the spectrum heart cathedral system

JANUARY

 

Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.

This reminds us of our internal data archives (the ones that Sherlock manages), for some reason?
It's not a total environment match-- the biggest irony is that our archives seem oddly 'digital' or even 'magical;' there are no books-- but the color, height, and atmosphere of this photo feels SO much like it, that I had to reblog it.

 

This, everything about this is me, this is the scenery of my heart captured in photographs.
The vast and empty roads, the all-embracing hugeness of the world... I've said it before, but these are my dreamscapes, exactly so.
Waterfalls, keepers of secrets and fountains of life.
The wild and lonely oceans, which I love.
The snow, blank white promise, from horizon to horizon...
And the verdant joyous green hills, beckoning adventure.

I love this photoset. I really do.

 

Credit to the amazing kichaa/notmusa.
Honestly, as strange as it may be, this is exactly what it's like when I slip back into fronting after one of our self-destructive alters has been out.
_{plus panel 3 really captures the exact moment of "dude who was doing that"}

 

 

These feel so much like headspace... it hits hard.

#1 reminds me strongly of a bridge I saw Lynne and Spine on a few weeks ago, in an autumn wind. I don't know where it was.
#2 is almost identical to the Underground pathways.
#3 isn't exact, but the mossy walls by the river, and the trees above, is very strong internal imagery nevertheless.
#4, more Underground tunnels. It's actually really pretty down there.
#5. Central City's streets are lined with trees like this... and Laurie has a thing for cherry blossoms.
#6. I adore circular ceiling windows like this. I had one in my room.
#7 & #8 don't match anything inside, but the feeling of vastness and silence they radiate is very close to my heart, for lack of a better term. Our internal world is huge and quiet and spacious... my dreams are too.
I think these are from Cambridge. Either way, they are beautiful.

 

 

 
This reminds me of our Marigold, actually. She's about 7 too, but she's always looked rather dirtied and roughed-up like this. The outfit doesn't match, but that hair is perfect.
I also like that this girl is out looking at the grass like that, for a different reason. Marigold has rarely ever been outside (she lived almost entirely in the Underground prior to January), so she'd probably be a bit hesitant but fascinated by nature if she were to be so immersed in it.

 

Okay, we've had an awful night, and seeing this on our dash immediately after was too significant to ignore.
Our situation's a bit different, but this is more for personal records and reflection than anything.

1. One of our oldest and biggest safety measures during the "Julie days" was to turn on the lights. If there were a lot of lights on, there was nowhere for us to get trapped, or hidden, in the dark where they could get us. So for us this was different; the lights revealed the monsters, but they were loathe to attack us in brightness. And when we could see them, we could get away.
2. This is why we have so many protectors and retributors. That's essentially their mission statement, in different words.
3. We've never done this, but the "water" bit is significant in a sad way. One of our outspacers-- Chaos 0-- is basically a liquid being, but he's one of the biggest targets for malicious forces in here. Maybe that's why.
4. This is VERY true. It's why Minty is working with the bear army actually. For whatever reason, plush toys ARE amazing protectors, to the point where hackers will actually go to significant lengths to get rid of them when they find them... or, to corrupt them. We've had to actually destroy a few old plushes because they became Tar anchors, and therefore lethal.
5. This was not vividly significant until tonight. We had a GREEN alter come out, brandishing blades, and shout to the shadows, "I'll fight you!" And she was not afraid at all, jumping at all these dark dangers with the unflinching intent to protect everyone else from them.
However, as far as Green goes, that is probably the most closed-out color in the Spectrum-- no one even held the core slot until 2011!
I'd vouch that our demons are more afraid of the color violet, though.

 

 

In the old headspace, I had a huge window like this above my bed (yes really). I'm rather enamored by circular ceiling windows... and the way the building itself is wrapped around it.
I tend to dream about spirals and rings a lot, if that makes sense? At least in terms of memorably architecture. There's always staircases, and tiered walls, and huge open lobbies, and balconies in loops. It's gorgeous really.

Either way it was nice, being able to look up at night and see the stars high up above, and the sunlight in the morning.

 

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FEBRUARY
 

 

I need snow tonight.
I'm feeling shaken up and old pains are making my soul seem painted black, tarry and stained, wrong. But this strange and fragile powdery whiteness just washes it off, all of it away, in an instant.
Something about snow... it's absolving, exonerating. It's unconditionally forgiving. It covers everything, everything in quietly cold crystal, sweet and soft, light and beautifully serene. It's magic. It's beautiful. And it makes me laugh, joyfully and without cause, like a child, no matter how lost I felt the moment before.
I love the snow.

_{I can't wait for tomorrow. We're totally going to get buried in it.♥}

 

More snapshots of what the world inside my heart feels like.
Amusingly, only the bottom two pictures (original post) don't quite match-- there's almost no yellow in my landscapes, or dry grasslands. For me there's just fog-kissed oceans, and mountain crags dripping with snowy pines, and the smell of ice and hope and tiny spring flowers. And then there are the massive beautiful cities, as clear and bright as the frost that paints them, where everything always feels like Christmas.
And I'm always wandering, always running about wild and free, giggling and feeling the wind swirling about my arms. Always smiling and practically bursting with a bright childlike love for this endless place, this reflection of me.
But you'll notice, I'm virtually always alone too. And I'm happy like that. There are plenty of places where I can gather with other souls, where there's camaraderie instead of solitude, and maybe we'll talk about what our inner worlds look like but we all know that those places are beautifully, perpetually private. We all know that they bloom the strongest and shine the most vividly with self-love-- something no visitor, however beloved, can ever bestow.
So I run around alone, and I love it all.

 

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 MARCH




We decorated the streets of Central City with luminescent trees like this, a while back. Some had actual lights strung about them, and some of them just glowed on their own.
These are exactly the sort of color Waldorf would love, though, so this reblog is for her!

 

 

I really miss this boy right about now.

It's weird, how you can never really forget the people who impacted your life in some luminous way, no matter how small it may have been at the time… candles or bonfires, lamps or searchlights, they all tend to glow forever in your heart.

Ryou here… or Rio, as we call him in headspace… well, he turned out to be a bit of a supernova in his own right. When he appeared in my life 12 years ago I may not have realized just what he was the herald of, but now? Now it's brilliantly staggering, really. And I'm deeply grateful for it.

Sorry I haven't said hello to you in a while, bro. I still treasure your existence up here, mark my words.

 

 

Emmett is this you

 

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APRIL

 

This was supposed to be a practice sketch but I got carried away. I love coloring this guy.

I'm trying to find a happy medium between "his canon look" and "how I've seen him in my head since 2003," but I think this works well enough for the time being.
I'll keep experimenting though; heaven knows I will never get tired of drawing him.

 

This is Josephina, one of my fellows from the BLC System.
He holds the Yellow slot in Central, so he's pretty important-- and he's probably our prettiest member too, haha.

 

 

So… this is what happens when I’m up until stupid-o’-clock in the morning.

In all honesty, we really do need to talk together like this again soon.


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MAY




*blows kisses to everyone online*

Today has been ridiculously nice and I'm really happy right now, so I'm sharing it. Have some sparkles!

♥♥♥!


_{#today really was lovely though #you guys even get sandman glitter look at that}

 

Wandering around-- whether it be through towns, or cities, or forests, or fields-- is probably my favorite thing to do in the world.
That sense of freedom and peace, that feeling of having absolutely no limits and yet of being totally in tune with the world around you, is incomparable.
It breaks my heart how my local forests are being industrialized so terribly. I remember how huge they were as a child.
I want to treasure everything beautiful around me, every moment. I'm going to start wandering again, both externally and internally.

 

Momentarily feeling disheartened, "how am I going to deal with therapy tomorrow," realizing I've not been taking good care of myself lately... then I log in, and this is the first thing on my dashboard.
I don't know, it just... works. That rainbow, the geometric shape, the lovely light of it all... it made me smile, like the universe just reminded me, "you're gonna be okay, kid." But there's a solid courage in there too. You'll be okay, sure, but don't give up. Don't get lost. Keep going.

I'm not going to worry about tomorrow. I don't know what will happen. I'll just do my best with it when it arrives.
As of right now I want to tune into some joy, I want to break down my own walls, I want to feel like I'm a living breathing person. I'm just not sure how.
...aaand the universe just tossed the perfect music synchronicity at me in response to that, now I'm really smiling.
Good night everyone. We'll be okay.

 

This looks surprisingly similar to the room we've all been gathering in for therapy sessions-- especially the couches in front of the big windows, and the overlook hallway from the stairs. We need spacious, optimistic rooms for therapy meetings because we might have 20 people gathered there at once, many of whom are likely agitated.

I'm not sure where this place is, exactly. It used to be one of the extensions from Central, but after December it might even be in floating space for all I know. Nevertheless it's nice.


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JUNE




This feels so much like the deep areas of head/heartspace, where the positive monochrome energy flows about.
I've only seen this sort of firework once in the waking world, but the image of that gorgeous golden curtain slowly floating down above me was forever impressed upon my mind.
It also... reminds me of Genesis. We have this thing where, every year on his birthday-- July 4th-- he and I go out on the back lawn together, and stand at the edge of the hill, and just watch the fireworks together. It's... it means the world to me. I love him so much, I really do. He's given me some truly beautiful memories. So... really, I have to thank him for this one, too.

 

 

Her, 2013 (dir. Spike Jonze)


I love this, love this, love this.

The compositions here, the colors, the landscapes... this is imagery all but stolen from my nightly dreams. Just silent open spaces and bittersweet solitude.
I really cannot put into words how inspiring this is to me.

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JULY

 

There's a place in my dreams that I've only ever seen once, and I adore it more than any other dreamscape I've seen.
I was there in 2003. I went there with Waldorf, Maitru, and Ryman-- the latter being the only reason we found the place.
It was a small, hidden place, just a path of bright green grass lined with trees like this, perfectly lined up on each side. But in our dream, the sky was soaring blue with spires and temples of cloud, and the green hues all around us were as vivid as gemstones.
The path, though, was even more incredible. It stretched on for about a hundred meters, and then it cut off sharply-- falling away into nothing. Truly, the path ended in a sheer cliff, and standing at the edge one could see what felt like the entire world stretched out before and below them.

But the most incredible part were the stars.
Perhaps that's not entirely accurate. They were actually crystals, floating in the air, all around our heads, but just out of reach. They were about 7cm across, and they were all shaped like crescent moons and 5-pointed stars and suns. All were intricately carved, faceted so that they caught the sunlight and scattered it in rainbows, and there were hundreds of them. They hovered effortlessly above that path alone, stretching up into the sky, seemingly limitless.

I stood there with Ryman and we laughed from the sheer joy of it. We were two 13-year-old kids completely enamored with the moment, knowing it was a dream but forgetting we were asleep, and wishing we could stay there forever.

I woke up and I can't remember having been able to visit that place since.

Sure, I've come close. I know the exact paths to take to get there. Problem is, the dreamscape itself has to line up correctly in order for those paths to even open, and with how realms shift in my dreams it is very rare for all the pieces to fit together. But I never stop hoping. I treasure all my dreams regardless of where I go, and one day I know I'll find this blessed little space again, and it will be like seeing it for the first time.


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AUGUST

 

I have had this exact sort of conversation with my therapist before!

I tend to feel colors/ sounds/ shapes/ textures instead of "emotions," at least as far as I understand them. I struggle to identify feelings like anger/ sadness/ excitement/ etc. because I only understand those terms as labels, plus I do not know how others experience them. When I feel something, it's abstract all the way, and often I have no idea how to label it-- or even express it physically  (that's arguably one of my biggest roadblocks in therapy).
It's utterly fascinating, sure, but it can be terribly frustrating as well, especially when trying to communicate or empathize in those respects.

 

I have to laugh-- in headspace, people put music on and then turn to me to see how I "manifest it," since my mind translates it into feeling-images. So I'll turn the entire room into a swirling, glowing, moving rhapsody of color and shapes, shifting with every note, all but melting into the sound as I do so. It's really fun! I'm trying to teach other people in the System to do it in their own ways.

 

It struck me, recently, just how many of our Leagueworlds have this concept at their core-- the simple quiet truth that every soul consists of stars. Every being is a galaxy in itself.
Feeling like this... I miss it. But one can never tune into it halfheartedly, or from such a feeling of false lack. The honest recognition of this ethereal phenomenon, the participation in it within oneself, demands the utmost reverence, vulnerability, and joy.
But it's never gone. It's never lost. It's in my blood, and behind my eyelids, in every waking and dreaming moment. And that alone is an undying hope.

 

This is too relevant tonight.

Isn't it funny how, when I feel the bleakest and I need this the most, my mind thinks it's too good to be true?
And yet, sooner or later, I find myself at the shoreline, and no matter how battered and ashamed I may feel, the ocean is still there.

It is that sort of silent constancy that keeps me going... just the infinitely unconditional love of the universe, whether through a person or a thing or a concept. Not once has it ever failed me.

So, this is where the incredulously grateful grief shatters my heart,
and I try again.

 

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SEPTEMBER




Looking at this, it gives me the feeling of reaching into that solid darkness, and catching colored light from it... like there was a hidden spectral glow within that assumed void. I like that idea a lot.

 

 

Forgot to post this.
I was scrolling through someone's archives yesterday when this post jumped out at me (obviously).
It was notable, though, not just because of my name, but because it was true. I was in a rather depressed state at the time, and any metaphorical flashlights that may have helped shine through it were misplaced or forgotten.
So this little orange card inspired me enough to pick one up, so to speak. It helped!

