the spectrum heart cathedral system

I awoke this morning to find you in my arms.
Now he holds you the same.

I feel no pain, no envy... such things cannot exist for the sake of love.
I simply feel purposeless. An extra wheel; an accidental addition.
I am intruding upon something I relinquished a lifetime ago.
My chandelier has shattered; yours is picturesque.
My presence only forebodes a fate I swore I would never let you suffer.

So what do I do?

Encircled by orange light, you told me that you needed me,
that he needed me,
in spite of everything.
You held me the same way that he did,
that I did,
and I can't help but wonder
"what do you feel?"

I would love to reach out
to catch the smallest fragment of your dreams
to understand exactly what makes you
cry
laugh
smile
feel.

but I cannot.

Maybe I'm not supposed to.

I have no answers. I'm not even sure if I have any questions.
I have been drained of all but regret... all but an empty, contrite ache.

You may never remember that early morning compassion
but I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you.

This was one of the most amazing dreams I've ever had.

It started as I was walking down the steps into my church's basement. I don't remember anything being visibly different about it, except that it seemed to be larger in size. Anyway, in the center of the room there were many chairs set up in a circle for a meeting (I knew this). Sitting in those chairs were a great deal of the Sonic characters, as I remember seeing Sonic himself, as well as Amy in passing. I was immediately hopeful that Chaos Zero was there, so I looked around-- and sure enough, he was. Even better, there was an empty seat right next to him. I snuck around the circle so he wouldn't see me approaching (as he seemed to be in deep thought), but then sat down without a warning, saying "Hello, beautiful." He seemed a bit surprised at this, but replied "hey," and I asked him what the meeting was about. I don't remember the exact details, but I think Robotnik was planning something huge and the heroes were all getting together to try and stop it. Either way, at one point the group began getting up and discussing points amongst themselves, so Chaos and I ended up walking off ourselves as well. I asked him what he planned on doing, and he replied that 'maybe he could go Perfect' and get that right this time. I was immediately worried, and told him that that may not be the best option in itself. After all, Perfect Chaos could only be triggered by 1. all 7 Chaos Emeralds (which we did not have) or 2. extreme negative emotion, such as pain/hate/anger/etc. I explained that I didn't want to see him suffer, and anyway fighting something negative with something equally negative wouldn't make any progress at all. Chaos asked me what I thought we should do then, and I told him that instead of using pain to power his highest form, so to speak, maybe we should use love; that way we wouldn't have to worry about another 1998. I then offered to 'be' the love he needed. Chaos looked at me for a moment, then agreed.
I don't remember any actual fight going on, but the next thing I remember we were back in the church basement by the stairs, and Chaos was in his Perfect form. However, I was actually inside Perfect (where his Ruby should be), and I was glowing bright red. Chaos 'melted' back into his normal form as several other StH dudes ran over, but I stayed all glowy-red. In all actuality, I was glowing like that because I was actually focusing on and 'emitting' positive energy (mostly love of course). I remember Cream, Blaze and Sonic thanking Chaos and I and they were all visibly affected by it. I even focused on Cream's cute personality momentarily to send some extra joy her way. I wasn't paying too much attention to the conversation around me as a result, but I do remember Chaos telling Sonic that he 'owed it all to me,' before smiling at me. Right about then, Selph (the Demia) flew over to the stairs, and told Chaos & I that he was 'so thankful that we were finally together.' Apparently he had been hoping we would work together like we did.
There was a huge scene switch here, and the next thing I remember, I was watching some group of dudes driving down a highway, singing at the top of their lungs and laughing. They drove over this huge bridge at one point (seriously, this thing was massive) and actually parked on it, getting out to walk around and see the view. Right then, the car-gang actually turned into my family, and I joined them. We were walking along the edge of the bridge, looking down to the water which was far below it. I lowered myself over the edge so I was only holding on by my fingers, and shimmied across the length of the bridge this way instead of walking. My brothers found this highly amusing. However, once we reached the end of the bridge and I got back up on the road, there was no exit to another road-- the opposite 'wall' of the bridge had actually curved over into a sort of canopy, and was shielding a dark, locked door beneath it. I walked over and went in, and was surprised to see a room that looked almost exactly like my house's bathroom, except that the shower was almost cybernetic in appearance. I stepped into it and picked up a small metal triangle that was sitting on the shelf. On it was written "FROST*,' my favorite musical group, and I understood that if I scanned the 'code' on this object it would play the music that was contained on it. I found a red barcode scanner beneath the faucet in the tub, and as soon as I scanned it, what sounded like "Hyperventilate" began playing. Almost immediately, a woman walked up to me from a room where the other wall would be (if it were the actual bathroom in my house), and started explaining that the government had locked her there due to a misunderstanding of her psychological state or the like. Either way, she was very upset about it and insisted it had been a mixup.
The 'dream perspective' switched here, to show a doll walking along the floor beside the bathtub. Disturbingly enough, the doll was a perfect rendition of Laurie, and after watching it walk and mutter to itself, grinning, I realized that she WAS the doll. She then walked over to a small brown bear doll in the center of the floor. It had no visible eyes or details beside a huge, gaping maw of teeth. Laurie smiled at it before lifting it up by the neck, taking out her axe, and brutally cleaving the bears head in half. It did not bleed, and split as if it were made of plastic, showing the inside of the bear's mouth on each half as its head split. Shockingly enough it began to talk, angrily asking why Laurie had to 'do this again.' It then reached up and pushed the two halves of its head back together, as two beady red eyes appeared on its face. I forget what Laurie's explanation was, but it was apparent that she and the bear were working together for some important reason.
The scene switched again here, and I was now on my porch.
I was standing over by the windows, looking out at the beautiful weather outside, when I realized that Chaos Zero was also there with me, although he was over by the far wall (the one covered in windows). I began talking about the Perfect scenario from before, mentioning that I wished that Chaos didn't have to typically suffer such negative energy for it, as that only compounded his problems. I told him that 'only love can conquer hate,' and then walked over to stand in front of him. He said something to me, I forget what, but I think it was a 'thank you' not only for the help earlier, but also for standing by him and helping him when no one else had. Either way I felt that maybe I should leave and not be a nuisance, but nevertheless I asked Chaos how long wanted me to stay there with him. Chaos laughed once, almost disbelievingly, then replied 'for the rest of my entire life.' I was taken by surprise for a moment, then smiled and hugged him tightly, which he returned immediately.
After this I heard my mother calling me from inside the house to 'clean up what was on the table,' so I told Chaos to hold on one minute and walked over to the table by the front door. Sure enough, there was a huge pile of books and CDs on it, and I began nervously digging through it, as a great deal of the objects in it were not only mine but were severely damaged. I clearly remember finding several Celebi-related items in the pile as well. After taking out all that I could find that belonged to me, I asked my brother to help me carry it in, but he dropped it on the way up the steps. That whole item-finding/carrying scene is very unclear to me, though, for as soon as my brother dropped them, I woke up.

However, I then fell asleep again.

