never before and forever again

I have to stop calling them 'my children.'
I have to stop using the word MY.


'I' still bothers me... the entire concept of ego bothers me.
I have to lose it. I have to figure out how to lose it.


I have to get my life back together, even if that means ending this one.

 

 

In other news...

Honestly, I'm so tired of computers.
I would much rather be creating, or reading, or traversing the world.
But I'm stuck here, because it is how I find things I never would discover otherwise.

Ironic, isn't it?
How the very thing that has brought me the most beautiful music, the most stunning ideas, the most inspiring thoughts... has also blighted my eyes and tainted my days with gruesome fallacies? This glowing window before me has slid it's cold mocking claws between my ribs, grabbed hold, and pulled.
So I'm kneeling here, my hands useless beneath the onslaught of blood, my bones caught in the smoldering wreck. My hair has been stained red and my ears ring with mocking laughter. I sigh and, flinching, try to reform the ice-white spines protruding from my chest. This happens every evening, my shaking voice confesses. No one listens.

I love giving such imagery to my mind. I should do this more often.
Literal words tend to burn after some time. Have you no ingenuity? Where are your deftly fashioned thoughts?

It is 5:08 PM. I do not plan to tarry here longer than 6.
I'm currently reading Fahrenheit 451, which is a simply brilliant book that I wish I had encountered sooner... I had a brief encounter with it during my high school years, albeit through my short-circuited English teacher. Monday, we would start a book, Tuesday, we would read, Wednesday, she would forget about it, and by Thursday that would be the last we heard of it. A true shame that I lost out on so much material in this process.
Regardless, I was positive that it would prove to be a fascinating read within the first two pages. That is how I assess a book, you see. If it fails to connect with me within the first 10 pages, 20 tops, I will be unable to continue. I read books to learn, not to entertain. I am learning quite a lot from this one.

I finally played through the first 10 minutes of Darksiders today. The angels are gorgeous... the entire theme of the game appeals to me highly, so I am looking forward to my next run.
I refuse to finish Nier as of yet. A month ago, when I postulated that "it's going to have an incredibly deep impact on me as a person," I had no idea just how accurate that statement would be. I have been irreversibly changed for the better, and as such I am no longer able to play the game with an audience. I refuse to complete my final missions unless I have several hours of free alone time in which to do so.
...And yes, I will admit, the reason I finally gave in and bought Darksiders is because Liam also voices War. That man wins.

I almost forgot about my heartbox. Do you remember him? I hope he's doing well...
I've been sleeping with my old Darkrai plush for the past few days. Amusingly enough, he does give me nightmares. I'm glad for that, as I haven't had any non-hacked nightmares in many long months. Of course my nightmares are traumatically lucid, but they teach me. They open my eyes to horrors I will hopefully never experience in the waking, yet long to know regardless. I have an addiction to pain, to knowledge, to progress...

I wish I had a new sort of creative ability, something beyond words and pictures and sound... some divine combination of all three, shaped by my hands and holding the very essence of thought within it. A book of golden blood. A violin, lit with the chiming dust of memories. A great tree, formed of braided glass and bronze. Something new.
If only I could go lucid. I could see their faces, I could walk their roads, I could reach out and touch my heart's secret reality.

The things I hold most dear are formless, unable to be expressed in words. I am fraught with empyreal sensations that beautifully overwhelm me, reducing me to a blissfully devastated wreck, unable and unwilling to escape them.
It is why I am so unhappy here. My eyes have darkened to the color of the earth... I have fallen from the stars, now a creature of creation, my arms entwining with the trees I have lived beneath. Yet I cannot tear my thoughts from the sky, the deep blue firmament, lit with colors I have never seen. I am caught between this world and the other, traversing between many as I sleep.
Have I ever told you just how happy I am, when I lose this form with the sun's light?
Have I ever admitted how miserable I am, to be bound to such corporeal things?
Can her axe sever these chains? Or am I fated to destroy them with these two white hands?
My body is covered in scars.

I know I do not belong in this body. It is a test, a task, nothing more. It is an insight which I would otherwise have never gained. It is a different point of view, but it is not mine.
I know I will never belong in this body. I have learned to accept that. Yet in doing so, I have found who I truly am.
I will suffer, but it is pain that I must bear. If I will ultimately succeed in this, I will accept this agony.
I have rediscovered my light, my joy, my destination. I will cast aside the shadows that have crept upon my path during these years.
I refuse to surrender to the false visions and gilded lies. I refuse to surrender.

I have never felt so true before. I have never felt so alive.

If only I could feel that here.

 

 

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