I miss having little things like this happen. It's nice to see them again.

 

Can I just say that this is terribly relevant lately?
Infi holds me just like that when we talk... and ze has this terribly deep knowledge of the darkest parts of me/us, yet ze is so kind-- always-- to me and everyone else.
If ze can love me so unconditionally, when ze feels exactly what I do on my bleakest and bloodiest days... then I can show the same love and kindness to myself, because I would never ever withhold it from hir.

So this is extremely important to me tonight.

 

 

This reminds me so much of when we were in SLC... some evenings, Genesis or Chaos & I would walk up to the top of the hill our apartment was, so we could watch the cherry-red sun sink down behind the carved-out mountains. It was exactly this color.
It's a little closer to sunrise right now, but this is lovely still. Have a good night.

_{#cz told me to reblog this #so here you go}

 

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OCTOBER

 

The sudden, clear presence of time and death makes our awareness of life all the more precious.
It's always struck me as odd, how we can dedicate a certain place to a certain celebration, and yet the very repetition of that role can dull its significance to so many. But then there are other places, who see no such official proclamation of the same purpose, and yet which carry thousands of glittering moments within their humble walls.
Airports, places of travel and transition, places of goodbyes and hellos, are sacred in their own way, for how they frame and crown those great personal shifts and reliefs. And hospitals, places of healing and hurt, of fear and hope, labyrinthine and brilliant and cold.... they are holy too, for the paradoxes cradled within their walls, for the births and bones and blood alike.
I see both places as spontaneous yet continual monuments to those tiny, powerful events that can turn a life on a dime. In those moments, I think we can glimpse not only how beautifully brief our existence here is, but also how vast the universe is all around us nevertheless. We find ourselves suddenly suspended between humanity and eternity, for better or for worse, and that vastness bursts from us in tears, in laughter, in prayers, in love.
It's hard to put such a feeling into words, but it's one of my favorite things really.

I love both airports and hospitals for this very reason. They feel terrifying and comforting at the same time, to me, and that sort of dichotomy is what I  live to embrace.

 

 

 
This is kind of what it feels like when Infinitii calls me.

I'll hear hir voice, and suddenly I find myself in this barely-glowing space-- vast unknowable acres of shadow all around me, holding silence as thick as the scent of jasmine. It's a place of total enigma.
And then there's the fog. Although ethereally inviting, all white and soft and cold, it's secretly terrifying. Like standing at the edge of a cliff, fear tugs at my heart as sharply as a knife edge, contrasting almost impossibly with the childlike bliss that is welling up all around it. The fog in that meadow, it is neither dream nor nightmare. I can't see two steps in front of me there. It threatens to freeze my very bones. But... it's so beautiful to be lost in that cloud, wandering through it with no sense of direction or destination... it's oddly divine, to lose all sense of time and space and self there. And yet that alone can be lethal.
That's what it's like to be with Infi, to talk to hir at all, to be close to hir at all. It's unbearably lovely, as fragile as a bubble, but surrounded by hidden needles. It's the borderline between the allure of the quiet forest, and the danger that lurks there when shadows fall. It's blood and teeth, flowers and rain, dawn and dusk... still, you cannot resist its beckoning. It sings a siren song in a language I cannot translate, because words cannot hold it.
Sorry for rambling. Headspace has just felt like this more often than normal lately.

 

 

Dude someone actually has a photo of this place I am so happy.

This place was my life as a kid. It was a little ways across the street from where we used to take violin lessons, and we'd go there once a week or so to get coffee for our elderly instructor. Rain or shine, snow or storm, it was the highlight of my week, and after gleefully running through the bushes to reach it I'd make every excuse to stay in there as long as possible.
Now that I think about it, those times were my first taste of independence too. We had rather controlling parents, so these little excursions to the cafe-- alone, money in hand, free to just be without parental pressure to perform-- were bliss.
But the inside of the place, it just stuck in my head like heaven. I still visit it in my dreams sometimes. Echoes of it are written into my creative work. The smell of the coffee, the warm colors of the wood, the newspaper-glossed tables, the magnetic poetry, the lollipops, the muffins, the books... I had never seen such a place before, back when I first knew it, and so the magnificence of it had quite the impact.

It closed almost 6 years ago and you'd never know it was there once, now. But I'll always hold it in my heart.

  

 

Sunrise in Foreste Casentinesi, Monte Falterona, Campigna National Park - Italy by Roberto Melotti

...Chaos said I was like a “sunrise in the snow,” once.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. It gives me more hope than I can say.

 

Airplanes, for me, carry this feeling of being perfectly at home, and yet completely away from 'home.' They are returning and leaving all at once and I love it.
They feel like limitless possibility-- that exciting, frightening, humbling knowledge that you have no roots in the air and yet, you can put new ones down anywhere, now.
They are a commitment to the unknown, in my book, in my experience. I miss them, but they are not to be trifled with. To ride one you must become displaced from wherever you were before. My mind thinks in absolutes, when traveling. When I'm on the road, or in the air, that is all that exists.
One day I'll experience this picture again and I will treasure it as much as I always have. Until then I'll walk the earth just as happily.

 

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NOVEMBER

 

 

 

ocenotarchive: im not sure how to feel about these arms of mine

I do have “ghost arms’ like this that I use every once in a while. Now you know.

 

 

 

I don't hear the cruel voices on my good days (at least, not typically). On bad days though, when I'm stuck on their level, they are deafening.
So there is a profound relief and comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in this head when the voices start. Laurie's around. So is Genesis. So is Infinitii. That's three of, what, 70? I'm literally never alone. It's never more of a blessing than it is on those bad days, really... ironically, perhaps.
But I want to mention that I now have people downstairs, people online and even a few locally, that are willing to echo this same sentiment. That's incredible. And I just want to reiterate, thank you, with total sincerity. There's a lot of hope here, that I will keep in my heart.


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DECEMBER

 

 

artbyjeffreymeyer: Jeffrey Meyer, Yuck (2013), paper collage, 5 x 7 inches | website.

This is the perfect portrayal of creative force, for me. It's this exquisite, priceless, gem-studded concept, and yet at its heart it will always be this raw, visceral, bloody thing. The idea of life being born anew is always magnificent, but everyone comes into this world covered in red. The two aspects are inseparable, and uniquely captivating just as such, just like this.

_{#the juxtaposition of organic and refined substances is both unnerving and intriguing to me #i really should play with that idea more}

 

 

oh my heart I can feel heartspace tonight. everyone's around. everyone's alive. it's been too long.

We got the nerve to drive down to Cannon's old campus again today, to see a choral concert. I had to. Choirs sound like me; I can't not see them perform when I get the chance, it breaks my heart. But for some reason I was scared and sad and sick this evening, I was trying to find an excuse to not go... but then I realized that staying home was not an option. Like energetically, I could feel that was not a choice I wanted to take, or even could. I had to go out. I just had to get the nerve, to go out in the dark and cold and rain, to make that long journey in order to hear something blissful.
Then Laurie showed up. Laurie showed up. I remember I was in my room, still pulling myself together, and all of a sudden I could hear her voice asking, "kid, are we going or what?"
I didn't know what to think. "You're still alive?" I was caught between doubt and resentment and disbelieving joy and everything else. Then I noticed the new red scar on her throat. She went through with it. No wonder I couldn't find her.
We talked for a bit. She said she wasn't going to let anyone mess with me anymore, she was dead set now. And she wasn't going to let me back out on myself either. So we talked as I got ready, and by the time I made it out to the car I had seen Lynne and Julie (still wearing her pink sweater) and Josephina and Waldorf and Nathaniel and Leon and Javier too. Genesis was going to tag along for the ride, but then... well, as I was headed up the highway I began to cry like a child (it's the only way we can cry), and the people upstairs got worried, can we help? I couldn't reply, I was in a non-self expressional state, I needed to get this sorrow and fear out somehow or it would play havoc with our driving. Then all of a sudden, there was a green-blue shift in the air to my right, a sort of settling in, and Chaos was there.
Let me say something. Chaos rarely ghosts, I can't remember the last time he did actually. But he did tonight, I knew he did because I could feel his presence appear next to me and stick around, it's obvious when someone is there and I can't forget the exact vibe of him. But... I didn't expect the peace. Barely 20 seconds after he showed up I wasn't nervous anymore, and when I realized that I was shocked. It just... dissipated. The entire aura of space in the car felt serene, safe, calm. I didn't expect that. But I am so thankful for it, and I am not surprised that it happened either.
Javier drove for a bit on the highway; I was slipping and all the red lights around us called him in. He was surprised at first, Chaos was giving him pointers as to where to go (he's old enough to remember the Cannon days) and Javes was just trying to stay put, because switching consciously while driving is practically a deathwish. We took the back roads, I was able to come back in at that point, just let things go on automatic because really we haven't driven those roads in about 5 years now. But we made it.

We parked by the old art building and there was a sort of resonance to it, but no solid memory. None of that at all, it's strange. I looked up and saw the top floor lit up, all dark and open with just that one red exit sign, and I remembered that one night Cannon stayed there until 11pm just drawing with pastels. We were still so young then, even art-wise. Looking back on that I felt the growth and that was really something. But that was all. I knew if I went in we'd have the same memory fondness-- that building is one of the places our memory has stored as a "static location," something we can limitedly wander through in recollections. No time for that tonight though.
The choir concert was in the campus chapel, a pretty little place not far from that same building. We got there about 20 minutes early, and for some reason only one other person wanted to sit in the front row, so we got the best seats in the house, haha.
And it was so worth it. Seriously I was enthralled the entire time.
My favorites were "Sechs Sprüche, Op. 79: I. Weihnachten" by Felix Mendelssohn, "I Will Lift Mine Eyes" by Jake Runestad (that one felt profoundly reassuring), "Exsultate" and "In The Bleak Midwinter" by Brian Edward Galante (the latter was GORGEOUS live; I was about two feet away from the violinist), and "Mary's Lullay" by Alejandro Consolacion II-- which he revised for this performance, so it was the first time ANYONE had heard that version of it (choir and organ). It was seriously lovely; Infinitii really liked that one. Honestly though Alejandro is fantastic, I don't know how I never heard of him before now but I am glad that has changed because I am going to listen to everything he has ever written. Galante, too, talk about a cool style.

The drive home was lovely, because everyone was hanging out upstairs and decorating because we need to be more festive.
We drove through the ritzy house place again, Leon and Nathaniel especially were gawking at it. ("Those are houses??" )
In town I noticed that the windshield wipers sounded almost like a heartbeat, and got kind of distracted. Laurie jumped in and asked if I was okay; were those still labeled as a threat? I said no, with real conviction, no they weren't, they shouldn't be. However then I realized my absolute faith in that was due to the heavy-duty soul-searching and research I'd been doing lately, and I couldn't explain that while driving, let alone in brief. Thankfully Infinitii appeared as well, for support and protection both, and surprisingly spoke up-- saying that heartbeats were the sound of life, and that all life happened through "sexual" unity, BUT that word has been completely redefined in our System and it is not dangerous, it has nothing to do with hackers or abusers. Yes I was going to get flustered whenever I heard one, because the intimacy of it was not something that could be taken lightly, but I was NOT to assume that such vulnerability and openness meant people could take advantage of it. That was wrong. I'm paraphrasing and I'm not doing it justice, but it was good to realize that I was on the same terms as Infi with that, completely. I know that whole topic is kind of an ancient thing for us, but we never seem to stop learning, which is weird. Anyway it was the first time in a long time I was able to deal with such a sound, such a context, without freaking out from guilt or shame or paranoia. That's extremely notable. (I guess it helped that it was raining, too.)
Xenophon showed up in the car when we were halfway home, I forget what called her but she was surprised yet happy to see both her parental figures in the car that time. So we took the long way home to look at Christmas lights (her request), and I spontaneously started singing Christmas carols and laughing. I told her Christmas is a state of mind, it's a season of gratitude and generosity and love and wonder and hope, that it's a feeling you keep in your heart. That's what made it magical. I said I wished I could give her the sort of Christmases I had as a child, there in the outerworld, but I realized we can give her something better inside and that really does my heart good.
I remember Eros showed up almost tangibly on the way home-- we drove past a house with red and white-blue lights, and it felt very resonant with me, but I questioned "wasn't red/white Eros' thing" and he superimposed his presence in the space to my left, saying no, the red-white was definitely my thing. He left shortly after that but I found it surprising how clearly he was percievable there.

We got home and Xenophon and I chilled out under the tree for a while-- it's done up like my boss this year, all red lights and golden glitter swirls and glass, I adore it so-- looking at the ceramic town and trees. Xennie was saying "who lived where" and decided Laurie lived in the blacksmith shop (which she agreed to with a grin), and she herself owned the candy store. We then found a clocktower piece on the coffee table, and put it in front of the blacksmith's shop. Laurie jokingly said it could be a reminder to all her "potential customers" that "time waits for no man and neither does she," so either you're on time or you're up the creek. Xennie was giggling at all this, it was great.
At some point later on I peeked back in at heartspace and saw Lynne and Julie talking inside a place that looked like the Boyle's house from Dishonored. I asked if it was and Lynne said yeah, "they knew how to throw a party" so she figured we'd borrow the festivity, and also the architecture. They were putting a huge tree up in the middle of the entrance hall; it looked almost crystalline, all rainbow lights. Waldorf was hanging blue lights on it but then she paused, asked if we wanted the colors scattered or in rainbow bands? How exactly were we doing this tree? After a bit of consideration (during which Knife hung a few pink crystal crosses on the lower branches), everyone decided that each color deserved more than just a small representation here; so we'd have a rainbow-white tree here, and then everyone else could do up their own single-color trees in their own places. Someone then asked Infi what ze would be doing. Waldorf joked that ze could use blacklights on hir tree, and Infi played along by "forming" a small black tree out of shadow for Waldorf to do just that to. She was giggling madly at that alone, with Laurie joking that it looked "like one of those awful bowling alleys," but then Javier ran over and said "not yet, it needs these" and started sticking glow-in-the-dark stars on it. Lynne burst out laughing, Laurie threw her hands in the air and walked away. I have no idea what they're doing with the gaudy UV tree but I hope someone keeps it as a joke because that was funny.