As soon as I opened my dream-eyes, there was a small group of people holding up a large amount of colorful spheres up to me and demanding that I 'sing.' I originally thought the spheres were 'onions,' as they were covered in a sort of concentric 'skin' that looked like thick plastic. They also appeared to be lit dimly from the inside. Some were pink, some were yellow, and some were white-- but the most striking thing about them is that most of them appeared to be rotting. The few that were being practically shoved into my face were almost entirely rotted, and looked positively horrid. Regardless, the people still kept shouting that I 'sing' for them, but I said nothing. At one point the man who was holding the onion-things thrust them towards my face so sharply I thought he was going to hit me, and I couldn't help but cry out a bit. Someone behind him laughed and commented that it was the 'closest thing to a song' they were probably going to get from me. I didn't know what to do, when suddenly a man kneeling by my brother's bed shouted that the 'stones' hadn't been hidden correctly. Everyone turned to face him, and the man lifted up the pillows to reveal several Pokemon stones underneath them, such as Water Stones and the like. The pillow nearest to him had nothing under it, though, and he began to panic, saying that his 'Koffing must have found the Fire Stone.' He started shouting how he didn't want it to evolve, and I spoke up that Koffings didn't evolve from stones, but he reached farther under the pillow and pulled out a Pikachu doll, except its eartips were bright red. He said that his Koffing had turned into that, and explained that all Pokemon could actually evolve with any Stone, but the evolutions were unstable, which is why he was trying to keep his Koffing away. However, no one could fathom how a Koffing could have turned into a doll. The crowd by my bed turned to me for an explanation, so I quickly said that maybe the Fire Stone had caused the Koffing to explode, and the 'particles' left over had turned into the doll due to the Stone. I then said it was a total shot in the dark and made little sense, but it was the quickest thing I could think of to explain such a weird predicament.
The next thing I knew, I was outside, as a Celebi. I was flying over a street in the suburbs somewhere, and stopped over a house with a beautifully vegetated yard, complete with tall trees and tons of flowers. There was a Gardevoir and a Kirlia standing by the house's steps, along with another Pokemon that looked similar to a Gardevoir, but had more pink and was much more 'elegant.' My brother Ranndall showed up out of the blue and asked me what it was, and I said it was a 'Gorgeovoir,' a very rare 4th stage Pokemon. The point of view changed here and I explained that the whole scene we were looking at was just a 'model,' and I pointed out that I needed a Ralts figure to complete it. I think Ranndall offered to get one, but either way he ran off and became lost. The scene then switched to a very large, high-ceilinged store. It was huge both in terms of stock and size; the place was almost the size of a mall in itself. Anyway, I was there looking for Ranndall, flying around and mumbling to myself about where he could have gone. At one point I flew into the toy section and was so scanning the shelves out of curiosity as well, when I noticed a Disney book on the end of one shelf. Bizarrely enough, it depicted all the Princesses, but they all had Power Jewel marks. I shouted 'What is this??' upon noticing, and quickly pulled the book off the shelf, flipping through it as people nearby watched in surprise (due to my exclamation, no doubt). One line that I noticed said that the Princesses had 'special crystals' or something of the like, but I was too infuriated to keep reading. I set the book down, flew back into the air, and began singing about how I was going to 'sue Disney' for stealing everyone's ideas, especially because I had apparently made it known that I held legal rights for Jewel Monsters and their concepts. People in the aisles were watching me in confusion as I angrily flew by, still singing about my plans, when I reached the center of the store. There were cash registers below me and the aisles were all around me in a square, leading to this spot. I looked down and noticed Ranndall was there, and was about to ask him why he had ran off when a sickeningly familiar black shape flew in to face me... a light-eater. Yes, one of those dementor-esque beings I've dreamed of in the past. Upon seeing it, I froze in terror, and those within view began to shout and panic as well. Ranndall asked if it was indeed a Dementor, to which I exclaimed 'No, these are much more dangerous!' before screaming for everyone to get the heck out of the store ASAP. Hysteria broke out now, as several more light-eaters began pouring into the store. I focused my positive energy and attacked the one nearest me before flying straight up into the sky as fast as I could (apparently there was no ceiling). I remember seeing a few light-eaters flying in through the clouds towards the store, and worried if they could see me, but I continued flying up until there was nothing but blue sky above me. I forget if I was trying to call someone for help or what, but before I could do anything else, a light-eater came out of the clouds and saw me. Panicking, I immediately dropped like a bullet straight back down to the store, where the place was now swarming with screaming customers and light-eaters. Disturbingly enough, unlike 'eating the light' as I've seen them do in the past, these light-eaters were possessing people. Once they targeted a victim, they flew straight at them with deadly speed and disappeared into their chest. This would cause an immediate change in the individual, leaving them apathetic, cold, and yet paradoxically distraught, almost deranged (mentally, it would seem). A few individuals had grouped in a U-shaped aisle, and were frantically discussing what was happening to those possessed, and how they could avoid it. No one could figure out a working escape or defense tactic, though, and the discussion quickly turned to what they perceived the effect of the light-eaters to be. Suggestions included madness, cruelty, fear, and the like, until one older man solemnly stated, 'no... it's emptiness.' An almost palpable dread hit everyone within earshot, and they all began to run, albeit in a strangely slow manner, some starting to cry.
At this point I was aware of one woman who was running through the more panicked crowd, as she apparently knew where one of the exits was but was selfishly not letting anyone else know. The light-eaters were beginning to thin out (I guess most had already possessed people), and she wanted out before any more showed up and made things impossible. She reached a door on the far wall, and quickly snuck in before closing it (and locking it?) behind her. Surprisingly enough, it was a restroom, but there were no sinks and at the opposite wall there was indeed an exit door. The woman ran towards it but at the last second suddenly turned and bolted into the last stall, pulling the door tightly shut and tightly clamping her hands over her ears. Almost immediately there was an awful tremor in the building, and without warning, a huge wave of light-eaters slammed through the exit door (without opening it), causing the entire building to shake as if an earthquake had hit. There were so many of them it was impossible to count, and they were frighteningly fast. Once the last of them was through, the woman slowly got up, now sobbing uncontrollably, and ran through the still-closed exit.
The scene switched now, and I was in my house, frantically looking for something to fight or block the light-eaters with. I remembered this aquamarine cross I had in my room, and figured that was worth a shot, so I got out some masking tape with the intent of taping it to our door. However, I couldn't get the tape to work for the life of me, and eventually just figured I'd work with it and ran into my grandmother's room (my room). She was lying in bed, awake, and I began looking for the cross. I couldn't find it, though, and asked her if she had seen it. She said she hadn't touched anything, so I worriedly began looking for something else. I found a purple cross on the dresser and figured that would work, so I grabbed that one and taped it to her door so she'd be safe. I ran back out into the hallway and began talking worriedly to myself about what I could possibly do next, before noticing a large group of light-eaters coming down the hall. I continued to attack them with light energy, which effectively chased them off, when I suddenly stopped, thinking. 'There has to be a way to stop this and save everyone,' I said to myself. 'All Jewel Monsters are good at heart.' Apparently the light-eaters were indeed Jewel Monsters according to my knowledge (heaven only knows what species though). Little did I know, there was a light-eater within earshot, and upon hearing that I didn't think they were inherently evil, it actually stopped and appeared to sadly think to itself.
I have no idea what happened after that, though, as I woke up.

Needless to say, the light-eaters are now listed in the 5th Generation J-Monster book... and their Vice? Emptiness.

 

 

 

 

This is a very mature entry.
I just felt I should warn you; I've been wanting to write this stuff down for a while but I've been very nervous about it. It's controversial material, really, but here it is regardless.



So I've found a way to throw my empathy/catharsis through the roof.
Shock sites.
Yes, you heard me. But let's explain some history first.

