morning when I woke from a vivid, beautiful dream.

I imagined that my long-distance girlfriend who I only saw once a year was cuddled up in my arms and gently caressing my cheeks as the morning arose.

When I woke up, I discovered that it was just a dream.

The feeling of her fingers upon my face was the sun’s rays, streaming in though a gap I had forgotten to close in the curtains. You can imagine I felt sad and somewhat down heartened.

I wrote the poem, and then paused whilst I reflected that one day, we would be together permanently, and that this was just a situation I had to endure.

The second half of the poem came to me in a revelation that although today may be difficult and lonely, there was hope sometime in the future, and that my reward for enduring would not be just be a caress upon the cheek, but something much deeper and more fulfilling.

Sadly, she never got to read the poem, as we parted some months after.

Whilst she was my first love…she was not my best love, as my 19-year relationship with my wife now testifies.

I dedicate this poem to my first love, wherever she may be, for she taught me to recognise true love later in my life.

[minestrone]

I went down some old war tunnels in Vietnam, the Gf was behind me with the camera and we have about 10 pictures of my fat arse now.

[Sysman]

I've always been like this. I grew up in the country and used to use hay bales to make large dens with lots of little passages and switchbacks. Even as a child, I had to argue with my parents to get completely opaque curtains for my bedroom, because I detested the merest hint of light.

I find the dark comforting in a deeply primal way.

I know what you mean there, but conversely I like to wake up with the sun coming into the room.

The next best thing is complete silence. Utter silence. It's great and I can think better when there is little to no noise around me.

I'm close to a town centre so complete silence is rare, but that's what the surrounding hills are for.

[centurian]

Or the work of the devil.

Shouldn't he have been weightless if the lift is free falling, or at least experiencing reduced gravity

After all, what we feel as gravity is merely the ground/chair/bed/sofa pushing back against us. The space station is constantly falling towards the Earth - just constantly missing because of lateral motion.

Cut - Time for a geek check

[Sysman]

Are lift doors hard to prise apart?

It depends on the lift. With the smallish one in my last apartment I did manage. It wasn't easy and I was doing regular weight training then.

[Sysman]

Perhaps. I have never never felt claustrophobic in a lift. If it got jammed I'd use the little trapdoor in the roof of the lift, 'Man From Uncle' style - oh wait - lifts don't actually have those little trapdoors in the roof in real life...

I've been stuck in a couple of lifts and didn't feel claustrophobic either time. Ikea on a hot stuffy day when I couldn't find my way out was a different matter.

[Sysman]

Funny you should say that (not the vat of acid bit) but I have been a climber for many years, and I have quite a healthy fear of heights.

I think the difference is that when you're 'outside' (on a rockface, say) then you are in control. You have a grip on the rock, roped if necessary - it's in your control. If you fall off it's your own fault.

I'd rather fall a thousand feet to my death than be held fast in some dank underground (and possibly be drown, to add to the fun) in some awful underground tunnel.

I did a bit of rock climbing in younger days, and also couldn't cope with the idea of potholing. There was one guy who was an excellent climbing leader who I would have trusted to take me down a pothole, but at that time I wasn't as fit as I'd have liked, so declined.

[Board Game Geek]

Norrahe posted : Are you still larping?

Nah, not in a regular sense anymore. The last time we did LARP'ing was at Gencon 2000 in Manchester. Original post here.

We stick to pen and paper or online these days, and play weekly or so.

[norrahe]

Now that was frightening, honest !

There was a Dark Elf Assassin picking off our group one by one, until it was just me (Fighter) and the Cleric left.

Luckily, the Cleric managed to get a Slow spell off, and I charged in with "Quad, Quad, Quad" quite a few times, until the DM said "Er..he's dead now".

Such happy times...

Dear god, a larper

and you willingly admit to this in public?

Are you still larping?

[Board Game Geek]

TinTrump posted : Chistlehurst caves

Now that was frightening, honest !

There was a Dark Elf Assassin picking off our group one by one, until it was just me (Fighter) and the Cleric left.

Luckily, the Cleric managed to get a Slow spell off, and I charged in with "Quad, Quad, Quad" quite a few times, until the DM said "Er..he's dead now".

Such happy times...

[TinTrump]

The only time I got a bit nervous caving was in Stoke Lane Slocker floating on my back through the large flooded chamber leading to Sump 1 - in several feet of water, as I recall, with about an inch of air at the top and my nose scraping along the rough ceiling and almost pitch dark.

You and BGG are both nutters! The closest I've got to such activities is strolling through Chistlehurst caves. Which isn't very close at all.

[Board Game Geek]

Halo and I did 4 hours extreme caving in NZ several years ago, around the Waitomo caves area.

There was the "tourist" route, in which you sit in a boat and gently glide through the caves.

We chose the "insane nutter" route, of which 4 hours was spent in almost complete darkness, wearing wet suits, traversing tricky fissures and climbs underground, including one section where you plunge in to the darkness in to water and let it carry you 20-30 feet under a low roof with no air space, until you can surface the other side to breathe.

I have never felt so "alive" during the experience, and loved every minute of it. The whole feeling of being many feet underground in utter darkness, I felt deeply comforting and relaxing.

I've always been like this. I grew up in the country and used to use hay bales to make large dens with lots of little passages and switchbacks. Even as a child, I had to argue with my parents to get completely opaque curtains for my bedroom, because I detested the merest hint of light.

I find the dark comforting in a deeply primal way.

The next best thing is complete silence. Utter silence. It's great and I can think better when there is little to no noise around me.

I think I'm practicing for when I'm dead.

[nomadd]

The only time I got a bit nervous caving was in Stoke Lane Slocker floating on my back through the large flooded chamber leading to Sump 1 - in several feet of water, as I recall, with about an inch of air at the top and my nose scraping along the rough ceiling and almost pitch dark.

(You still with me nomadd? )

No, I'd be outside in the sunshine, minding your wallet.

Nomadd

[OwlHoot]

I didn't think I suffered from claustrophobia, until I tried caving.

Try being stuck in a tight, wet crawl space about 22 inches high and 15 yards long, 300 feet underground, with a million tons of solid limestone above you, with your dithering instructor's boots stuck right in front of your face, and your own boots stuck in the face of some bloke behind, who is panicking, with yet another bloke behind him

The only time I got a bit nervous caving was in Stoke Lane Slocker floating on my back through the large flooded chamber leading to Sump 1 - in several feet of water, as I recall, with about an inch of air at the top and my nose scraping along the rough ceiling and almost pitch dark.

(You still with me nomadd? )

Then after thirty feet, you have to take a deep breath and dive under the water, swim for another several feet and surface, being careful not to overshoot and end up stuck under a large underwater overhang.

P.S. Years ago I was told Stoke Lane had gone, after a building company had been given planning permission to mine the area for aggregate; but I'm glad to see from that Wikipedia reference that it's still there.