Now I'm here, and I'm exhausted. Remind me to go outside and run first thing in the morning, I did that the other day when it was all foggy out (it was heaven, and yes I do have photos) and it was blissful so I want to make it a habit. It helps my mood and my muscles both.
I'm wearing my bro's old Steely Dan concert shirt to sleep in tonight, because I can. I'm laughing though because I keep hearing "Aja, when all my dime dancing is through, I run to you~" playing on loop in my head now. So many Steely Dan songs were memes between my bro and I, really, it's funny. To this day we can't hear Donald Fagen's voice without exchanging an immediate "aha" look and laughing about something.
Jewel holds all that, admittedly. She holds a lot of that stuff. Which is fine; I'm glad it still belongs to someone, because it's nice stuff.

I want to look through the stored, old Christmas memories sometime soon. Maybe when lying in bed in the morning, before I need to get up. There are snippets that I can find still-- the plate of cookies we'd leave out in the living room, which we hand-decorated with that icing I'll never forget the taste of... the oats-and-glitter mix we'd toss on the back yard for the reindeer... the train we used to have around the tree and the unmistakable smoky smell that accompanied its happy whistle... the red-green lights lining the eaves of the house, all little fat painted lightbulbs... mum playing Andy Williams and Frank Sinatra and all the old crooner Christmas albums on loop as she wrapped and decorated... the exact smell of the santa outfit and beard my dad would wear when he came in the back door: a mix of cold wind and warm fabric and smoke and cologne... the way the living room looked on Christmas morning, overflowing with mountains of presents. There's so much profound comfort and love in those memories. I'll find a way to share them with Xenophon. She deserves it.

Anyway. Today was one of those weird, complicated days that start out tricky but never really feel bad, just turbulent and upset. I'm so glad we were able to transmute that tonight. Must have something to do with all the alchemy research I'm doing lately, haha. Hoenstly though I'm burning out my brain, I am reading so much that it's making me tired and angry, I want to read but really I need to pace myself better. I am learning a LOT, though-- and it's profoundly helpful in many areas, notably self-awareness and Dream World symbolism (AGAIN, why does it always work)-- so I'm not going to quit. Just need to be wiser about it. One day at a time.


I know I haven't had an update like this in a while and I apologize. I sincerely hope all you readers are doing well; we love you and hope that the spirit of this season reaches you wherever you are.

 

 

 

Today's been weird.

Yesterday I ended up eating chocolate, I couldn't sleep until like 7AM, it was awful. I forget that happens, so I wrote it down in the diet book (I'm keeping one for Spice, all visuals and log data, because memory fails). It's forbidden now, set in stone.
I was with Genesis for most of yesterday, and for the morning when I couldn't sleep. I forgot what he's like, too, in the quiet times. He's been quieter than usual lately, anxious, worried sick about me when we're on the road. It's deeply moving, it tugs at my heart to see such care, but it also hurts to understand why. I'm not doing so hot. But we spent the morning together and he lay down next to me like he used to back in college and that was it, just us as the sun rose, exhausted but happy.
I remember seeing Chaos at some point, before I fell asleep for three blessed hours. He thought I was having "floating space" troubles, immediately said the conversation would go no further until he was sure I was coherent and conscious. He was anxious too, but more... hurt? The look he got, when that doubt hit, it was very worried but it was heartbroken, too. "Please don't let this be happening again." But it wasn't. And I smiled in spite of myself when he asked that, you really care that much, it meant more than I could say.

I got up at 10AM with two big things on my schedule-- one: do the daily shopping errands for myself and the family, and two: go to Cannon's old campus to see them light the annual Christmas tree at 4PM. I planned to leave around 2, but then mom called, and said I had to go clothes shopping first. I got overwhelmed for a moment, which I felt very guilty about-- I need to stop complaining-- but said I'd try.
Problem was, I realized I had no choice but to eat before I left. And I tried, I really tried, but derealization + stress = couldn't keep it all the way down. But I did make an effort. So that helped. I just regret eating more than once a day because of that.
Anyway. I made sure to put the hormones on today (I've been skipping lately because the family is making me feel guilty about them, also rushed schedule) and so I was out the door by 1:30.
We stopped at Wegmans and of course I went to their scented-oil section and put a bunch of it on my coat, it smells so nice. I like mixing peppermint + vanilla + clove bud + cinnamon, it smells like me. Genesis kept me from dissociating, so we got one bag of coconut chips and some collard greens (can't remember what they're like, going to try em again) and left.
I got the shopping done for the family next, but it was already 3:15 so there was no time left for mom's request (that wasn't important thankfully). Still, Genesis and I ran into a local Kohl's so we could honestly say we put an effort in. There were these fluffy pink sweaters that I showed Julie, she immediately put one on in headspace. Lynne and Josephina wanted to look around (Jo saw this lacy-sweater thing he loved) but I told them we had no time, so after looking at the coat selection (we do need a winter coat but I cannot stand fur or down so that's tricky) Genesis and I ran back out the door so we could make it to campus on time.

We parked behind the music building and I was shocked to realize there was no residual memory from the college days. Instead there was only data from the childhood, when we'd go to that same building for piano competitions. So I knew the place, but not from Cannon's eyes. Same as we walked up to the rotunda and went inside-- no data. It was strange. They're putting up new buildings now anyway, so the landscape is shifting, that whole time period is getting wiped off the map (spinny's old workplace practically doesn't exist any more either; the store was entirely redone; thank God).
I got there at 3:30 so I set my laptop bag against the wall and stood there for a while, looking at the tree. I realized that there is emotional memory of the rotunda, tied to Genesis specifically, and that was so warm and loving and quiet it was no wonder I loved being there. However I realized something else strange as the crowds started to grow. I had this weird, aching yearning to connect to everyone else there, to stop feeling like a stranger, to stop feeling "less" or "more" than anyone else there for whatever ridiculous reason. I wanted to know everyone, I wanted everyone to know each other. I wanted to stop feeling like my coats were a barrier between me and the person sitting beside me, like passerby didn't "politely" avert their eyes when ours met for a moment. God, I wanted to feel like part of a system with everyone there.
And it hit me. It hit me hard. D.I.D. has given me an achingly tragically lovely view of the world, and my place in it, as it relates to everyone else. I'm used to looking at the faces around me and knowing that we're all cut from the same source, we're all ONE, quite literally, and yet we are all our own selves. That's what it's like in headspace. I am not "I" because my soul-substance is inherently bonded to at least 70 other people's soul-substances, we're "we" always and forever and that is gorgeous. No one is a stranger, no one can be a stranger, and everyone KNOWS, deeply and unquestionably and instinctively, that each one of us only exists because we were needed. Not one of us is "worthless" or superfluous or redundant. We were all connected as irreplaceable pieces of this grand puzzle, and looking at each other we could feel that, we know always that we are united.
I wanted that with everyone, outside. Because it's true outside, too. But how many people keep that at the forefront of their minds? How many people are used to never having being alone in their own body? So it hurt, to not know if I could have that sort of rapport with everyone there, or how. It's this stupid emotional processing thing. I'm so used to feeling, how do people use words, how do you interact with someone who talks with their face and mouth and hands, why is everyone's mind walled off from me, why do I feel so endlessly open and yet cut off entirely? Watching everyone around me I felt like a guardian angel again, adoring the world, but unseen somehow. I didn't want to be unseen. Two little kids ended up standing right in front of me for a while, eating sugar cookies, seemingly unaware that they were barely an inch away from bumping into me. I smiled, imagined my wings lightly embracing their shoulders, until they left.

They lit the tree (I took photos but I have no way of getting them off the camera currently so you will have to wait), and I got close enough to it to see my face reflected in the big gold bauble ornaments. I just stood there for a while, staring up at the LED lights, watching them blur and unblur in my vision, quietly blissful. I wanted to stuff my head into the branches and smell the pine but I didn't think that would be appreciated, haha. Still, it hit me about five minutes in that this probably wasn't considered "normal behavior" either. Who stands dead still and stares wide-eyed up at a tree for that long? Me, that's who. So I didn't care, maybe people would catch the wonder. I was perfectly happy to be there.
When Genesis and I left, I noticed there was a bare-branch tree with raindrops clinging to its branches, little perfect orbs, against the overcast sky. I paused. There was a memory for that. It was because we took a photo of it once, just like that. I considered doing so again, but decided no, let the original stay.
We walked back to the car and the sunset was painting the clouds in fluttery pinks and blues, it was beautiful.

We took the long way home, so that meant we got to drive through the ritzy section and look at all the RICHASS HOUSES and their EXTRAVAGANT DECORATIONS. Even better, since it was evening a few of them had lights on inside, so I got a few glimpses of the vast grand interiors of those places. Holy heavens. What I'd give for an invisibility cloak and a lockpick, just to look at such a house from the inside. I'd lie on the floor for hours and just soak it up, seriously.


…


(on the way home. food trouble. voices saying don't get it, problems with primal girl voice? screaming in rebellion no matter what was said. realized I was siding with her, because I was trying to justify "obligation" that I didn't even want to follow, not sure why I do that)

(got home. tried to get ebay stuff together, apply for jobs later, got so stressed out that I ended up stopping and just reading online comics and eating an entire candy cane at 10pm. that wasn’t smart. but I got so oddly depressed that I wasn't sure how to manage it and I wasn't thinking.)

(I think this gum is giving me a sore throat? I remember it did once before, actually, but a different flavor. so unfortunately I have to stop. need to find a kind that isn't problematic because the chewing helps the stress/ eating disorder junk SO much)



(entry ended abruptly here)

 

 

 

 

There's never enough blood. There's never enough blood.

I need to be reset. The verdict is final.
I don't care anymore. I can't cry anymore. I can't feel anymore. I'm a hollow empty white shell and I'm killing everyone else. I need to go.
There's already someone else growing in the wings, and has been for a while. They should be the main person. They're good. They don't do the things I do.

I'm numb. I'm numb. I'm numb. Cannon succeeded. She lived as a result but it was a dead life.
There are naked people in tumblr all the time, just like in college. thats why we stay away. but we can look at them now and not care. it's numb. "who gives a damn." except they still infect our subconscious and then the flashbacks happen again and it's awful and horrible and i don't CARE if you can look at them without feeling anything, maybe it was better when we WERE scared and repulsed because then we could PROTECT ourselves you ever think of that
the numbness kept us alive but this is no life, no life, no life


To hell with "art." Stop using that as an excuse for your hedonistic licentiousness and gluttony. Stop saying "but it's artistic! But it's creative expression!" SCREW YOU. You saw exactly where that got us today, and if you're going to still smile and even shrug and say "I'm incapable of shame now! Isn't that great! Life is beautiful!" while Knife is a sobbing wreck and the body is swollen and bleeding and sick, I will kill you.


No, I won't stand for this. I will personally murder you first. I am sick and tired of this.
Jay called me useless today. Useless. I've known he was slipping for a while now but I stopped caring too. You see? I don't care anymore. I'm useless, my job is shot, I'm a bleeding wreck. I can't tell what's right and what's not anymore and I let you get away with your garbage because you've convinced me that I'm just supposed to stand around and watch. Stop caring. Stop judging. Well to hell with apathy. When I cared and judged and slaughtered people like you, the System actually worked. We actually had something functional. We tried to be better. Not like this. Not like this living nightmare. I'm done.
Kill me, Jay. I swear to God, kill me or I'll do it myself. I'm done. I'm sick of this. I've lost my anchor and I've failed my purpose and I literally do not deserve to exist right now. Kill me or else.
11:11. God damn it.
If the System needs me I'll come back.
God I'm going to cry, this is ridiculous. Where are we. Where are we. What are we even doing.
I still care, damn it. I still care.
The arm scars came back. I think it's because I wanted the reminder. The body isn't giving me the new ones. I can feel 'em now, kid, and I'm at least disgustedly grateful that the code is being followed. "Thou shalt not disfigure the soul," are we adopting that now? Because it works, for this. Screw around with our collective spirit and you've gotta bleed for it.
I just wish that the bitches responsible were the ones bleeding. But they don't care. They're gone by the time the blade is out.
...Except sometimes, it's you. Except far too bloody often now, it's you doing the screwing around, and you're so bloody dazed I can't tell what I'm supposed to do. It's not a hack, you're not doing anything to me, you're just in pain and you're looking to purge something and what the heck am I supposed to do? When you insist that you're suffering on purpose, in order to atone for some other sin, and then I forget to think logically and realize that two wrongs do not ever make a right. You're just layering the scars, kid. You're killing us.