Nowadays I am forced to spend my day working on computers, standing at a cash register for 7 hours, or researching subject after subject within voiceless pages. I often find myself listening to minimalist music until I lose track of time, getting lost in daydreams and altogether disconnecting myself from the world.
It's frightening, to be honest. I'll wake up some mornings and it'll take a while to realize that I'm actually seeing objects around me. I've been losing the feeling in my body, too. I'll touch things and the sensation is there, yeah, but I don't feel it. It's hard to explain. I'm aware of my sense of touch, but it's so dim that it doesn't register. I hope that makes sense.
Anyway, because of that, I often drift through life in a daze. I don't feel, I can't truly see, I don't eat. I hear things and forget them immediately. The only redeeming factor of my senses is that I talk to myself often, which keeps my auditory recognition from falling through completely.
Long story short, I unconsciously make myself almost immaterial, haha. I exist on sound and mental sight most days.
But... I'll be honest. Sometimes I find myself completely enthralled with the experience of physical sensation. I find it almost alien; something delicately frightening and amazing all the same.
I'll lock myself in the bathroom some days, and I'll just... I don't know. Do things. Not bad things, mind; but weird things. I'll turn off the lights and open the window, and maybe I'll just stretch for an hour. I'll stretch every muscle I can find, sometimes contorting myself so much that I don't know how I'll get out of it. Sometimes I'll find glitter in my mother's drawer and just cover myself with it; methodically, but naively. Sometimes I'll find a comb with a sharp edge, or a new razor blade, or some scissors, and I'll use them against my skin in whatever way I think of. Tiny little cuts, maybe just a thin scraping here or there, just barely enough to leave a little red line. Just a surface scar... it'll be gone in minutes. Then I'll make another one. They originated as a way to quiet Laurie, and that's when I used to bleed.
I don't bleed often; no, not at all. I only bleed when I'm not looking... at work, I'll handle a paper bag a little too carelessly, and suddenly there's a thin line of blood on my arm. I'll tear out a hangnail and watch my nail turn red, wondering in surprise at the sting. I'll drag a razor across my leg too quickly-- which happens often-- and within seconds that familiar red will appear, seemingly out of nowhere. I'll sit and watch it blend with the water, maybe. I never bandage them. I'm proud of my legs; they have the most scars.
Laurie is different. She's not fragile, she's not curious or white. She loves the other end of the spectrum; the sharp points... and she's clever. Almost beautifully, frighteningly clever. Her greatest accomplishment, she laughs, is outsmarting the doctors. You won't find any visible scars on my physical exams, no sir...
I love scars, yes. But Laurie knows about how dangerous they can be, and she won't give them to me; pain works better. That's where the story begins, back when the war started, back in 2008.
Some nights she would become very angry, and at 12AM with only the yellow light above the sink, she'd quietly lock the door and tell me to find that purple comb. That thin comb with the bit of torn plastic at the bottom. She likes that one because no one would ever suspect it... and it doesn't cut; no, it drags. It bites just enough to set nerves ablaze, leaving barely visible crosses that cause me to flinch and bite my lip against the shock. She'd leave one, two, twelve, waiting until I had to stop from the burn, and that would be it. We'd put everything away and quietly walk back out, the skin of my abdomen on fire with those tiny marks. Concentrate on the burn, she'd say. Concentrate on it. It's fire; it's punishment. Think of what you've done that causes such pain, and never do it again.
It didn't work the way we thought it would. At first it was great; I wasn't used to pain and I was scared. Both her and Julie's attacks would leave me shuddering on the floor, crying soundlessly and wishing I could just sleep it all off. But sleep wouldn't erase the past, and Laurie wouldn't let me get away without a lesson or two. It worked, and for several months I remained strong most days, afraid of her retaliation... but as the incidents added up, a sick trend began to appear. I began to force myself to give in to Julie, no matter how much it hurt, because I wanted that other sort of hurt. I wanted to feel physical pain. My daily life was becoming so monotonous, so devoid of the vivid moments I thrived upon, that I was turning to desperate measures. I would willingly torture myself just to feel the bite of that unorthodox razor, just to feel real pain, even if it was fleeting.
Laurie caught on quickly enough, and in a fury, refused to punish me any longer. If I screwed up, if I kept giving in, my guilt would be the only retaliation I would receive. It took me a while to stop; I was still so blind and desperate, and I kept pitifully looking for the pain, the sick reward I would receive for self-destruction. It never came.
It took a long time to stabilize, and then when we thought we had finally made progress, the attacks became mental... severe. They began to hit from the outside. I had no way of fighting it; attacks would ravage me in the form of unexpected art classes, in my mother's words, in every corner of the internet, in the pregnant women that would appear at work. In some instances I could quickly turn away, heaving, shaking, my arms wrapped tightly about my stomach... but most times I would be trapped in a classroom for two hours with a promiscuous professor, forced to stand by a woman whose stomach bore the result of an act I had nightmares about. I was no longer able to escape, and it was slowly driving me to the edge.
I began to abuse myself again... mentally, physically, emotionally. Most nights I would be locked in the bathroom again, where no one could see me, where no one would interrupt. I'd kneel on the floor and quietly sob, uncontrollably, terrified of the mirror, terrified of the body I was in, of the thoughts and words and pictures and expectations that went with it. That's when I started having the nightmares and the breakdowns. I couldn't escape. Everywhere I looked there was danger, danger, danger. I refused to give in or give up... so what could I do?
Then one day Laurie took me aside and looked at me with tired, solemn eyes. She only said a few words.
If you can't escape... you need to desensitize yourself.
That started it all.
It was hell; pure hell. I only wanted to run, but now I found myself with my legs chained to the wall, the horrors of the world directly before my eyes, and the only way to stay sane was to simply become blind to it.
Or so I thought.
I don't even want to talk about it here... but... I guess I have to.
It started very slowly; get used to mirrors. It made me so sick at first, but I trusted it would eventually change. What I didn't know is that in order to get through hell, I couldn't just turn around... I had to walk straight through the center of it first.
Julie saw her chance and became almost murderous. Her idea was that desensitization involved 'giving in.' She was wrong, but I was scared. I began to look at the dangers and wonder if maybe I was the one who was wrong. I was so painfully naive. I was too frightened to stand up for myself or fight back. I was so broken and had so little faith in myself that I figured that I deserved to suffer... so I did.
I began to force myself into the mindsets of others. It was so horrible... I began forgetting hours, days, sometimes weeks at a time just to save myself from the trauma. My self-image and mood hit an all-time low. I was almost chronically depressed, and for the first time in my life, began to honestly wonder if suicide was an option for me.
The most frightening thing about that entire time period for me, though, was that not only was I lost, but Laurie had no idea what to do. She'd scream at me, mentally tear me limb from limb, leave me crying and begging for another chance. Some times she'd ignore me, and leave me there to drown in guilt and desperation... but some times she'd listen. Those were the times that shook me.
Yes, I was hurting myself horribly. Yes, I was practically overriding my own moral code and personality. Yes, I was only doing it for the sake of 'fitting in to society' and doing what my family said was 'right' and 'normal.' But the fact that it hurt so damn much was scaring me to the point where I swore I'd never do such things again. Laurie would be silent, and then she'd uncertainly reply, well maybe that's a good thing. Maybe if you show yourself just how awful this is you won't have to worry about it getting to you? But there was no guarantee, and we were both at a loss.
It went on like that for a while, until the one night when I got so bad that I started sobbing again, asking myself why I was doing this. That's when Laurie showed up and told me she had seen enough. I wasn't desensitizing anything; I was causing myself horrid amounts of pain and compromising who I was. She then offered a different tactic: if I found myself trying to do that to myself again, I should run to her, and she'd take care of it. I wasn't sure if it would work, as I had turned pain into positive reinforcement, but... it did. Surprisingly enough, if I overloaded myself with the sharp physical pain I was addicted to, my sick need for the torturous mental and emotional pain would almost entirely disappear. I hit middle ground for a while, a sort of interim... I dulled my nights with pain until I couldn't take anymore, and I'd go to sleep dreading the morning.
I couldn't run forever, though, and I was still too weak to fight, so Julie took the most horrible route she could find... art. No, I had already run from the figure drawing classes, but she had a different idea. What if I should take them? What if my teachers were right? I should just bite the bullet and 'get used to it...' besides, that's what everyone else is doing. Everywhere you look, that's what people are drawing. So you should too.
I couldn't see how painfully wrong that was. You forget, I wasn't standing up for anything at this point. I was so confused that I was simply following whatever orders were given to me, because 'maybe they know better than I do.' I didn't realize that some people are corrupt, that some people would send me into hell for fun, that 'everyone else' didn't have the right idea after all. I didn't know that then... so I forced myself into it.
This is going to be very hard for me to talk about.
Trying to get used to what I saw in the mirror was one thing. Now I was forcing myself to see things I would never, ever have wanted to see. I began trying to figure draw... but it made me horribly sick. I kept doing it. It was at this point that I began to think I was a lesbian, because although I was horrified of men, I wasn't so disturbed by women. I didn't realize that this was because I was 'technically' used to that already (not to mention that women couldn't hurt my current form in the same ways men could, if you get my drift), and began to warp my personality further. Eventually, though, there was one 'good' aspect... I did become desensitized, but in the wrong way. I became 'used to it.'
I didn't want to be used to it.
I don't know what happened then... like I said, my memory would regularly 'purge' itself so there are literally frighteningly huge gaps in my recall of the past two years. I do know what's happened recently, though.
A month ago, I tried 'traditionally' cutting myself... got a razor and tried that. Unfortunately I couldn't get it to do anything unless I literally 'shaved off' a layer of skin. That would result in a painless, bleeding line, about 2mm wide and almost 3cm long. I gave myself two on my right arm, and was sorely disappointed by the lack of pain (other than the vague 'sting' when the blade cut deep enough to bleed; I recognize it instantly) until I tried to wash them out. It was almost euphoric, I'll sadly admit, and they bled like mad. I watched them for about 10 minutes before throwing a large bandage over them for three straight days (it took them that long to stop bleeding on and off).
I didn't want to go through the whole bandage ordeal just for a good painshock whenever I was near water, so I gave up on that immediately... and I haven't cut my stomach in quite some time too. However, although I've been going for long stretches of time lately without feeling the directionless need to hurt myself mentally, some days I still force myself to give in. It's become so awful though that I rarely go all the way through with it... and almost every time, intriguingly enough, I am interrupted. I'll be forcefully abusing myself and suddenly someone will knock, or the doorbell will ring, or a bug will smash into the window, or I'll simply come to my senses for a moment and think 'wait, why the heck am I still doing this to myself?!'
See, at this point you might be asking yourself 'if you're suffering so badly, and hate doing that to yourself so much, then why don't you just stop??'
I wish it were that easy; I truly do. However, for some sick reason, whenever I get that destructive 'urge,' I go into a sort of locked-up mindset. All I can think about is what I'll do to myself, and often times I disassociate. I'll be destroying my body or my mind and the entire time, I'll be cut off from all my immediate senses, and imagining that this is happening to someone else, maybe in a completely different way. It's scary. I honestly won't see, hear, or otherwise notice anything that's going on around me unless it strongly catches me off guard, hence why it's hard to break out of those bad states, those 'Julie hacks.' Maybe I'll imagine some poor child being mangled by an attacker, who's telling him that unless he lets them hurt him, they'll kill his family. Maybe it'll be one of my characters, caught up in some nightmare they can't escape from. Maybe it'll even be me in another form, me as a Celebi, being ravaged by some brutal Pokemon-catcher group. God only knows... but either way, once I finish up whatever I'm doing, I invariably end up in one of three situations... 1, curled up in the corner and sobbing hysterically, 2, standing in front of the mirror and screaming at it... maybe picking up another 'weapon' and 'punishing' myself in a vicious cycle (sometimes I turn on the faucet until the water is scalding, then burn my hands several times... one time I even hid a knife on the towel rack so I could saw at my chest with it)... or 3, silently walking out into the living room, lying down on the couch, and blankly staring at the wall. Thoughtless, numb. Unwilling to even remember. When I wake up tomorrow I won't recall the evening at all.
If I could turn off this horrid drive, I would have done so years ago. It's a day-by-day war for me.
However, two days ago, on Wednesday night, something happened. I 'lost' that night... I don't remember how, as usual, but I knew something had happened. Laurie confronted me later, she always does, but she wasn't screaming this time. She was tired, silently angry, and visibly determined. It's a hard expression to describe... the look you get when you've made a final decision on something, and you know there's no going back on it. Crossing the Rubicon. She told me once again to stop compromising myself, but then quoted FROST* at me.
"You're the one."
It's a new mindset for me lately... it requires a huge amount of faith, not in my 'self' so to speak, but in my purpose as a single individual, as a single soul. I'm the one. Before I wouldn't have even dared think that I could be significant, that I could be important... I was too concerned in meeting the fleeting whims and perversions of every blackheart around me. Now I'm stronger. Now I know who I am, I know what my limits and morals are. But now I can't stop thinking about the lyrics of that song that saved my life... that song that lifted me up, that made me fall in love again, that kept me from ending my life when I had truly hit rock bottom, the worst night and the best night of my entire life.