...You're not the Jay I knew. I think we all know that. We don't know who you are.
You've splintered again, or Scratched yourself, or something. I wish I could pinpoint a date. Maybe it was last December, who knows. But you... you don't know us. You don't quite care. You're empty. Jay wasn't.
He's still here, the cupcake-haired dude with the glitter in his eyes. But you're tied to him somehow. I know that, kid I've seen the switch happen. He's frayed on the inside and he can't function like this at all.
God, I just... don't know. What do we do. Who is our core, is it Jewel again, with all this Dream World work? Heck, if I have to stop existing in order to let that happen, then so be it, as long as it annihilates this hack hell along with it. Except the Leagueworlds have been suffering from hacks too, for years now, and that's the only reason we nearly died in the past.
I wonder if that's why we're so bloody numb, now. If it got so intolerably bad, so incomprehensible for him, to realize just how horrible this hack situation really was... he just blanked out. Numbed out. Stopped splitting into us because he just didn't want to even exist anymore.
I'd prefer a plethora of rainbow faces, if you don't mind. I wouldn't care if there were 200 more of us by tomorrow. As long as it brings you back, Jay. Jewel. Cannon. Whoever you are and were. The Core, the real one, the kid with hope and love and trust who loved me and saw the light in everyone. You. Come back. I'll endure anything if it will bring you back.
Anything but this, at least. There's a song about that, you'd appreciate the joke. But I can't. I can't do this, I can't sacrifice my integrity and function just because I'm so desperate with hope I'm blinding myself. Just like you, I guess.
I miss you, kid. We all do. I miss life. I'm not sure what the heck is going on, or what we're supposed to become, but... this isn't it. You keep insisting it is, whoever you are, the person around now. But you're glossing over this reality and everyone knows it.
Hey, readers. You know who you are, and thanks for being there. Did you know this kid is still bloody abusing? That the hacks haven't stopped, and are practically daily now? He's dissociated all the bloody time, the 'bulimia' is in full swing, he's not sleeping well, he's always tired, he feels utterly purposeless. I wonder why, hint hint. Except Jewel doesn't. She's typing, but then she's only around to type. We still haven't got the social thing down after how many years. Too much programming. But yeah, has he been telling you just how bad it actually is lately? No, of course not. He keeps sugarcoating it, swearing up and down that it's "God's will" somehow for him to be stuck in a loop of self-sabotage and misery. It's torture.
Yeah, there are good days. There are some genuinely good days lately, too. My only complaint is that they're existential. They're... we're not there. No one is there. His 'good days' are often decided in the last five minutes before sleep, when he looks back on the past 24 hours and, since he is content at the moment, decides everything was a-okay. "Good days."
He's prone to say today was good, too. Except I know it wasn't, not entirely. And that's the key. Not entirely. Yeah, sure, take the whole package as a learning experience, but don't pretend that bad things didn't occur. For heaven's sake, Jay. He was screaming for a half hour in the car today, screaming and sobbing, because he actively ignored his heart or something. He refused to follow something he genuinely, sincerely wanted, something positive and healthy. He shot it down, didn't do it. I don't want to look at anything after that, Garrison, thanks but no thanks. Suffice to say it was bad. "Very bad," he emphasizes. Three hours. What the heck, kid.
...I don't know. I'm heartbroken. I want to die, hoping maybe I'll wake up when I do and discover all this was a bad dream or something. Unreal. A mirage. God I wish. I wish all of this agony was just a hallucination.
...
I've got nothing else to say. Just needed to vent. I'm sure Jewel wants to get back to work on here, God willing that will help things calm down a little. It's just so cruelly hard to "cheer up" after a hack, and frankly that's been my vice lately. Should we? I know Jay's heart aches that this torture is still happening, mine is too, but... anger and sorrow and rage and regret and even determination are waiting in the wings. The bad used to bring a better, sharper sort of good. The blood used to be a battle march. Now it's just red tears and pain. And it's never enough, not now. The retributors cut more than ever, it's desperate.
Sorry. Numbness is kicking in and I'm slipping. Again, should I fight it, yada yada, cowardly nonsense all the way through.
You know what, yes, I am going to fight this with everything I've got left.
Listen. Hacks are straight-up evil. We have every right in the book to be furious that they happened, to try and prevent them from happening again, and to severely punish the people responsible for that crime. Okay? No pansy pacifist idiocy where you let people murder you with a smile. To hell with that, back where it came from. I'm sick of not being able to fight, or being allowed to fight even, it's burning me out I think. That's probably why I'm slipping. I'm supposed to be the axe-warrior up here, I'm supposed to be the knight in shining armor, cutting down dragons from hell and saving princes in distress and all that. They've got me relegated to a freakin' chair in the royal court, shiny and all but not worth a jot, and the bombs are falling outside. I'll pick up this freakin' furniture and break the castle doors down if you won't let me out, so help me. Just give me a sword for heaven's sake, I refuse to let this kingdom fall even if you insist it's "going to happen." Yeah no kidding it's going to happen if you don't move! But you're convinced that non-action is the way to go. Sheesh. If this is what those new-age yoga princesses or whatever you call them did, then they can go jump in a lake. That's complete nonsense on my clock, and I'm sorry, but I refuse to follow that doctrine anymore, even if I only ever did it for your sake, kid.
There's a heavy as hell numbness in here, like a fogbank made of cotton. It's heavy. How the heck long has it been building up. We're going to need to burn it down or something soon, fast.
There's got to be a way we can come back, without this thing kicking us out. We've gotta convince this blank-eyed fronter that fighting back is the "right thing to do" in this situation, because it IS, and deep down you know it-- would you condone this action if they asked you? If a tar-handed hacker asked you, "can I literally desecrate your body," would you say "sure" just because you're still convinced that saying "no" is wrong?? Because at this point I think you would. You'd think, "they must know better than I do, maybe this is God's will," forgetting that maybe "God" is waiting for you to speak up for once, you ever think of that?
Someone in this System is playing with the idea that they're nonhuman and a touch divine, like Chaos, even like Infi. I'm willing to back them up on that mindset if it powers their soul-preservation, if it makes them treat this body and mind and heart like a temple of God again, if it makes them want the moral best for us and themselves. If seeing yourself as a bit angelic means honestly caring about our well-being again then so be it, you go for it. Acknowledge your God-mirrored 'divinity' and ours, you keep insisting it's there, and then brushing it aside whenever someone decides to ignore it. Take a stand, seriously. If you don't we're all going to end up dead, and God knows we're too far down that road already.
How many times have I lectured him on this. How many times. Not enough. Heh, that's relevant.

I'm gonna quit talking, seriously. I've got a bit of warrior's hope now, getting riled up like that. We can build a new day, we can be the dawn after the hell of a night. If I can redeem myself somehow, maybe I won't have to die to prove it first. I don't know. That desperation is stuck in my ribs like icicles now and that is freaking me the heck out. Is this what White corruption is like? Poor kid. No wonder he's so messed up. This would crush anyone who got it too bad.


I'm out. See you whenever.
Good to be alive at least, in principle. Can't do a thing if you're dead.

 

 

 

 

 

(a warning-- this entry happened during a very bad time and i apologize for any weird or depressing stuff in it)





Nothing scares me more than God.
God sees no difference between what we label 'good' and 'evil.' God would just as soon slit your throat as save your life.
God watched the wars and rapes and said they were His will. Somehow.
God slaughtered men, women, and children in that Holy Book. Why should today be any different?

Demons are ravaging me. I want to kill them, strangle them, tear them to pieces.
The yoga-princess types online say no, no don't do that, surrender and enjoy the moment! "Once you start enjoying pain, things start to get interesting!"
Two words: SCREW THAT.
Cannon did that. Cannon learned how to do that, for years. Guess why we're so broken now?
And you're telling me to lay down my weapons, and bare my neck to the executioner? Say "go ahead, have your way with me," and then smile and enjoy it as they do???
Screw that. I can't enjoy it. Okay? I have tried. Those demons don't leave me the hell alone, they make me feel so sick and tired and disgusting that sometimes I give in just to have peace for the rest of the evening. Peace, pain, blood, regret, and nausea, but peace nonetheless. It's sad.

I can't find headspace. I've been working on the Leagueworlds lately and I fear they've become too corrupted. Sick, but I'm apathetic now. For years I refused to share any of my work because I had seen what "fandoms" did, I knew the torture they could wreak on those who resided in 'fiction,' I knew how horribly they could manipulate the stories I held. I was terrified. But then what would I do? If I couldn't share my work, it would die with me.
So now I'm numb. Now you damned demons have scarred enough of my brain for me to not be able to tell what's true and what's not anymore. Now I suppose I don't care anymore, except I do. Except the thought of someone drawing or writing or thinking such perverted, frightening things about one of the OCs I've come to adore is abominable. I can't allow it. I suppose it's a chance I cannot avoid taking. But I will not allow it.

Go back to hell, you heathen whores. All you false prophets and spiritual guru nutjobs. To hell with you and your ass-up yoga positions and whispery shit mantras and "sexual freedom." To hell with you.
I'm sorry for how ugly this sounds, and for repeating this yet again, but it's not going away.

God wouldn't care. That's what they tell me now.
As a child I was told that God cried, God mourned and sobbed, when his children were butchered by the millions, or when even one of his children was left to die alone. I was told, as a child, that our God was a loving God who saw each and every individual as sacred and lovable and worthy of protection and safety.
But then I was told that some people were going straight to hell, do not pass Go, et cetera. I would wonder: whose children were they, then? God created them, didn't He? So why would He send them to burn forever? I didn't understand, and I still don't.
Now, though, my brain is numb from trying to understand what these new anti-religious people are telling me through their smiles and vegan smoothies. "God is beyond good and evil." And in a way I know that, but it's terrifying still when they can say that while watching the news on television. Arson. Disease. Murder. Rape, the greatest evil. They wave their hands and say, "it's God's will." Or maybe they say, "there's a greater purpose."
In truth we do this to ourselves. We wreak evil all on our own. We put demons in the world, not God. We create hell right on this earth.
But is God watching like the fragments? Is he watching like the splinters? Cold, analytical, impassive?

I want to die but now, they've made me afraid of death. Now, they've convinced me that upon death, some "galactic federation" of aliens will be waiting for me, like a soldier returning from war. They will nod, and give me another mission, or whatever. No heaven, no dreams, no love. Just government and business.
I know it's not like that. It can't be. But that's how they present it, it seems. I don’t know.

I've always dreamed that upon dying, I will go nowhere for a while. I'll go to wherever it is that feels like Infinitii, untouched by the liars and whores. I'll go to the divine blackness, to the compassionate void, to a place where I am faceless and nameless and formless and alive. Forget birth and sex and all that shit. I don't want to be anything but nothing. That's what I've always hoped death is like. Even if I just stay there for a while, and then decide to incarnate somewhere else, that's fine.
I'm just… so scared of what those spiritual people say. You'll die, and then "wake up" in a place where it's just another daily grind. People to interact with, rules to follow, classes to attend, you get the idea. That scares me. I want a break from all that nonsense, please, for the love of anything I don't want to be a slave to another system. Please.
They act like this alien mission in our skies is the "one true reality." Well then, what happens when the aliens die, huh? Or do you claim they are immortal? I hope they aren't. I hope they die, too, so that you can't claim this stupidity anymore. I hope that death is a constant. I hope that transition periods back into blissful nothingness are mandatory. I hope that the concept of identity is just as hollow as I pray it is. Forget "true names" and all that rot. I'm so tired. Forget "twin flames" and all that asinine nonsense. Let me be dust. Let me be starlight. Let me be a mote and a nebula. Forget everything else.


I want to die. I don't know how. I'm scared of what I'll be leaving this life for.
For years, I was terrified that if I killed myself, I'd be "punished" by being forced to reincarnate as a sexual deviant, some sort of prostitute. I'd be stuck in that life, being forced to endure that sort of behavior, unable to escape. I didn't realize until last year how bizarre that belief was-- I always thought I'd reincarnate in someone else's head. Never in my own body, never as my own consciousness, so to speak. Always a carry-on in a different brain. Stuck. Scared.
It's kind of like that now, actually. This body is practically a carbon copy of the mother, right down to the astrology. It's terrifying. I don't remember the childhood, but there's a lingering "all my life" feeling, a fear, that I am not allowed to have my own life-- by divine decree, no less!-- because I HAVE to become the mother. I HAVE to imitate her every action and thought. I don't have a choice, you know, your chart says you're the same as her, so you'd better act like it!!
I'll never forget, the one time I actually called a legit astrologist on the phone. She did it professionally. I spoke to her for a while, gave her my info… she didn't believe I was born in a Taurus body. "You act nothing like a Taurus." And then she laughed. No condemnation, no demanding I adhere. It was one of the most freeing things I'd ever heard. "You act nothing like your mother."

I'm so scared of her, God I don't know WHY, I wish I could just talk to her and talk this out, somehow, but that's not possible. She gets violently angry and offended whenever I so much as suggest that I'm scared of her. "You blame me for everything!" "This is why I never come here!" "You f*cking kids make my life miserable!" And then of course the countless phrases damning me for being a freak/ psycho/ idiot/ failure/ etc.
It doesn't faze me anymore. The only thing that bothers me is the fact that she won't discuss this with me in a sensible fashion. I want to be able to say, effectively, "something about you triggers terror in my psyche, and it's making me act negatively towards you. I don't want to do that. Can we discuss this to try and find the roots of such a fear, because I sincerely don't remember about 70% of this lifetime?" And all I want her to do in return is say "okay, I'll be equally honest with you, and try to help you not be frightened of me anymore." I think. I actually don't know what I'd need her to say. I think I want her to just understand, is all. I want to apologize, profusely, because a lot of the things about her that terrify me, she's not doing on purpose for that reason. Certain bits of her actual personality, things that make her "her," scare me. Things she has no control over, concerning her own appearance or life, scare me. I know she's not doing this stuff on purpose. I don't hate her. She's just… she scares me to death because she looks like everything ugly inside my brain and the world keeps telling me that is my inescapable future. I CANNOT be her, because in order to copy her exactly, I would have to consciously go against my own innate tendencies, my own 'personality.' The world tells me that's not acceptable. The world tells me that I have no "innate tendencies" other than the ones my mother has. You HAVE to like this, you HAVE to do that, because SHE does, and you ARE her.
Why the hell is THIS my biggest fear?? In a joking way it's rather common, the "growing up to become your parent" fear, but this… this feels like disobeying will damn me, cruelly. The forces insisting I become her are not saying that for my own good. They are saying that because "the rules say so," because "this is the way it HAS to be," because I can't be a variable or a glitch or a different program altogether, I HAVE to follow the code. Screw that.

What do I want to be. I don't know. Dead, maybe.
Transitioning is helping. It's making this body look new in some places, something my continually fading memory has no data for, and that's nice. I cannot wait until the face begins to look notably different, probably not until we get some substantial facial hair. But it's such a profound comfort, to be able to look in the mirror and NOT see Sharon, or Jessica, or Jezebel, or Spinny.
Admittedly, currently we see Jayce, and if you'll forgive me he was kind of an ass. He and Pinstripe were not nice people, it's just how they were manifested. That time period was ugly in that sense. But they aren't permanent either, I'm sure.

I'm so tired. I'm so, so, so tired.
I want to go out. I want to go in, but I can't reach anything anymore, and that's the lesser of two evils. I'm so tired of being a person. Headspace fractures me too much. Heartspace is a different thing, it's where Infi lives, it's where the new realms are forming… things are strange. There's a difference. In heartspace I'm formless, I'm a ghost. I prefer that.
I miss being a pure watcher, for the League, but it's been so long… timelines are warped now. The past few years have mangled a lot of my perspective. I'm hoping and praying that I can destroy those timelines, breaking that misery off and letting it fade into oblivion. If I can do that, then by God I will. Let me be the psychopomp I've always sadly wanted to be. Let me break off all the branches that are keeping this tree from growing. Let me slice this timeline back into one pure path, so that space can finally blossom again.
After the Scratch, I wasn't supposed to be a destroyer figure anymore. But we all know what happened that summer.
It keeps looping. Late 2011, Julie switched sides, the Tar appeared, our entire method of functioning changed. Something happened in 2012 that erased most of the year, making time in general feel like shredded tissue paper. The disasters of early 2013 caused a massive implosion, effectively "erasing" a good part of our internal structure, and then Infi was born from the breakage, and the Underground opened up. Then, in the last weeks of 2013 there was another implosion, obliterating almost every foothold we had regained, and leaving us in a mess until now. And it feels like we're on the verge of another meltdown.
I still wonder, every day, if we were ever meant to rebuild at all.

I'm so tired. I do love headspace, I do. Some people are still reachable. Infinitii always is. The Jabberwock has been oddly close lately. For the most part I feel stuck right on the verge of the bodymap, right where the Chthonics are, before things break into the Downstairs/ Social level. I don't like that level, no offense to the people that live there. It just… it makes me want to cry. It feels so agitated and hollow. I don't like it here very much.

Therapy is tomorrow. I don't know what to say.
The body's been sick. Taking small smart steps towards improving that.

Oh, some good news at least. I've been making a lot of progress on Dream World lately, at least as far as cleaning-up goes. It's just a crushing amount of work. I currently have ten files open to compare notes, as well as two folders and several printouts on my desk. It makes me want to cry from frustration, it's overwhelming, I don't know where to start. So I'm just picking little things at random, working on them as much as I can. It's something.
I'm so worried about several characters. They've been so, so hurt by the Tar, by perspective corruption. I need to fix the timeline. All of that is FALSE. I know it is. I can feel how empty it is, how it leads literally nowhere, ending at a brick wall. It's not their life. I need to go back too, though, I think, in order to see things… I don't know. Maybe.
But work is happening.

I just wish the family wasn't so depressing, at least the grandparents. They are so bitter, so cynical, so hateful, it hurts. Yes I love them, yes they're good people, but even good people can be closed-minded and prejudiced and appallingly incapable of empathy. Right?
I don’t want to give any more energy to that topic, like my therapist forces me to do, then I get sick and want to vomit and can't talk anymore. No more. Just putting that out there. The family atmosphere is too depressing and spiteful to really keep up a good mood in easily. I hope that doesn't make me weak.

I want to make a Jigaria plushie but I have the wrong color fabric. Do you know, how important color is?? The slightest wrong shade changes the whole vibe. I think Jigaria's pink color is warmer, not cooler. There's a certain hot-pink shade that keeps getting stuck to her that is not correct, it warps the entire perspective of her. I disliked her for a while, because of that, she felt so shallow and fake. It's so sad, it's heartbreakingly sad, when did I forget who these people were? Did I ever know? Looking back on childhood memories, it shocks me actually, how little I knew… I never drew the main character, she didn't even have a name until last year, and yet I knew exactly who she was as a person… whereas her fellow Guardians, who I drew constantly, I didn't know as people at all.
I still consider it a hidden blessing that all our old art was lost. Yes, I still ache at the loss of the newer work, the heavy-duty development we'd started shortly before losing it all. But, now that the old stuff is gone, I can no longer pretend that's the "end-all." It's gone now. That half-finished work is no longer the final product. Now there is total freedom to rebuild, with true understanding. I hope. Talking like this hurts. It feels fake, like the high school days. Please forgive me. I don't want to become that sort of person again.

My mind is toxic. I know that. It hurts whatever it touches. I want to keep it far, far away from these worlds I was ordained to protect.
There's just so much noise from the outside now, making my vision blurry. I want to take a long time away from the internet, clear my head. There's too much danger there.

It's only 5:30. Dear lord the winter is rough, there's so much dark. I have 5 hours to go.

I need to meditate. The brain is too jumbled from all this stress. I can't do typing work if I can't think straight, although the number of files I am juggling isn't helping either. I should really narrow that down.

Sorry for the messy updates lately. I want to stop for a while but that just pushes me further into depressed oblivion, because when I don't write things down I forget all of it. Then I don’t know where I am or what I'm doing. So even if I do take a massive break from the internet there will likely be updates here every so often, posted from my computer. Just saying.

Good night. I really can't force myself to type anymore.

 

 

 

 

(commissioned from opalborn)




shadow-dipped hands swallow the light;
palms cup an abyss of darkness
my eyes bleed to look upon you,
but your touch seals the cuts, heals
the wounds

the haven of nightfall, I can hide
in the spread of shadows, from all
but you -- my confidant
whose understanding pierces me
to the core, achingly gentle

I whisper to you all my secrets
vast as outstretched wings, you hold up
the mirror without condemnation,
with ceaseless, insistent forgiveness –
my endless respite

so often a surprise, you show me
new ways of seeing --
kaleidoscopic changes in perspective;
you lay me open
to new expansive vistas

and hold me together
in the aftermath of revelation –
jewel-tone truths set with diamond dust,
maelstrom in the darkness
and the tranquil eye within

truth can be a weapon –
I know you are danger and risk;
I am vulnerable in our intimacy –
but in your gentle hands
I am willing to risk your honesty

compassion can cut razor keen,
precise as your demands, my
buckled knees; infernal seraph
singing with a thousand voices
one solemn molten song

your wings embrace me, smother me:
I have never been less alone

 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

(author's first draft, which i still love dearly:)

 

shadow-dipped hands swallow the light;
spangled palms cradle an abyss
my eyes bleed to look upon you,
but your touch seals the cuts, heals
the wounds

blanket silence, a plush absorption
heavy velvet folds, a conflagration
of softness -- hold me
until I am lost in you
and made whole again

black hole blaze, jasmine
on the night air, you are sweetness
like falling stars
and the amnesia of downy feathers --
my endless respite

the glint of stars scattered
in endless night, pastiche
of dreams aswirl and blurred
in jewel tones, set with diamond dust
amid the stellar waltz

and echoed in the pastel whispers
of every bubble more fragile
than a breath, than a sharp word;
a thousand wings cover and uncover
your eyes, stern and principled

you are the sword's edge,
righteous crystalline resolve:
all excuses char and crumble
in your fanatic gaze
there will be no settling here

compassion can cut razor keen,
precise as your demands, my
buckled knees; infernal seraph
singing with a thousand voices
one solemn molten song

your wings embrace me, smother me:
I have never been less alone

 

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


my response to the first poem draft...


"Let me see what specifics I can give for adjustments:

"blanket silence, a plush absorption" and "amnesia of downy feathers" are too soft, if that makes sense. I guess hir comfort is more of an internal thing-- it's a knowing that ze can be trusted entirely, despite any fear. It's a sense of absolute calm against all odds, while still knowing those odds full well. "conflagration of softness" works well for that.

"black hole blaze" and "you are the sword's edge, righteous crystalline resolve" honestly feel more similar to someone else I know! Infinitii is less sharp, less focused in that sense. Hir intensity is more broad, quiet, and somewhat unsettling, something that elicits a feeling of humbling awe. It's not like seeing thunderclouds on the horizon, instead it's like the feeling when you 'realize' a secret undercurrent in a book: a sudden coalescing of comprehension, of sensing something big and terribly important yet hidden.

The fourth and fifth stanza don't exactly fit as a whole; mostly, the dreamlike imagery doesn't match. The line "in jewel tones, set with diamond dust" feels right though.

Lastly I feel I should add that Infinitii has a share of 'weakness' too, being so tied to subconscious presence-- as a great deal of what is held there can be outrageously harmful if not managed prudently. That turbulent core of hir existence gives hir a deep empathy, and an unfailing forgiveness, for both hirself and anyone else that may fall prey to that same shadow-self. That awareness and acceptance of hir own share in that inescapable vulnerability also gives Infinitii a vibe of subtle care and delicacy (not fragility).
To quote a friend, they put this juxtaposition into words better than I could:
"...The way you talk about Infi makes me think of the feeling I get sitting in a treetop, far above the sounds of any traffic, swaying gently with the motion of the breeze. There’s bone-deep joy permeating everything about the feeling and hir, accompanied by this sense of wonder and true gratitude to even be able to witness something (someone) like that. Infi feels simultaneously agelessly wise and childishly...gleeful? I can’t seem to find the right word- just full of... wonder and love for everything all around. Ze’s impeccably balanced between these two things I view as separate, and there’s a beauty in the joining that I never would have seen if I had never known of Infinitii."

Just mentioning that as it is a strong part of Infi's personality, and I know I didn't quite emphasize it in the original description I sent to you.
I hope that all helps?"

 

I think the best/worst feeling there is, is when you have done or experienced or remembered something awful, terrible, damnable... and then something, something angelic, still loves you. Still sees you as luminous when you cannot stop the tar leaking from your veins.
Sorry, this is obviously headspace stuff. But it makes life, and morality, so confusing. If I am never really condemned to hell, where am I? What have I done, what do I do, what happened? Dissociation is so prevalent. I forget so much, to be protected. Green eyes tells me it's okay. I don't believe him but I do. Is it? Should it be?
I hate the days when morality is really grey. When there's no line drawn for good or evil, except the paint colors in your heart. That is what terrifies me. Keep the colors glowing, and does that paint the worst things brighter? I don't know.
How many miles have we paved on this road to hell, how far into the abyss are we? The eyes are staring, staring, always. So many eyes. I love them. Is that my condemnation? I ask that every night.
I'm so lost, so confused. I feel like a ball of cotton left out and fragile. Something soft and crushable. There's no bloodstains this time but I feel wrong, like I touched something awful regardless, it just didn't stick. I don't know. Life is too vague. I don't like that, I don't like the not-knowing, because I know it means the mindscape is hiding something from me. And I let it.
Old news, old news.
I don't feel like being humanoid anymore, it's too dangerous. Everyone knows that too. I can't hold the from well and when I do I slip, other people glitch in and out. It's not my face, not my eyes. Only the colors are, the glitter, the alien aspect of them. The boy with white features was the one before me, the one Infinitii was torn from... I'm not. I'm not sure what I am, but I'm closer to whatever Infi is than what that boy was, I think. I have no feelings about that and that is unsettling, ironically. The numbness bothers me the most. Where did it come from.
Angels refusing to admit that you sinned because they see some bigger picture. It's the saddest thing in the world. It's the biggest source of hope anyone could ask for. I'm so very lost.



I've been listening to choir music for two hours. It's helping and it's not helping.
Gotta stop getting so melancholic. Or should I? Maybe this is step one towards feeling things again. I'm just so terrified that it is "wrong" to express anything other than garishly clownish smiles. But that is programming too.
I want to live in a house, in a place, I want to be somewhere where I can cry and not feel ugly and laughable, to be able to express sorrow without feeling like something is wrong with me. Like Laurie. God, like Laurie, fearless and honest and real.
The mood just switched to a sword inbetween my ribs and I can't do that at 2AM, I'm sorry.