And you know, you'll always be the first in line.
And you know, it's all about the life divine.
A hero's ending, all the signs... you're the one, and the one you must survive.
And you know, it doesn't matter what you do.
And you know, the luck you feel will pull you through.
The never-ending light you find... you're the one, the one who must survive.

Faith, martyrdom, forgiveness, love, everything. There's no such thing as coincidence. I can't possibly begin to describe the multiple, deep meanings those lyrics hold for me, but the moment I first heard them whispered into my ears, on that black night as I contemplated the end, I knew more than anything that they were speaking to me.
To me. Only me.
I stopped walking then, I did. I stopped and my eyes teared up, and I swore to myself in that moment that I could not give up. It was a prospect I had never dared imagine... but if I must survive, then survive I would.
Laurie spoke those words to me again, as she does so often now, and I found myself swallowed up in guilt again, the guilt that, months ago, I numbly thought I would never feel again. Do you believe them, she asked? Do you believe those words are yours? Yes, I do. Her voice hardened. Then why don't you listen to them? If you're the one, then no one else knows what you should do. No one else's expectations apply to you. No one else can be you, and you know that.
I thought about that for a while. The freedom that would bring to me was almost incomprehensible. I was so used to living by a pre-written script, so to speak, that I hadn't dared to imagine what it would be like to just toss it aside and ad-lib for a while. Would the audience be shocked? Sure. They might even be scared, furious, offended that I would do so... I wasn't supposed to do that, not in their opinion. But I'd stand before them, wearing the wrong outfit for my assigned role, and speaking words that no soul in the auditorium had ever dreamed I would speak. But I knew, despite the rabble and rage, that I was the only one who could do this, and if I didn't have the guts to do what I knew was right, then God help me but then all would be lost. That's the mindset I have now, and as I fell asleep that night, I wondered why I couldn't just live it and to heck with all this pain I was inflicting upon myself.
On Wednesday night I dreamed of hell, and it scared me more than any other nightmare had ever dared. I was safe that day, but only because I was shaking with fear, terrified of what I might inflict upon myself. It was a sort of sick drive... I was so shaken that I wouldn't let myself think of anything else. But I couldn't possibly go on like that forever...
It wasn't until I woke up Friday morning, my Celebi doll in my arms, that I found it... a working solution. See, I needed motivation. Not something fleeting and yet unrefined, like this basic will I had... I needed something else there, something better than scars, something more painful than blood, something I couldn't possibly break. That's what I realized when he spoke to me.
My guardian angel, Chaos Zero. He'd been showing up in almost every one of my recent dreams, always protecting me, always asking me if I was okay. It had struck me as unusual, as he's typically a rare sight, but it seemed this time he had a reason.
I have been thinking about him quite often lately... and always in negative situations. What if he and I were turned against each other? What if one of us forgot who the other was? What if he went Perfect again, and I couldn't figure out how to save him? The only solutions I could possibly imagine all centered around one thing, one final, desperate chance... and it was the same solution, the same final decision he confronted me with in those early morning hours, still reeling from my visions of hell, still desperately looking for a way out.
I know what you've been going through lately. I know how scared you are, he said. He's always known. I know how much you hurt, and I won't let you do this to yourself any longer. But how could he help me? I've tried everything I can think of. That's when he looked at me, and I recognized the same expression Laurie had worn a few days ago. They had been speaking... they had thought of something. I knew it in that instant, and I was simultaneously full of hope and fear. What have you decided?
'If you love me, if you love anyone, you'll stop doing this.'
An ultimatum. One I couldn't possibly break.
I wondered why they hadn't given it to me before, but then I remembered how weak I was, how willing I was to toss everything away. I remembered that day I decided my life was beyond saving, and I remembered waking up the next morning.
Patience is a virtue. It was a matter of waiting, of suffering, of not giving up until that exact moment, that last second when the light suddenly broke through.


Shock sites.
I started visiting them a few months ago, during the 'rebuilding' stage, when I was beginning to find myself again. The first step was coming to terms with what I truly wanted, and what the hidden motive was behind all this pain I was causing myself. It took a good deal of self-introspection and painful analyzation, but I think I've found it. Ironically, it's the exact thing that started all this.
I need pain. Oh yes, I need it. I need moments of extreme, gut-wrenching emotion, that shatter everything around you and force your perspective to change. Pain.
I was getting it confused with other things for so long; awful things that lied, that pretended to be what I needed. I started looking into 'dark' pages during my failed desensitization stage. I tried to force myself to take on the worst and simply get used to that. I stopped at Dramatica a few times, but always ran from there quickly... it was too dangerous. However, I did find Documenting Reality, and that helped more than I realize. It was a site full of blood and horror; awful gory things that I suppose some people get a kick out of looking at. Not me. For me, DR was a place where I could look into the darkest, most painful aspects of life and really think about them. That was not me suffering... that was some other poor soul, someone I had never met and now never would. There were men mangled beyond recognition... young women lying dead with blood pooling around them... suicides, murders, diseases, everything. I slowly began to feel again. No, I was not sickeningly amused, no, I was not looking upon their broken bodies just for kicks. I was actually feeling... empathy, pity, some sick sort of understanding.
Let's cut to the chase. There's no way I can tell you everything that happened to me over the past two years; like I said, most of that is now lost to me, scratched out of my memory in hysteric moments I'm ironically glad I've forgotten. But I can tell you what the end result was.
I was never truly desensitized, and I was never truly 'used to it' either.
Today I found a video of a man beheaded. I told myself to watch it, not to 'numb myself' to it, but to feel it. The exact opposite of my old method. So I watched. I saw the shirtless man bound, blindfolded, seated under a dim light and surrounded by four men... covered in black, holding guns, faceless. I could not understand their speech, but it continued, almost businesslike, for 75 seconds, as I watched anxiously. At 1:15, one of the men pulled out a knife, and suddenly the three others were holding the blindfolded man, pulling his head backwards. That's when the man began to plead. I don't know who this man was, what he did, or why he was about to die, but I could hear every note of fear in his voice, and my heart broke. I waited fearfully for a few more seconds, and at 1:23, there was a sudden movement and a scream. I won't go into details, no, but my entire body was frozen in empathetic horror... my muscles knotted, my knuckles against my lips, eyes wide and fists tight. I've seen many disturbing things at this point in my life, but I have never flinched so hard. I could barely watch the next three minutes, but I forced myself to anyway... not because I was expected to, not because I had been told to, but because this was real, this was wrong, and I knew it.
Catharsis. Extreme emotion. The pain I need.