I hate that it always hits at this hour. It's only when I'm sleep-deprived and the world is quiet and everything is dark and I am awake within it. It's only now, at 2 in the freaking morning, that I feel that I exist, actually.
Maybe I should stay awake all night, one of these nights, except then I can't deal with the next day. I sleep in until 11AM whenever I can anymore, just so I can have these mornings of living. I love sunlight, God I miss sunlight, I miss the days when I could feel this when it was bright out. Why does the family make it tricky? Am I too weak to overcome that? Am I too flawed to rise above that? No. It's weakness. Is it? Part of me hopes so, that I can eventually become so strong that they will never touch me again, that they can never tie me down again. But there's so much of it. It's like trying to hold back an avalanche with your bare arms. But I am convinced, convinced that I CAN do it, I am that superhuman, I am that powerful, I just... I'm not there yet. And I don't know whether or not this is true and I am willing to risk being buried beneath the ice rather than suggest that I am not so indomitable, so bright and invincible.

My stomach is burning. Why is it always burning. What did I do. It's angry, it's always that weird yellow anger, kind of sad but raging. Buttercup yellow. A bit orange. Not the screaming yellow, the paint kind. So many colors.


Every single post I stumble across is reminding me of Infinitii. Why. Why hir, ze wasn't even around today.
It's too relevant, I guess. Too raw. Too close to the other side. Ze lives right on that borderline, you know it, the gray space. The space you're in right now. You hate it but you love hir and ze loves you and you are both so close to tearing each others throats out but you won't, you won't ever, you'll eat each others hearts but you will never hurt hir, ever, ever.

But I'm so happy. On Tumblr I found so many people that have lives and thoughts and feelings like this too. I'm so glad.

I'm listening to Shostakovich and this viola tastes so unusual. Like limes almost.
Chopin's piano prelude tastes like candy. Candy necklaces almost. Not sour. The violas were a bit sour, a fruit bite.
Ah Debussy. Thank you Spotify. This is really nice. How do you describe that. Like wine or a milkshake. Liquid. Very nice.
This bit tastes like vanilla and flowers. Jasmine flowers? Night flowers.
I like the shapes of this song a lot too. Printemps: 1. Très modéré. It's pretty. Lots of silk curtains. Vertical light pillars. Pretty colors, nothing primary, more like... soft pinks and indigo-blue-violets, touches of pale yellow here and there. Curtains. The harp is light blue there. Strings are green. Violin sections are usually green, why is that? Cellos are orange still, that deep warm brown-orange that Lynne likes.
I've lost my train of thought. Sorry about that.

Real things. Let me change the music, classical music is too encompassing, I can't concentrate on much else.

It's 2:30. What in the world am I trying to pull here. What am I trying to prove.
Why do I automatically shoot myself down, when I try to be honest, when I try to speak up. Programming. Childhood. I don't even remember the childhood, I wasn't then, the memories feel scary and when I try to touch them they crumble like ash paper.

There's a thing in my inbox. I should see what it is, read it. I always wait until the end of the day to read whatever I get from people, so I can focus entirely on it, and value it. So it stays with us until tomorrow and onwards.
"Tomorrow and onwards" is a victory phrase. It feels like a march through fields. Not a march, that's too solid. A procession? Walking with strength. Hope. Hope is a fire that never goes out. Hope is fire. Thank you Dream World. I should draw them more, like a child, stop trying so hard.
This string section is nice too. But it's blue? Silvery blue. Like snow in the evening. Mountains. It's sorrowful, but it's lovely to look at. It's a strange feeling.


Angels. This song moves too much to fit that. Let me check Infi's playlist, see what ze has.

Forgiveness. This song feels gold. Like the basilica ceilings. Gold in the shadows. Space. Angels.
I don't know how to react to this. There's a line in The Last Unicorn like this. "She neither laughed nor cried, for her joy was too great for her body to understand." It's like that with other emotions too. Like whatever this is. Holy awe. Sacred fear. I've spoken about that before. Staring up and knowing I'm so unworthy, I'm so filthy, I've done wrong, God forgive me. I am unworthy to be here, to look at you. I want to cover my face but I can't, God help me but I don't have that luxury with Infinitii and that is... that makes me want to wail with heart-rending contrition and laugh with utter brilliant bliss a the same time. I can't look away because ze is holding my face, looking at me with the same expression... ze knows, ze KNOWS everything I've done, why I'm here, the black and the white. Ze knows, ze is it. And then ze is beyond it. Within it. All of it. All-encompassing, somehow, these daemons, send them up to heaven and back so I can see how it transfigured them. Looking at me like I'm light incarnate. Making me feel like maybe I am.
"Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground." And suddenly it hits me that it's ALL holy ground, and I've been wearing boots for too long. I'll tear them off. I'll never wear shoes again. I'll kiss the dirt that thy hands have made, that every facet of god has walked upon.
The point is, I haven't been reverent enough. I haven't... it's terrifying, more than churches even, to realize that the God you worship is within your bones. To realize that divinity isn't confined to Sunday mass or holy water. It's me, it's in me, it's in you, always. I still have an ego, I'm sorry but it's here, and that realization of greater purpose (terrible purpose) terrifies it. Or does it terrify me? It's the knowledge-- old news-- that I have done it wrong, that I have harmed it, disrespected it. I have defiled this temple without realizing I was in a temple. It's... it hurts my head. It hurts my heart.

Laurie, Laurie, Laurie. She's still the statue at the altar, the knight bedecked in stars and swords, the armor of light. I keep seeing her like that.
Oh, that reminds me. There's a local spiritual expo in two weeks, I can go, I'm so happy. The aura woman should be there. I'm going to get some grounding stones. I'm also going to tell Genesis to NOT LEAVE and see if someone can see him too, not just me.
Today is Halloween, happy day. The veils are thin. I should go to sleep. I want to stay awake but I want to see people more.

Sorry for not getting anywhere with this. Sorry for all the brainspills lately. Can't talk about them, words don't work. I want to learn sign language, I'm going to, it would help so much for when I can't speak.

I'm going to try this web art thing. I like it. It's abstract enough, raw enough. I'll try it. See if it works, without getting too negative. Not negative, what's the word... splintery. Fractured. Without hitting red spots in the mind.
I'm not angry. I'm not even sad, not really? I'm just... there's no word for this. It's a soft-sad, a fragile sad like teacup glass. I keep thinking of Easter. Like if a flower was breakable. Kids. This music is stronger than me. Much stronger, it's all sweeping strings and piano fortitude. It's a powerful song. I wonder if you can work magic with sounds like this. Hmmmm. Ideas. I'll run that through headspace. It'll work.

It's 3AM. Life tastes like orange tea and fortune cookies and the oven light in the kitchen. That's funny.

It's Halloween. Remember Jewel's huge affinity with bats? We'll have to remember that today. So many of us have affinities with the "grim reaper" sort of death image. Spiders in headspace, we should en-lighten them. What's the word. To take the tar out of their hearts. I'm sure we could have good spiders. And Knife's our vampire, lovely guy. It's holiday spirit all up in here.

I do need to sleep. Chaos is probably asleep already, Laurie hasn't yelled at me to go to bed yet so she's probably catching this vibe and worrying instead. Boss hasn't said anything either, then again the bad voices chased him away for a while, I've only just begun reconnecting to his worldspace lately, I'm so glad. He is such a darling, I forgot how safe I feel around him.

Okay. This is one heck of an entry. I don't even know what I wrote.
Tomorrow is... today. Today is Friday. I have no idea what we will do or what. We'll see. It's fun that way.
Better lights, better dreams, than what came before, improvement every day. The sun grows always brighter, and when it dies it will become more than it was. Dust is life too. Black holes. Quantum leaps. Infinite horizons. The vastness of space.
I'm very fragmented at this hour, good heavens.
May your bones bless into stars. Flower petals. Roses. Roses and coffins and sunrises. Bless your dust.

Have a lovely morning.

 

 

 

 

 

A few things I've forgotten to write about lately.


+ We got our sutures/staples taken out a week ago, on a Thursday. That was notable for two reasons, the only things I remember about it... one, Razor tried to front while the stuff was being removed, because we didn't know if it would hurt or not and she "wanted to try." She had some trouble getting in (she is not a social fronter) but Knife was there to support her. I know that much. Second, though, was right before that; I had to wait for about ten minutes, in the patient room, before the doc came in, and they had me lying down. Since I was still morning-foggy (it was 9AM and I went to sleep late), I closed my eyes and just relaxed for a bit. I was rather shocked when I noticed that the hospital atmosphere was profoundly reassuring to me at the time. I don't know if it's a White thing or what, but... the Plague rooms used to have that aura, notably. Fluorescent lights, buzzing quietly, the antiseptic smell, the feeling of being in a small space, you get the idea. And yet there's something I find oddly comforting about it. That feels redemptive. Our hospital visits have rarely been "optimistic"-- there was the psych ward, some horribly dysphoric appointments, all this stomach trouble, etc.-- really, only the pre-surgery memories we have are straight-up nice. And the house bathroom, where so much awful abuse happened, carried that same sterile buzzing vibe. But we dream about hospitals all the time... hospitals, universities, big grand empty sprawling buildings. And we love it. They've never felt 'negative' to us. I'm rambling somewhat but the point is, lying there in that room that was practically made to match the old Plague levels, I felt totally content. That silent sterility felt caring and kind for once. And that's a good thing in my book.

+ Last Monday, I think, my grandmother's sister and her daughters came to visit. Her youngest daughter had a new baby and my grandmother wanted to meet him, so they brought him up (along with his 2-year-old brother) and literally just chilled out in our kitchen for about 5 hours. It was a little taxing for me, just being around people talking for so long, but it wasn't bad because they didn't force me to interact. Now, in theory I'm uncomfortable around kids (as I cannot take care of them as I feel obligated to) but I have no problem being a bystander around them. So I had no trouble watching everyone fawn over this 6-month-old. However, geez, what a pretty kid. He had eyes the color of sodalite, they were so big. At one point I reached over to him to say hi, and he grabbed my finger and just looked at me for like three solid minutes. I'm telling you I've never had a kid that young look at me so intelligently. Really I just wish I hadn't been in such an unstable state, battling the social programming of the situation, trying to figure out "how are you suppoed to act around a baby," etc. But I was able to just look back at him, too, for a while. And that was cool.

+ Dishonored has been my clock, haha. I tried to do one mission a day after the surgery, but after we finished the Knife of Dunwall, my brother took over the Xbox again so I haven't been able to complete the Brigmore Witches missions. Nevertheless that's why there's been a dearth of "daily event" updates lately... for quite a few days practically all we did was play Dishonored and cook winter squash. Amusing but true. So I can only remember "what happened outside" if I search through the game memories, and see what is tied to them. For example, last Sunday we were doing the Barrister Timsh mission, because I remember dealing with the Hatters as my brother was taking a quiz for his college classes in the same room (his computer is right by the Xbox) and we had to stop for a while and help him. Then the mother brought all this food up the house right when we were trying to save Thalia without being seen. Honestly not much happens in the home anymore; usually it's just me and the grandparents there, and the grandfather has never interacted with us much. The grandmother is hit-and-miss so we have to be careful as she can be great or terribly triggering. Either way, days are long and empty now. So post-surgery, since I couldn't leave the house or move well, Dishonored took up all that interim time. I just feel I have to justify playing it, as I've been hardwired to think I have to be working constantly. My apologies. Still, I'm back doing my daily jogs already but the brain-floaty feeling I've had since the surgery hasn't abated. Admittedly that's why I haven't gone back to finish Daud's missions-- it's hard to concentrate like this. I'm not sure why it is.
Oh yeah, and Leon is a huge Dishonored fan, it's adorable. He told me back before we even beat the story mode and so he's been helping when he can. His thing is stealth, even moreso than me (Jewel is all action of course), so when we need to explore we'll let him take over if he wants. Nathaniel sticks around to watch and comment on it too, especially since now he's intrigued by the flowery aesthetics of the witches. Either way it's great, we're all enjoying this. I will try and get some time in on Monday (I can't get near the Xbox on weekends) so I'll keep you posted.

+ I've spend the past two days watching Gravity Falls on a whim, as I've been curious about it since it originally aired... and again, I've been terribly dissociated enough recently to have an excuse to watch something for an extended period of time. It's cute, but I'm uncomfortable with a lot of the jokes and topics? I've never been good with TV shows. So heartspace is making sure no tar/plague stuff gets fed, and I'm just thanking heaven that I haven't had any fiction lag from it (which is hell on earth for me). The only effect so far has been vocal bleedover, which makes it hard to tune into internal speech because there's too much auditory residue. Really, if I listen to something for too long, especially a voice, it will color the way I percieve things internally for a while. That's why I don't like exposing myself to too much, TV or music or movies or anything. It really fuzzes up my head. Anyway I just started Season 2 and I'm looking forward to see where this is going, stuff just got super serious dude.

+ DREAM WORLD. I have been trying so hard to get back into it and today I struck gold-- I had to head to the farmer's market to buy more kabocha squash (the food of the gods) and on the way up, I decided to fight the brain fog by reciting the entire old draft from memory. So I started with Part One ("It was a beautiful day in the Dream World" etc.) and I got up to the scene where they find Crysta in the city when BOOM, it hit me. "Wait a second, then that means--" and then I got on this fantastic tangent of plot development that I had entirely overlooked before. Thanks 10-year-old me for somehow writing relevant stuff into the story before you even knew what the story was! Honestly it's creepy how DW grows so perfectly, creepy but incredible. So I'm excited to see what this unearths. as I still have so many questions about world mechanics and history and the like.
Also. While I'm thinking of it, I think I need to try "tuning into" character vibes again. It's totally different from heartspace; here, you can co-front or mindlink, and we all share a collective life anyway. Not so with Leagueworlds. I have to stay an observer, while still being able to feel intimately enough the "aura" of that person; what they are like, not as words but as a feeling. Once I get that to click, then the Links kick in, and story writing happens. However I was thinking about that today and I was shocked to realize how many people in DW don't have Links like that going. Vez does, Nebisai does, Justice does, Maitru does (thank heavens)-- which explains why I feel so much more comfortable writing for them, why it's so easy. But I can't get into Jigaria's head, so to speak. I can't see through Eidmonev's eyes yet. It's worrisome but it's a driving fire in my heart to do that, to get to know them better as people, to love them more completely. That's my #1 thing to do, as I literally cannot do anything else until I have that base to work from. It's their story, it's their life, their world-- I'm just writing it down. So this is a huge soul-deep relief, to finally know what to do next, and how to do it. Growth is guaranteed once I begin. I can feel it and it's so nice.