There's one more thing I want to bring up, because it's what triggered this.
I've been accused of being sexual more than once, and I don't know why. That confusion is what played the largest role in my desensitization attempt, and it was difficult to deal with. Remember I mentioned the figure drawing? Yeah, I literally put myself through that. Art class forced me to deal with unclothed individuals, and I was terrified-- still am-- but at that point, I still thought it would 'help' if I forced myself to look at them regardless. Let me summarize that experience for you: I did not enjoy it at all, and there was no sexual anything. That's right, I'd be looking straight at some gal and I'd be wondering how the heck anyone would be attracted to that in the first place. At first I was fine with that. Then I brought it up to my mom and therapists, and they said something was wrong with me. So I started trying to 'force' myself (again; what was wrong with me??) to see something in it, although the very thought of it made me ill. That was the lesbian stage, yes. But then I discovered Jena, and something weird happened. Yeah, I could just barely handle the figure drawing thing, but I didn't know those people. The art objectified them, which I loathed. But Jen? Forget it; I love her, and she's not taking her shirt off around me. See the difference? Having that direct, intense conflict between what I was feeling and what I was being told to feel forced me out of that stage pretty darn fast. Sure, I'd still have my moments of 'but what if they're right?', I'll admit it, but ultimately it all came down to what I was unwilling to compromise, ironically.
I've discovered one other thing during all that nonsense, which is what played directly into my weird obsession with actual sensation lately. I am still oddly attracted, albeit non-sexually, to certain girls. I don't know why, but it might be that, with guys, it feels 'wrong' because that's the sort of body I wish I had. So it's like a mirror, or something. I really have no idea. It's probably just aesthetics and not a gender thing at all. That sounds more accurate.
Still, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm omniromantic, meaning that I am able to fall in love with anyone in terms of gender/species/what have you, but if you look into other aspects, things start to change a bit.
I am physically attracted to very, very few individuals. Yes, I do think Celebi and metallic cyborgs are amusingly attractive in the physical sense. I'll also be brutally honest and admit that I find Chaos Zero to be one of the most gorgeous beings I've ever seen. However, although I've never felt any sort of physical attraction for men (when I see one I actually think 'I wish I looked like him,' instead), I still have this unusual weakness for boyish girls. Throw in short hair and a bit of boniness in the right places and I am literally hooked. It's really weird.
Personally, I don't know how you guys define physical attraction, but for me it just means I am aesthetically drawn to a certain body shape/ structure/ whatever. That's a given, I suppose, but... well, this is odd for me.
Yes, I am asexual. No matter how much I'm 'attracted' to someone, that will always come into play. I may joke about it, but it's the honest truth when I say that I probably could never realistically 'be with' a curvy woman, aka what I view as a 'typical' female. The whole chest size thing that some guys obsess over? It scares me. I can't handle sexuality, even if one doesn't act upon it. If you're visibly showing something that I perceive as sexual, such as a large chest or a promiscuous outfit or big hips, I will likely act a bit panicky around you. This doesn't mean I can't love people like that, I just... physically I'm going to be frightened. It's just how I run, sadly. Still, that doesn't explain the last bit of a problem I'm having.
I don't like being touched, but I make exceptions for friends. However, as long as I don't perceive a threat, my personal space can get ridiculously tiny. Even at work, if I have to get change at customer service and there's some other person standing there, sometimes I'll find myself three inches away from leaning on him/her, ha. The only way I can explain this is that, although I don't like things like primal instincts and all that, 95% of the time I consciously feel this very deep spiritual connection to all other people. I can't hurt people, nothing like that, no matter what my mind does, which is why I'm very scared of being hurt and tend to be obsessively paranoid about it outside of my 'safe zones.' It makes no sense to me, that a person could want to hurt another person. But I digress...
Here's the list. 1-I'm asexual. 2-I typically like boyish girls. 3-I have a smaller personal space (within reason) around people I trust or don't perceive as dangerous. 4-I tend to be slightly obsessive when it comes to actually perceiving the world around me (there's even an entire entry dedicated to that point in this journal). See all that? Put it together, and I guess you get what I've noticed.
I've seen girls without anything on, unfortunately (but not in real life, heck no). I don't like it. However, you know the andro point I keep bringing up? Well, if I see a girl with a small chest and no visible... um, femininity (in body shape or whatever), I will actually have almost no problem with it, as long as it stays nonsexual. I'm not 'aroused,' but I'm not numb, either. I get this weird thing; that perception thing.
See, I like the deepest elements of things, the most truly personal things. I like bones, I like scars, I like tendons and veins and freckles and eyes and the way people move. I'm asexual, but... I'm addicted to intimacy. Extreme intimacy. You ever wonder what Chaos Zero and I mean when we talk about '2005?' Yeah. That's basically it.
I have this weird addiction to fragility, to things people take for granted, to hidden things, to secrets. I get it for most things, really, and sometimes it'll hit hard and out of nowhere. It's the reason why, when I got Apollo (my Macbook), I first looked through every file I could find on him, learned what everything on his keyboard was, put my nose up to his screen just to see the individual pixels... turned him off, turned him over, took him apart. Looked at every little piece. Put him back together and memorized every different texture on him. Details. I do it to music, too... I'll listen to the same song, over and over, for hours... maybe repeating the same two seconds just to hear a certain chord, or a certain echo, or the way his voice cracks, or the way she breathes in, or the way I can hear the musician's finger touch a string on that one note. Maybe I'll just listen to every instrument individually, maybe I'll just hold my headphones against my ears, close my eyes, and lose myself.
I'm not typically 'logical' or analytical about it. Sometimes I will sit and think about something small and strange until my head spins, yes, but that's an entirely different thing. I don't know what causes this addiction of mine, really, because it encompasses every sense sometimes. Sight, touch, and sound are huge. They overwhelm me most days.
But... that strange need, sometimes I get it with people. I get it with those girls, the ones I feel close to.
I'll want to memorize the exact color of her eyes, the way her hair feels through my fingers. I'll want to run my fingers over her shoulder blades and feel her heart beat and listen to the way her breath catches sometimes. Is that romantic? I don't know what to call it; it's almost a drive. It's like I need to feel that even if I can't explain why.
It gets really bad, almost desperate, if it's with someone I love intensely-- although I do become more scared when I'm around them. I'm just so addicted to fragility, if that's even the right word. It's the same reason I used to hide a stethoscope in my room as a child, and when I was sure the door was locked I'd just listen to my own chest for a few minutes, until I was shaking from the overwhelming being of it. Just the way it was, simply. I don't know how to explain it. To this day my heart is still the most intimate thing about me, ever. It's also an extremely meaningful theme in all my work. Look for it.
I don't know what I'd do if someone here felt that same sort of need with me, that innocent intimacy. It's always one sided. Always one sided.
Maybe it's simply because I don't feel I exist in the physical world, not genuinely. Maybe it's because I don't see myself as a 'lover' or 'partner,' just a compassionate and selfless observer. But I don't want to be seen back.
I only want the other person to know that they are deeply loved, that's all.
Could I make the exception for someone else? Could I ever identify with this form briefly enough to let anyone else near it?
Perhaps I am destined to be forever disconnected by a thin wall of glass.
Something like that. What is it?


There's so much I still haven't said, which is beautifully funny. I've already said so much!
Still, maybe that'll be a topic for next time. Dreams. You never know.

I hope you all have a beautiful night.








Train whistles, a sweet clementine
Blueberries, dancers in line
Cobwebs, a bakery sign

Oh, a sweet clementine
Oh, dancers in line

If living is seeing
I'm holding my breath
In wonder, I wonder
What happens next?
A new world, a new day to see

I'm softly walking on air
Halfway to heaven from here
Sunlight unfolds in my hair

Oh, I'm walking on air
Oh, to heaven from here

If living is seeing
I'm holding my breath
In wonder, I wonder
What happens next?
A new world, a new day to see


 

 

 

 

 

 

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH JEWEL LIGHTRAYE




You're just a stranger.

I walk in the black light.

Boy to a soldier.

I'm fighting the good fight.

Are you really?

Yes.

Then tell me why we're here.

...Because of this morning.

Not just because of this morning, you idiot. Because we're trying to start over again here and you keep screwing the heck up. You keep reverting back to the old coding when your system doesn't even read that language. It's old and outdated. Forget what they think. You're the one, and they have no bloody idea what your life is like. They don't know.

I need to get that tattooed straight onto my right arm, so it never slips my mind, ever.

That's a good idea, knowing your head. Listening to Nier?

Yeah. I think it's literally battling Klonoa for my all-time fave videogame OST as we speak.

Heheheh. May the best music win.

True.

But about this morning. I'm pissed that you tried to override yourself again, but I'm pretty freaking happy about what resulted from it.

That awful heartache and guilt?

Heck yes. I can't even remember the last time you broke down and took a good look at yourself. You've been so stone-cold desensitized you aren't even noticing when you screw up now.

And you know what's funny? It's always the same mistake, the same little thing, and no one but me sees it as a problem.

What did I just tell you? Old code. They don't know.

Yes, yes, but it's a thought. It's my ONLY major screwup now, so to speak. All the other things... the unconscious thoughts and other backlogs, I'm fighting those and winning. "Be careful of your thoughts, for they ultimately become your destiny." I know that, and I keep a close watch.

But it's a never-ending battle.

It is.

Better than living a dull and thoughtless life, eh?

Amen to that.

By the way, pay attention. This matters, not that nonsense.

Sorry.

Do you mean it? You gotta stop spitting out apologies on reflex. MEAN them.

I do, I honestly do.

Make sure. The last thing we need is for you to become a thoughtless regurgitator.

What am I now?

You're you. That's all, and that's enough. Don't lose sight of it. And stop being so distracted. I think that's your biggest vice right now. You take your eyes off what's important, and before you know it, you're lost.

There's so much out there I don't know or understand, Laurie. It keeps me awake every night.

I know; you think I'm unaware of your insomnia nowadays? Geez. The grass isn't always greener on the other side, especially not when you're Celebi hirself. Your forests are the greenest the world has ever seen.

Are you sure?

I am absolutely sure. You know, you're always wondering why 99% of the people you meet say you're such an 'amazing person,' that 'the world needs more of you,' that you're a beautiful little anomaly. You're always asking why, why, why. You know why. How many Celebis are out there? One. You're the one.

Sounds like I'm indebted to Jem Godfrey.

Yeah, no kidding. That man played a huge part in saving you lately.

True... geez, I don't know what else to talk about.

There are way too many things to talk about. We could argue for days and not cover everything, but it's late, and you already know all the answers.

Do I?

Go find out. I'm here if you need me.

We need to talk, seriously talk, as soon as we can... I miss this. I miss being able to see like I once could.

You still can.

I know. I just... haven't been. It hurts.

Of course it hurts; your eyes aren't supposed to be that screwed up. That's what our next topic will be... you fixing yourself for good. You being reborn, so to speak.

Hence the icon.

Exactly. Now go to bed.

I find it amazingly coincidental how I have a Neoeye cake this year.

Destiny calls, boy. Destiny calls, and it is delicious.

Haha, if you say so!

 

 

 

There's a song by FROST* with this same title.
The lyrics are obviously about bearing a child, but... well, I was listening to it yesterday morning and it suddenly had an entirely new meaning for me.
Here's the explanation.


"I got the news today
Elsewhere I am dividing
Feels like my world is ending
I've made another me."

Who said individuals form solely from birth? I'm one of the unfortunate few that periodically find new faces in their mind.
Yes, I got the news; apparently I've fragmented some aspect of myself again. The last time this happened my entire world flipped upside down... I have, quite literally, made another me.

"Warm, red, barely dead
Thoughts running through my other head
Fingers twitching, muscle building
I've made me obsolete"

This holds a very, very unusual meaning for me.
The 'warm, red, barely dead' part actually refers to me... after Laurie finishes her work, that is. The 'other head' in this case is therefore (obviously) hers. She's absolutely, entirely alive up there, whether or not her fingers and muscle are physical.
My sense of 'self,' my perception of 'me,' is indeed obsolete. How many 'selves' do I have now, mind?

"Relive my life
I feel safer inside"

This makes me think of that one explodingdog comic... 'the time machine is an illusion; you must live with your regrets. Life is perfect that way.'
This is true, but some nights I still find myself staring into the mirror, overwhelmed by this horrible need to literally relive my life. I've made so many bad choices, so many mistakes... but I suppose I wouldn't have the life I do now had I not experienced them.
Regardless, I still feel safer inside. Up in my head, lost in all those other worlds... reality is frightening to me still.

"And the things I see
Hidden in the chemistry
Is there anybody I can believe?
And the eyes I see
As I face the other me
Is there anybody I can call me?"

This gets abstract for a bit. The 'things... hidden in the chemistry' makes me think of all the terrible, wonderful, mind-shaking things that ONLY they know... those other forms of me. It's frightening how much they hide. Still, everyone around me warns me of them, warns me that they lie-- and they retort that they are speaking in earnest; the psychologists and counselors and other sirens are the ones who spit falsehoods. Who in the world do I believe? Who is truly right?
As for the eyes I see... it's true. The eyes are the window to the soul, and the ones I see aren't mine.
Who am I? Seriously, who is 'me?'

"No longer this year's newest type
Superseded, absent hype
Spoilt, faded, over ripe
I'm so much older news"

Ah, my favorite line. 'This is old news.' How fitting! How often do I talk about this stuff? How much cash have I spent on medical bills surrounding my mind, thinking that there's a problem to be fixed somewhere?
The hype, the panic is gone... this is just old news now, for everyone but me.

"Evolution come around
Jury trial by ultrasound
My handiwork will hunt me down
And masquerade as me"

Evolution occurs in two ways, I laughably state-- Freud and Pokemon. I can either change slowly over a long period of time, adapting to changes and difficulties, hopefully becoming something greater... or I can instantaneously warp into a newer, stronger, maybe even better 'me' with no specific care for my surroundings.
I'm a fusion of both. I've been slowly changing since my childhood, altering this aspect and that facet, trying desperately to find a happy medium-- a final, better conclusion. All the while, though, my mind is snapping into strange new things, faces who did not exist a moment before. I am still hoping for a future but the top floor is caving in from all the angry third-stagers, so to speak... and not all of them are good.
I may not have had an ultrasound to my head, but I've had catscans, MRIs and God knows what else. 'Let's see if something's up!' Everything looks fine according to the 'jury,' it seems. The verdict is against me.
Lastly... we have my nightmare. How many times have I expressed abject terror about 'someone else driving?' I won't touch alcohol, I'm perpetually wary of drugs, even anesthesia frightens me. Anything that blurs the boundaries opens a door for someone else to step up and take the wheel.
As a child, I cannot tell you how many times I would panic over Julie somehow 'becoming' me... that apocalyptic scenario where I would be completely fine, sure... but I would be locked upstairs. She'd have full control over the physical me, masquerading as the individual most know me as. I am still terrified of that possibility.

"Relive my life
I feel safer inside"

Not to mention the fact that I also have no idea how to deal with 99% of humanity, it seems...

"Now one on one has made us three
I look away, too sick to see
Our faces staring back at me
My little Frankenstein."

When I heard that first line as I was driving, my spine froze. It's a sick sort of equation when applied to me.
See, there has never been just one 'me.' Even as a child, there was the 'me' I would physically live as, and the 'me' upstairs... but only the latter was genuine. I clearly remember sitting in class, silent from the time I walked in the door to the time the dismissal bell rang, and my mind was a nonstop whirlwind of thought. I would be called on to answer a question or state my opinion, and I would either mumble a generic reply or remain silent... all the while thinking 'that's not something you would say!' 'Why don't you just say what you mean?' It was always a battle, never truly won, never truly lost.
Then one day I woke up and someone else was up there... someone with blonde hair. One on one has made us three.
That started everything.
It makes me sick, it does. 'Our' faces are there in all of them-- my face, your face, her face-- anyone and everyone who had a hand in forming that new me. A true Frankenstein's monster; a fragment with no 'true' life, hellbent on chasing me down.

"I sit alone beside the cage
And try to fight with all my rage
End of story, turn the page
I'm not the one you want.."

Whenever someone asks me what the 'room' in my head looks like, I have no answer. To me, everything is just... white.
But it's not a cage, this strange colorless place... my tiny room of solitude, my escape from the outside. My body is. And as far as I'm concerned, I'm completely separate from it, at least in mind, sitting beside it in desperation.
I'm alone in this room sometimes, in the dark, fighting without words. Why can't I change this? Why can't she go away forever? Why can't I escape for good? Endless panic, sorrow and desperation... but the rage goes to Laurie.
My rage. That's who I'm fighting the demons with... her. And yet I'm still so paradoxically alone, so I'm told.
Either way, I can't ignore it. It's the end of the story, the end of the old me. It's time to turn the page and start something new.
I'm still not the one you want... no, not yet...
...But I know you won't stop until I am.

 

 

 

 

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH JEWEL LIGHTRAYE  LYNNE STABELLE  CHAOS ZERO  VEZERAI


 

 

Well, Laurie, here we are.

Heck yes! Let's get this done so you can finish that crazy work of yours.