+ There was a night, I don't know when, but something bad had happened and I ended up staring at the light in the bathroom ceiling at like 1AM. I felt half-alive and even less awake, but as I stared at it numbly all I could see were sparkles. Like literal dancing sparkles, bright white, all swirling around the light in my vision (and only the light). No matter what I did they kept glowing. I ended up smiling and laughing softly, but with real childlike happiness, as I watched. It felt... like, no matter what had just happened, there was this still. There was still light and joy even now. And the same went for me. I went to bed without fear then.

+ I saw Markus yesterday. It was right after therapy, he was calling Genesis to come upstairs and keep him company for a while? He was feeling unsettled and needed someone to talk to. But that struck me, because not only is his vibe stronger than ever, as well as his visuals... but he feels closer. Like now that the Outspacers are settled in, they no longer feel "outside" at all. There was always a sort of distance before, but now they feel like they are rooted into heartspace just as much as the rest of us. Markus did say something to that effect but it was more of a wondering thing, like he wasn't sure. I haven't seen Ryman about but I know he's dealing with personal issues right now so I won't push the issue.
Markus had roses in his hair, when I saw him. Two of them, deep red against that dusty purple hue. Tha's new. But I'm... moved, in a secondhand way, that he took that motif on so strongly after he recieved it from Jewel way back when. It's significant. She's grateful for it.

+ There's a new kid in heartspace, I think. Lately when we need to listen despite this heavy headfog, someone has been 'shadowing' in order to do that. They're a Sky holder, and they aren't human-- they have big big ears, like a bat or something. Nevertheless when they are around it's borderline tangible, which is always something to take note of. No face yet, but definite roots growing.

+ There was a hack a few days ago. That's all I know. It was at night, and it resulted in a solid hour of Retributors screaming into the voice recorder. I haven't listened to it yet because it's shocking. It's jarring in a heart-wrenching way. Whenever audio files appear on the recorders, it takes me ages to get through them. To hear people talking through the body... it's surreal, it's wonderful, it's painful. In the wake of such an event it leaves me unable to respond, feeling both a tearfully relieved gratitude that they are there, that they care, that we survived-- and a horror that tears at my stomach and ribs, a sick nausea at knowing why they are there, why they are sobbing and shouting... why I wasn't there to hear them when it happened. It's so jumbled. But I'll have to take time tomorrow and transcribe it, if I can stomach it. I know there was a hugely important revelation when all was said and done, so... I'll do it, somehow. Me or someone else. But it'll be written out.


That's all I can think of tonight. I hope everyone is doing well.

 

 

 

update for october 15th 2014


early today, went to the farmers market to get some food. it started to pour rain. jay stood in it smiling broadly, rain is sort of a synchronistic thing between him and cz and he'd been concerned about a "drought" lately, on a heart level. but this felt like the exact opposite, so that meant so much.

javier spoke to jay shortly earlier in the day too, he was scared of what was being put into the red slot. not much was said but it was a powerful concern.

headspace memory picks up around 6pm?
infinitii. slipping badly into tar territory. with jay. wreckage almost triggered, kept out by unknown socials. jeremiah showed up, angry, to protect kids. jay was around by then, said the situation was too volatile, was trying to get infi to calm down. jeremiah stuck around and did not leave, shocking, but he refused to let the children get hurt should anything go wrong here.
infinitii overwhelmed by vice, vibe totally off. jay LUCID and not hateful or apathetic, telling infi "I cannot do that for you, I'm sorry." much conflict there, as infi was reacting with heartbroken anger? "i love you, why won't you let me express that." but lethal context limits. plus there are lots of "blurred boundaries" as far as infi is concerned.
later, infi scared of being a "whore," jay saying ze is not, ze is not defined by hir darker tendencies, so to speak. plus that word does not apply at all.
infi wanted to be alone for a while. jeremiah still caught the pain to buffer it from the kids, that was awful to realize

talking to headspace later. started at 9:30? terribly tired.
jay and laurie first. listening to old voice recordings. "why'd you lay down the law on mel," what triggered that? jay said old hurt, mostly projection. we have no real memory so things got skewed. but the relationship was sadly not working, so putting it aside was needed anyway. however there is purely positive memory data IN the voice recordings so that was beautiful to tap into.

slipped into imagining in that context, what if laurie was channeled again, what would it be like this time? kept falling out of "what-ifs" though, both she and jay preferred literal communication. jay was also wondering if it was possible to channel infi at all. laurie at one point said "infi feels like a church" and to that, jay asked "even on hir worst days?" laurie caught the implying vibe and sternly asked "what happened." so the topic switched to earlier, with infi. laurie hadn't heard, unsurprisingly.

mention of the lime/sky slots feeling somewhat hesitant for potential? like they were still "growing into" actual colors.
lynne walked in, listening to a few more voice files, then stopped and just talked.

javier came in shortly after, in tears, revealed it was about the infi situation earlier. jeremiah had told him about it, as much as he could. javier was worried for him and the kids, as well as for himself-- the red slot is the closest to the black slot and that keeps bleeding into his function via subconscious programming.
javier yelled at jay about this at first (not angrily, just in pain), this got more info out about the infi situation in general.
his visuals were slipping, said this was because of the current red core instability, the tar kept trying to "rewrite his role" and he was distraught over it. said he "needed a bodyguard," but none of the retributors seemed fitting for the job (it'd be too much of an extra role). to that, lynne said she'd do it, as well as spine. "I'll shield you." she said it'd be pretty cool, plus she cared about him as her spectrum neighbor already. javier thanked her sincerely for that.

xenophon walked in, saw jay and curled up on his lap. she was tired but heard us around and stopped by. while she was there though, the immediate concern was again about her parentage, as jay is not her literal father and he is struggling with the "role." we figured out that the main problem was actually tied to the word 'dad.' the energy was tangibly linked to EROS, it was triggering his residual bloodline whenever jay heard it. xennie said she could just call him "jay," elaborated that "eros had never been there for her" and plus he was "mean once." either way, she said jay was her best friend and she loved him like a father regardless. jay said the "stepfather" term still fit, if she wanted, xennie said that was okay too.
however jay and cz had been discussing this last night-- neither of them really matched the "father" title and had taken it on without understanding the implications. so jay then said that maybe they could be her 'guardians' instead? xennie gasped and said "like dream world?" jay said yes. xennie loved the idea, ultimately decided cz is her guardian but jay is instead her "royal protector" to reference dishonored. she said laurie is also 'her bodyguard' which was cute.

discussed daemons with xennie there. figured out they are "right on the line" between vice and virtue; they are the "potential" to be either at any time. this is the key to their function: they elicit love from their core-souls, but also terror. they allow those most damaged and frightening parts of the psyche to be actively forgiven, healed, and accepted.
jay said infinitii's main "vice" was lust, effectively-- or at least the potential to be it. infi runs mostly on the spiritual battleground between "sacred sex," total purity and chastity, and carnal desire. there is a ton of fear and conflict there.
jay explaining that the biggest problem was that, he does love infinitii avidly, but he cannot be afraid of hir. and so when infi gets into dangerous territory jay is all too willing to forgive that as it happens. but today was monumental because jay asserted himself and recognized that what was healthiest for him was not what infi wanted/needed. this is new territory for him. it took courage and self-love to admit that he did love infi but their methods of expressing that did not mesh, at least not at that time. again the only reason why infi keeps using dangerous contexts is because that is what has been programmed into the subconscious, it is "obligatory behavior" based in confusion. so infinitii is suffering more than anyone else, according to jay. jay said that he will do everything in his power to help infi through this, he will not give up on hir ever.

as for other daemons, jessica's ("chocoloco") is wrath, markus's is assumedly pride, and ryman's appears to be envy? unsure, markus is very afraid of his daemon and ryman is pretending his doesn't exist, effectively.
xenophon asked how one gets a daemon, jay said it's "an extreme reaction" when someone gains enough internal conflict that it needs to be externalized to be healed. so it was better to love oneself strongly enough to not need a daemon. xennie said that was good.


later concern with "context-locked behavior?" tied to past core residue, and social fronters. tied to "why it's so hard for jay to front in the body," also worries about jess.
"heal" versus "transmute," lynne said the latter was better. it didn't have the implication of something "needing to be fixed"

archivists. "level windows" opened in the air for them as usual, we could see into where they were without going there. sherlock had a hair change? visuals not locked in yet. said jay could find it.
lynne complimented isadora's hair ("I could never get mine that perfectly straight"), isadora in turn complimented kalisha. also her "selective mutism" clarification, more like "I can talk but prefer not to use speech to communicate." also parallel between blue instability with not speaking, that did not apply to orange.
(later, garrison apparently tries to stay "tapped in" to active data whereas isadora and kalisha don't. this is why he's the "go-to guy" for immediate data and not them.)

jewel was "triggered" around here too BUT through a level split, not fronting! she was waiting for us to finish because she had been working on dream world.
ABOUT THAT, sherlock pointed out that we know what the gap really is-- we kept thinking of league people as CONCEPTS, instead of people!! we forgot that we can literally visit or talk to them, they aren't just ideas. once that is recognized actively, the gap disappears. this is why "discussing" leagueworlds in the past never worked, as it put them back on a conceptual level.
on that note lynne kept making jokes about "quantum mechanics" as far as the "observation makes reality coherent" idea goes; basically subatomic things allegedly only exist in a "state of potential" until consciously observed, then they take on a specific state? said that seemed to apply strongly to headspace too. jay said that was actually super important to keep in mind, oddly it cancelled out the doubt too. there's no questioning that we ARE when you're upstairs, after all.

laurie and lynne walked xenophon to bed
javier kissed jay, tearfully and without warning, followed by a total emotion spill on the "red instability" topic again. he admitted, surprisingly, that he understood what it was like for jay and infi, because he'd been with infi once too, and also with eros. and that is why he was scared and angry, because the lack of coherency and awareness in those situations-- followed by the fear and pain and blind consequence-- was something he was struggling to get a grip on as well. he didn't know what to do either. jay said that they both just needed to be more assertive? effectively. knowing that it was not wrong to say "I have different needs here" even if that meant they had to leave the situation entirely.
jay said he'd help him at any time, however he could. either way.

jeremiah eventually came up to get javier, said he "heard them talking" from below. paused upon seeing jay, just told him to be careful, "don't ever let that happen again." not angry, just solemnly concerned, shaken.

not long after, wreckage appeared rather suddenly, from circular stairwell. mood was shockingly calm, compassionate. said she wasn't mad at jay or infi, she heard about it and she "knew more than you know" due to being chthonic; black energy seeps into their level quite a lot, they have inherent knowledge of it that people don't realize as a result?
TAR VS SAND, she summoned some black energy and turned it from the first into the second. illustrating previous points. then added, "you're not corrupt," said NO ONE in the system was. there were only flaws or "taints?" like it was all surface-level. she knew this now. jay said "but my blood is black," wreckage said "then keep it dreamsand," if it was truly corrupt it'd kill him, it would be tar not blood. jay nodded understanding, that was true on a few levels. wreckage said it was the same with infi, ze was not corrupt even after hir fears of it today. emphasized this.
laurie said this was "new" for her, behavior-wise (she started out as our most violent retributor). wreckage said it was because she'd been thinking of her color lately, what it meant to be GOLD of all things. it demanded honor and compassion and strength. so she was simply acting more in tune with herself there.
either way wreckage left on a very hopeful note, which was amazing really, jay said he was very glad she was nicer now because he "always liked her"

lynne and jay talking, trying to be less distant. lynne put her arms around his shoulders, jay immediately froze up a bit. lynne laughably said to him "I'm attracted to girls" to let him know he was safe, as far as that context went-- programming was putting walls up. then she said she'd like for him to think of her as a best friend, like laurie. added that she wanted to see him think of everyone in headspace like that, which is his wish too.
jay hugged her, said she smelled like rosin and "peach pie filling." lynne thought that was hilarious, loved it.

laurie and jay talking for a while at the end. strong visual data, even after so long.
jay said there was a feeling of profound safety and strength about her. she said that whenever he needed that, she'd be there.

ultimately, everyone agreeing that "going upstairs" is effectively meditation, it's instantly centering and calming and it feels like it works on totally different brainwaves (hence the trouble writing things down afterwards; there is a tangible shift when you go back into the body). we're talking a lot more lately, but all agreed that we should try to have at least one solid hour, if not two, dedicated to nothing but headspace communication every evening. we did this in the winter I think? either way it would help us across the board.



that's all we have for today, it's almost 1am so there is no time to add on now.
hopefully that covers everything. see you tomorrow.

 

 

All right, a few things.