It might take a while, though. I'm talking to Mel right now and praying that they're doing better.

Wait wait wait, this is about Mel? Is that what you meant? What the hell is going on?

They're... seeing bloody things. They said they feel 'toxic' and are hearing voices like me.

...Geez. That's... not good. The last thing they need is a Laurie in their head.

That's what I said. I mean-- wait, you're not a bad thing.

Only because you got to know me, boy. You remember what it was like after I got out of that mirror... I hated you. I bloody well hated you, and nothing was going to change that. Thank God I was wrong.

Do you think maybe Mel's voices are like you in that way, then?

What, in that they might actually hate Mel? There's a good chance they might. Most voices I know are like that.

Lynne's not.

Lynne and Natalie are different; they're not voices. They're fragments. Lynne is the 'adult lifestyle' and Natalie is childhood naivete; two parts of yourself you don't understand anymore. You formed them; they didn't just shove an axe through the door frame like I did.

Lynne did just show up.

Because you completely dissociated yourself from your age back then, remember? You were standing in the back of that church and you were scared out of your fractured mind. For all technical purposes you were nothing but a frightened child, faced with some unknown horror that was about to slice your stomach open.

You.

Inevitably. And that's when your lost confidence stood up to me.

That I did.

Aha, and wouldn't you know it! How are you, my old friend?

Confused, for one. I'm not sure why you want me in here.

We need help. Thought maybe you could give some.

Well, I'll do my best. Jewel, are you okay? You don't look well.

In the grand scheme of things, I'm alright. It's not me I'm worried about.

You're always like that, Jewel.

Pfhahah! She got you good!

Eh, maybe, but the point still stands. We're here because my good friend Mel might be falling into a destructive headvoice situation or the like. I want to prevent that, so I'm gathering up you guys for insight.

Ahem.

Oh, yeah. Sorry. Hold on one moment...

What you listening to?

Fat Jon. Good thinking music. I, uh... hope you don't mind.

Hello.

Hey. Nah, I've gotten used to her.

Seriously? Hah, that's a shocker!

It is!

And, um, we have a new guy.

...

Ohoho, dude. Hello there.

You're not--?

Nah, we're not here to pick your brain, boy. We just need your... expertise, how you say.

On what? I don't even know you.

Heh, lucky. Name's Laurie. I'm Jewel's superego; kind of like a chronically censorious conscience.

But I thought superegos were just psychological concepts.

Yeah, most are. I'm just a lucky concept that became personified.

Vez, I thought you were terrified of psychology?

Only when it applies to analyzing me. It's better to know what I'm up against regardless.

Good point.

Well guys, let's get to work. As you may or may not know, a beloved friend of mine is having some trouble with disturbing hallucinations and headvoices. The last thing I want is for them to go through something like my 2008, so I hoped that we could work out a plan of action, or even just some advice as to what they or I should do.

What are you hoping for though, love? We can't exactly quiet their own voices.

No, but maybe we can help them manage them. You all know what Laurie was like before I befriended her.

I do indeed.

Heh...

Laurie's the... purple one, right?

Yeah, that's me. I used to be a throat-slicing, skull-splitting scourge.

Oh.

She still is sometimes.

True, but at least she's not inherently malicious now. She used to function purely on violent vengeance and hate. I don't know what's driving Mel's voices, if anything, but if it's as negative as that then I need to help them face those voices.

Can you, though? There's not much we can do outside of their own mind.

It's better to try than to just stand around helplessly.

Jewel's right. I would have never, ever stabilized if I didn't have others helping me.

You think Mel needs a Dev or a Prelude to help?

Well, I daresay Q's their peace-bringer already... I don't know if I'd fit Dev's role though.

That person's not like me; that's not going to work. They need their own people. Not mine.

Vez, don't panic. I'm just using it as an example. I apologize.

You don't know what Mel needs.

I'm trying to figure that out, Lynne.

Can you? Should you?

Please, Lynne, don't shoot me down here. I'm desperate already.

I'm not shooting you down, Jewel. I'm just trying to be logical. Your solutions may not be their solutions by a long shot.

Alright, excuse me Lynne, but shut up.

What?

Just shut up, okay? My boy's breaking his heart over this and all you can say is 'this might not work at all!' We bloody KNOW that, alright? We're just trying our best in spite of it, because hell, we might succeed after all. If you're going to drag us down, you can just as easily get up and leave.

I'm not trying to offend anyone, but I'm sorry if you took it that way.

Ffh.

Guys, let's back this up. Jewel, just be there for Mel if nothing else.

I am, I am... but after I almost lost Dori TWICE when I could have done something, I am not going to risk losing Mel to a hell I've barely survived myself, so help me God.

I don't blame you.

I understand. I just want you to realize that this may be entirely out of our hands.

I'm still going to take a shot. I have to. I care too much.

Mm... In that case, I'll support you without further comment. I have to admire your determination.

Geez Lynne, when did you get so... I don't know, Vulcan-esque?

I have to be the voice of reason. Jewel and Laurie are both incredibly volatile.

Doesn't mean you have to be so bloody emotionless about it.

Laurie, I-- I'm just speaking the truth.

Whatever.

Lynne, don't let her bug you. I appreciate your warning and I know it's true, but Laurie's being just as honest. We're taking this chance.

What are we doing first then? What do you need my 'expertise' for?

Well Vez, you've been through more than all of us combined, and personally I find that you and I are creepily alike sometimes.

Uh-huh.

So maybe you'd understand the hallucinating and hearing voices.

I don't hear voices, Jewel, you do. And I only hallucinate because of my PTSD.

Yeah, but I have no idea what that's like.

It's awful.

I imagine it would be..

You know what? You were saying something about Mel seeing 'bloody things.' The hell does that mean?

From what I gather, they're hitting edges of a 'Johnny phase' here and there.

Oh geez. In that case, Jewel, I don't think any of us are going to be much help. You're the only one of us with doughboys and nailbunnies.

What's a 'Johnny phase?'

It's my term for a phase when one becomes uncharacteristically violent or 'unhinged.' You remember I was in one of those for a long time in 2008.

Is that when you started absorbing Laurie?

It sure is. That was a living hell. I swear, if you do that again--

Cross my heart, Laur, I won't. I'm over the phases... I just don't want Mel to fall into one.

How do we stop that though? Like I said, Jewel, you're the only one who knows what that's like.

I have... 'phases.'

Oh dude, he's right. Heck, I AM a 'phase'! And Chaos--

I get it, I get it.

So all your 'Johnny phases' are caused by personalities other than yourself?

That seems to be the gist of it, yes.

Is that what you think Mel is dealing with?

I don't know. Maybe. Even if they don't have any 'personalities' in their mind, they could have something on the verge of turning into one. They said so themself, that the voices they hear are becoming 'more than voices' now. Maybe we can stop that, like we stopped that weird red voice that attacked me with a razor that one time, thanks to those being huge triggers.

I remember that.
 
I bloody HATED her.

What was she supposed to represent, anyway?

I think mania, like Jessica used to be depression. They're both dead now though.

So are Brianne and Missy.

Brittany, Bridget, whatever the hell she decided her name was at the moment. Haven't seen the queen bitch very often lately either, thank GOD.

I'm fighting her nonstop, Laur.

I don't understand why you still need to fight her. I thought she had nothing left to fight you with?

Oh, she finds ways. She's trying to use my kids now.

What?

Yeah, she stopped the doppelganger thing and is now creating awful false scenarios with my kids. I ignore her but I can't ignore what she's doing.

All right, that is way out of line.

It's straight-up demonic. Next time I see her she is losing her whorish face.

Calm down about that for now guys, please. I'm winning against her now and the Care Bear army is helping too. She's still my #1 problem, but this isn't about me. This is about keeping a friend from being trapped in something like this.

True... I'm still shaking, though.

Sweetheart, I'll stop her. Don't lose it.

I'll try.

Give me something else to think about, please. I'm absolutely seething right now.

Well, I figure I should currently focus on helping Mel keep those voices quiet, however that's possible. I don't know. Lynne, I know this isn't completely out of my hands, but it's tough.

I understand.

That's kind of why I called you all here. I don't know what to do, and I'm desperate. I just want to help Mel.

If you need me for anything you can always ask.

Thanks, Vez.

I heard something about a fox?

...Yeah, Mel's seeing this fox with a top hat. I think he might be the key to this, especially because he apparently hasn't quit even when Mel said the other hallucinations/etc. have died down.

Why, do you think he's the 'headvoice' behind the phases?

I have no idea. It scares me, though, because Mel said that he "knows how to solve this, but he enjoys seeing my pain." That made me think of the old Laurie.

...Yeah, you're right.

If Mel knows the fox can solve this, maybe they just need to talk to him.

It's not that easy, though. He's constantly running from them and mocking them. They haven't been able to even come near to catching him.

That's not good at all.

I know... Laurie was at least right there, close enough to touch if she wasn't busy burying an axe in my face.

That fox is definitely one of us, though. How do you catch a fox?

You set traps.

But how do you trap a fox you can't even get close to?

Send something faster after it?

Maybe. Just maybe.

That could potentially make things much worse.

That's why we need to be careful. Mel isn't me; we may be similar but their situation here is still different in it's own important ways.

But Mel still needs to catch that bloody fox.

You think so?

Lynne, it's the only option I can think of. If it knows the answers, hunt it down and make it talk.

Resorting to violence might not be the best plan of action, Laurie..

Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.

What do you think it knows?

Only Mel knows that.

Geez this is frustrating. We're going in freakin' loops.

I think we should leave it be for now, Jewel. Tell Mel what we think and let them make the decisions for themself. Ultimately, they're the only one who can conquer their problems.

True, but remember how Q helped me, and how Dev helped Vez. Without a major force of beneficial interest standing by, the fight's going to be a heck of a lot harder, maybe even impossible.

Mel doesn't have to worry about that, then.

No, thank God. They have Q and I, and hopefully others that they may not have even realized are there yet.

Guess that's all we can do for today, then.

I'm sorry I couldn't help much.

Vez, don't say that. You were a huge help.

Yeah man, you hit on some serious points. Jewel knew what he was doing bringing you here.

...Thank you.

Speaking of, thank you too, Lynne. I apologize for that mess that went on earlier.

Don't be sorry; it was my fault as well. I should have been more considerate.

Hey, at least it all worked out okay in the end.

You are such a crazy optimist.

I try.

This conversation over then?

I suppose so, why?

You have work to do, boy!

Oh geez you're right I do.

Haha, what in the world is on your to-do list now?

Jewel Monster element/attribute cataloguing. It's a LOT of work but it's awesome.

And if you don't get the hell to it I swear I will hire Revenge to do my job.

Don't hire him, he's evil.

You're being unusually pushy about Jewel's work today, Laurie. Any reasons?

Yeah, it's my bloody job to make him feel guilty for slacking off HIS job. Get to work!

I have to admit, Laurie is right. You do need to make a lot of progress on your series yet.

Part Twelve.

Pfhahahaha!

All right, all right, I'll get off and get to work. Thanks for helping, you guys.

You're welcome.

I'm glad I was able to help. I admit I miss being part of this group.

You know you do!

I, um... I love you, Chaos.

I love you too, you crazy kid. Get some sleep tonight, alright?

Yeah, you rocked out enough yesterday. Screwed up my entire freaking schedule.

Sorry.

Weren't we supposed to finish this way back there...?

Yes.

Sorry.

You guys are the worst at finishing conversations.

Okay then, you close this one up.

Already did!

 

 

Dear God, she tried to overdose yesterday. Where was I?? Why can I never be there?

Unrequited love hurts like hell.

"Chaos, I'm scared."
"I know," he said quietly. It wasn't condescending... it was compassionate.
He truly knew, better than anyone.

The faint remnants of a Newport cigarette are caught in my shirt-threads. I find myself caught up in smoke every time I enter my father's apartment; the air is thick with memories of better days, of hours spent in spray booths with an old Cadillac and checkerboard tape, of driving through town with Todd Rundgren on the radio. It's the only connection I have to the times I've lost.. this sad, grey scent of nostalgia.

 

 
I've never been able to make up my mind as to whether I like or dislike computers.
On one hand, they allow me to compose music, record thoughts, create art, find knowledge, meet other souls... they're a window to the minds of individuals across the world who I would have otherwise never met.
On the other hand... they replace my reality with their own.
 
I was walking across campus today, my Celebi plush swinging on my bookbag, when I realized that I wasn't paying attention. I was mindlessly trudging through the frost-tinted air without even thinking about that cold sting on my eyelids.
I was looking down.
 
See, we tend to take reality for granted nowadays, what with our constant connection to technology. We're often either talking into our cell phones, chilling to our iPods, driving through Liberty City on our PSPs or wondering what tonight's episode of House is going to be like. It's pretty ridiculous if you think about it.
The point is, though, that in doing so, we forget what else there is around us.
I realized that as I was walking. I was thinking about what music I'd have to write next, when I happened to look up and catch a glimpse of the skyline on a nearby mountain... the firefly-like sparkles of a distant city. Walking with my eyes glued to the sidewalk, my thoughts on FL Studio, I would never have seen it.
 
I guess that's my challenge to all of you this week, as well as to myself.
Just... take a break from all the wires and circuitboards, okay? Take out the earbuds and just listen to the world for a while. Take in the voices around you, the sounds you don't regularly notice.
The clunking of the keyboard, the ambient rush of 20 computer towers, the low hum of the lights and the faraway snaps of doors from the hallway... just making yourself concentrate on those outside sounds immediately heightens your awareness of the world beyond the pixels.
 
I also honestly think about the colors...the sandy pink walls, the stoic black monitors, the bright red of my bookbag. We take them for granted too.
Walking outside, the stunning contrast of the deep blue shadows against the orange streetlights took my breath away. Forget HD television; you just can't get that sort of experience on liquid crystal.
 
One of my LG*Girls, Tiffany, has the 'power of the senses'. Not fire, not time, not sound... she just uses the 5 senses. It may sound mediocre at first, but when you think about it, it has a ton of potential.
How often do we pay attention to those sense of ours? How often do we feel the texture of the sidewalks under our sneakers, of the keys under our fingertips? How often do we notice the scent of a winter night? When we sit back with a mint tea or what have you, do we just chug it down or do we actually enjoy it?
People are born blind, deaf, dumb... they never get to experience what we do.
Will we only truly treasure what we once had when we wake up one day and it's suddenly gone?
 
It's hilarious, in a sad way. It really is. I'm so guilty of rushing through the day, not paying attention to anything but my schedule and the deadlines baring their fangs at me. It would only have taken a second to really appreciate the beauty of the hillsides as I drove past them, but no; my eyes were on automatic as my mind spun with worries. We pull into our driveways at the end of the day without even remembering how we got there.
We rush through classes, through workdays, through holidays, barely giving a thought to how blessed we are to have an education... a job... a family... we kiss our children good night and take their freckles for granted.
Parents buy their kids computers for their seventh birthdays and they don't even get to enjoy their childhood.
We're slowly becoming disconnected from our world, especially in the little ways, and that's sad.
 
 
As a kid, my favorite pastime (outside of drawing) was exploration.
Even today, there is nothing more exciting to me than finding something new... seeing it, feeling it, experiencing something I'd never experienced before.
I attended a music camp when I was about 11 years old, at a local university in Scranton. I would make excuses to go to the restroom during exercises so I could wander the halls alone, so I could sneak up the back stairwell and see what the elusive third floor looked like. I would skip the sidewalks and wander through the grassy lawns instead, laughing at the exhilaration of going against monotony.
In high school I still had the same need to wander. The best day of those 4 years, to me, remains the morning I forgot what room my health class was in, and instead spend an entire half hour walking through the hallways... just wandering past the lockers and staring out the windows with bright eyes.
Just two days ago, in this very building, I had a break between classes and took that as an opportunity to wander the bottom floor. I discovered a back stairwell with an extra set of downward stairs, and took it without a second thought-- suddenly finding myself in the creepiest laboratory section of a building I had ever seen. I'll tell you right now, unless you want to take the back doors or the elevator hidden around the corner, those stairs were the only way down! I ran back up them, but couldn't help but grin.
Look at that... something new.
 
Even now I'm surrounded by new things, right here in the empty computer lab. I had never even realized that the chairs were navy blue until today. How sad is that?
Being the only one in this little corner of the building right now... it's bliss, man. I'm free from biased expectations, free from the panic of deadlines, even if just for a little while.
I can't take that for granted either, though.
As soon as I walk through the kitchen doorway and into the familiar sounds of my home, I'll immediately be thrown back into the rush of day-to-day life... and that's okay. That's okay, because it needs to be done.
But for now, I have a little fragment of time, a little bubble of peace, all to myself. God's given me a break to just sit back, and He knows I needed it.
In a few minutes, I'll be back out under the shadowy treetops, walking up the hill and sneaking a glimpse of the empty art rooms through their glassy windows as I pass by. I'll start my car, listen to the engine rumble, and set off on my way through town for that 30-minute drive home...and I'll enjoy every second of it.
 
Sure, it's nice to be typing in silence at 6:30 in the evening, but if you'll excuse me, I'd rather be outside.