First off I've been feeling odd feelings about the previous entry. It needed to happen, that is true. That sort of thing has been boiling under the surface for months, never abating, no matter what was done or not done.
However last night I dreamed about it, that Mel-- the person I was writing to/about-- was talking really angrily/ depressed at me about it? And I didn't understand why they were so bitterly offended, but they were, so I tried to calmly sit down and explain it to them.
Anyway that's how I feel. This person, in the previous entry, who I am having trouble dealing with in the waking-- they are a super nice person, extremely talented, very brave, unfailingly determined, just an incredibly good person. But we haven't been "friends" for... four years? Were we ever really friends? See, I don't remember. I don't know who was the core way back when we knew them, assumedly. And that's a huge part of the problem. No matter how nice a person Mel is, we don't remember them, and our friendship is just unfixable at this point. There are too many gaps, too much is missing. It's in tatters and the glue will not hold. I can feel that, objectively, and it's about time I just shrugged and let it go. I'm driving myself mad trying to make a coat out a few frayed threads. We will never be able to rebuild what we allegedly had, not from where we are now. And even more importantly, right now, I feel that I don't need to. I feel that I shouldn't. That is not what I need now. They are not what I need. No offense, it's just a truth. The time they had a role to play in my life ended two years ago, and the foothold is gone now. That's over, the river has moved on, and I'm okay with that. Time moves, life flows. I'm thankful for what happened, for what let us grow, and now here we are somewhere else.
The problem is, I don't know what this is like on their end.
Mel says a lot, that we inspire them, that we are a light to them. And that's lovely, I'm very glad we can be that for them. But why couldn't we continue to do that distantly, disconnectedly, without the emails and messages and things? Mel and I could never converse face-to-face, or in messages. It never worked. That's why our visit to SLC collapsed. We couldn't function on that level. And that's just how it was. So I'm cutting the threads. But do they need them?
I guess it's not my problem. I hope it's not, because I don't have the strength to shoulder their problems anymore. "Is that selfish?" I wonder, as always. Is it though? They looked to me for support. It was apparently fine, two years ago, when they knew us as people in a screen. Then they stopped reading, and now out of the blue they come to us again, trying to talk to us directly, saying they need us. I don't understand and it's confusing and I feel awful, because I can't do things this way but what if this is the only way for them?
That's why this isn't working. There's no harmony. I'm trying to compromise but that's not working either. It's in tatters. It's over, let's go. We haven't lost anything, really, and that's why I'm at peace here. I know Mel's losing nothing by letting us return to how we've always been, where we can still help them and others without burning ourselves out. And they have so many good people in their life, far better people than us. I'm happy knowing that.
I guess, we'll always be here to listen, that's what I should say. They can tell us anything, as long as they do not demand a formal-letter response in return because we can't do that anymore. They can come to us as a listening ear and that's fine. But we can't do the talking anymore, not now at least. We don't know how.
Sorry, if that's the right word. It's more of a... "I'm sorry that came out so raw and ugly and pained. I didn't know how else to say it. But I'm thankful it was said. I meant no harm to you and wish you well." Does that work? I really do. We all do.

We're letting go of that entire block of time in our life entirely, actually. It's for the best.
We don't remember 2007 through 2009, 2010 is in fragments, 2011 didn't include them at all, and 2012 is missing but fragments linger there too. Anyway it was not a good time for us, everything tied to Utah and those people (who are good people! we were just not in a good state of mind when we knew them). So honestly, now that we're in a place where we CAN let go of it in peace and gratitude and happiness, without any pain or regret, then let's do it! It's about time! It's freeing, really. All of that was like a weight. Too many expectations and associations that we felt chained to, just bad energy residue. Let it go. It played its part.

Jessica has been causing the most trouble of anyone lately. Every time we hear her name she gets triggered, and that's happening oddly often lately. Jess is full of angry hate and self-loathing, as you know, and she screams all the time. She's VERY hard to handle because her vibe is so primal and harsh. You can't suppress it or it explodes. You can't ignore it because it keeps burning the house down. All you can do is dissociate entirely, so entirely that the distance pushes her far away enough for the feeling to dim out. Then slowly you bring consciousness back, figure out where you are and what you're doing, and then move on. It's tough, but it's the only things that works. Total instant unplugging. Dead-eye zone. The fogbanks. That's hir role, really; numbess can be very beneficial when used correctly.
Today was the first we heard from Jess since surgery, which was surreal, because it's been so peaceful without her around. We had a near-breakdown from the shock of it, but we're cool now. Simeon's words keep sticking with me, what he said about me, that's resonating and I don't want to let him down so I'm keeping the peace.


What have we been doing lately...
Surgery was on Friday. We talked about that, all we can remember.
As for everything else, there is only one word:
DISHONORED.
We bought it for the Xbox (which is ours now, yessir, the boys bought a new one) and we have been playing since Friday night. Our beloved friend E recommended it to us and oh man are we ever glad they did.
It is amazing. I've been trying to put into words just why that is for me, and it's coming in pieces; we're not done with the game yet, but so far there is so much relevance that is so easy to miss, it's not surprising though.
Spoiler warning, let me just ramble about this now.
Things I love and/or things that are personally relevant about Dishonored so far...
1. E pointed out the "glowy oceany solitude" that has caught our eyes unfailingly since the start of the game, such as in the oil lamps and the fact that it's a coastal town. That vibe is so lovely. I want to learn more about the whales though. I really do.
2. The game also has this general atmosphere of space and quiet that is perfect, even in the creepy places. It is exactly what my dreams are like, it is how headspace is built. Just open space, potential paths, and the ability to move through it all as a ghost if one so wishes. I am such a wanderer at heart, and being able to do that unfailingly in this game, in fact being encouraged to... it's bliss. I can sneak through an entire town, taking three or four hours, and no one will see or hear me. I will hop from rooftop to rooftop, I will creep through the canals, I will pass through abandoned houses, and the entire time I will leave no trace of myself but absence. And I love every moment of it. That brings us to point three!
3. I didn't realize until today, that Corvo's manner is oddly how I prefer to live-- not just the free, unfettered wandering, but also the related taking. Pocket change on the floor? It's in my pockets now. Food on the table? That's my breakfast now. Ammo strewn about, notes left out, all open territory for me. I read every book I can open, I listen to every audiograph. Basically... I take from the void. Put something into that neutral ground, into that space where the player character can touch it, and I will do so with gratitude. And that is how I live in this house currently, or at least how I prefer to when I can, between jobs. I get my money from pocket change and generosity. I get my food from what is left out, or given to me. I live on scraps and abandoned things, but I love it in a way. I think it's because I can't exactly live in the woods and have what I need growing or available all around me already. I have this odd deep yearning to be so free and independently dependent on the world to provide. It's hard to put into words, but really... Dishonored got the vibe down perfectly. I enjoy it so much.
4. Funny bit: on the mission with the Boyle party, if you get into the doorman's post in the back, there is stuff left out on tables. So naturally I walked in, looked around, and what do I see but an apple on the table. My health was a bit low, so sure, I grabbed it-- and immediately the doorman goes, "my apple! Who do you think you are!" Honestly I started laughing so hard I was wheezing, it was the funniest thing in the world. That apple was not in neutral territory, though-- I was in this guy's space, that was his lunch, honestly I shouldn't have taken it (and I didn't, ultimately-- I rebooted that save and left his apple in peace). Still I keep giggling at that.
5. Also Samuel is my BFF, he's my favorite character so far. He's a real sweet dude. Also he fits one of my favorite character aesthetics/ attitudes, whatever it actually is, but I have a weak spot for gruff but not super-masculine older guys, as well as people who are that nice in such a simple undemanding way. He's an old sailor and he sleeps in a boat for heaven's sake, it's adorable. I want his sideburns.
6. The Void. I don't know much about it yet, but if Infi and Chaos teamed up to make a floating realm it would look exactly like that. It's this glowy blue place, utterly defying physics, water and whales floating in the air... located nowhere and everywhere, outside of time but holding all of it. And the Outsider, geez, I don't know much about him yet but he's intriguing. "Not good or evil," pitch-black eyes, surroundedn by starry smoke, arcane powers that some call black magic... and described in-game with the following: "the one who walks here is all things. Cradle songs of comfort and bones gnawed by teeth." I adore that quote. But that's all Infi's sort of thing, really. And the Tar's. So that's relevant. But we shall see how this plays out.
7. Speaking of the Tar, there's a plague in the city. Yeah. Specifically it's a rat plague, a sickness put there on purpose, for what one claimed was "good intent" but which could never live up to that. Those stricken become shuffling, bleeding monsters, losing their sanity to brain fog and suffering... and I cannot forget how Laurie reacted in 2009 or so, when her anchor begin to slip. She bled too, she fell ill too, just like this. Call it a stretch, but I'm seeing Tar/Plague relevance in that whole disease. Anything to keep us aware...
8. The first item you get from the Outsider is a heart. A literal freaking heart, thanks Outsider for making me hilariously flustered right off the bat. It's so unusual though. It's not dead or alive-- it's all stitched up, and inside it are wheels that glow and move, when it senses certain items... bone charms. Carved bits of whalebone, tied to the Outsider, sensed by this Heart. And the Heart can talk to you telepathically, somehow, telling you secrets about where you are or who you're with. And I love it it is the coolest concept even if it's terribly distracting for obvious reasons.
9. I also want to learn more about the relation between the Abbey of the Everyman and The Outsider, more details really, as I find spiritual philosophy very interesting and this one is fantastically gray. That whole religious bit feels a lot like my own personal struggles in the matter, especially as of late. I'm sure I will learn something from it by the end. Oddly this game is hitting me more through osmosis; I'm soaking it up really, no huge shocks like I usually get from games. But the constant absorbing feels fantastic too.
10. About those bone charms again. They are so interesting to me, those and the runes. Lately in the game I'm finding plague victims gone mad from these charms, protecting and venerating them to extremes, at the cost of their own health and sanity. The charms often end up in shrines, beautifully strange things, all indigo curtains and glowing lamps. They glow with a black vapor, and they make this odd sound somewhere between scraping and singing. Really weird stuff like that is totally my cup of tea, especially on a personally symbolic level-- since my childhood I've been oddly obsessed with the intersection of raw intimate life and the ethereal, overwhelming awe of magic and divinity. Stick them together and I am hooked. The thought of Corvo wandering around with darkly enchanted pieces of whalebone in his pockets, carrying those magical relics of a once-living thing, rattling about and humming in the dark... it's great. Sorry for all the vague language, I just love this game.
11. Nothing else to say for now except that I am currently on mission #7 (biggest plot twist ever wtf) and I still haven't touched all the downloadable content so there is a lot to do yet, thank goodness.


Let's see, it's almost 1AM.
It's AUTUMN and the woods outside is all golden yellow, I swear I will find a working camera and take pictures for you tomorrow. It's too beautiful.
Our neighbor says I am welcome to come over and pick apples next week (once we get our surgery staples out), and although I'm definitely going to (apple picking is my first memory actually), I'm iffy because the body keeps getting sick from fruit. Still! But we have a theory that it's only fresh stuff, so we'll see if that applies. Either way next week we will get apples. It'll be great.
My father also brought me a ton of vegetables straight from the local farmer's markets, which I am deeply thankful for. I can't drive for at least another week, plus that stuff adds up, so I appreciate it more than I can say. I got carrots and broccoli and beans and cucumbers and squash and all sorts of things, which is awesome. My dad is just awesome in general, really he's what I aspire to be. He visited me in the hospital post-surgery, visited me at home both days on the weekend, and called to check on me on Monday and Tuesday as well. My mother called once today, and was at the hospital to see me as she had work that day and she works there. Nothing bad against my mother, she's more stressed and scatterbrained, but even when she wasn't she was never really a mothering type. I don't even know what a 'mother' would be like, hilariously. But I'm not too comfy with the "smothering closeness" that parental title elicits in my head anyway, so having a distant but unconditionally helpful father works well enough. Still, my mother is just as fantastic in her own right-- plus she at least ganks her boyfriend's garden vegetables to give to me when she can, and I must thank her for that because then I get free beets and that is boss. But back to the weather!
I went walking outside for about an hour today, and at one point I was thinking about Dream World typecodes again... I apologize for the lack of updates on League stuff lately, I just really needed a break from the sheer data mountains. The typecodes are arguably the worst! But it's coming together slowly, it's a lot less complicated than I thought, which is a HUGE relief. I was thinking too much, making it too complex. One thing I've learned is that Dream World is shockingly intuitive as far as worldbuilding function goes, something which Vezerai taught me years ago ironically. Even for me, it's so much easier to feel how typecodes work, and how Power Jewels work, and what it's like to do this or that, as opposed to thinking about them, or trying to explain them in words. Which poses a problem here! But images could work. If I could figure out how to structure images, to catch more of that feeling, it could work. I'll try in any case.
Also you know how for a few months my personal Jewel Monster form overlay has been a green Kaiteo? Well my coloring has changed to the autumn orange form, which I found pretty awesome. My wings are blue now!
Oh yeah and on that note, blue Kaiteo (the winter coloration) have longer hair than the other colorations. However, Sikeiru is a blue Kaiteo with very short hair. Why is that? She trims it! I had no idea, no wonder she feels punky, that's adorable.

I have been remembering my dreams lately. I keep a voice recorder by the bed now so as soon as I wake up, I get a stream-of-consciousness record down (writing was too slow and too detached from memory). I haven't put any into homefive yet because honestly I've been avoiding the computer, and it takes hours to transcribe my longer dreams sometimes, which is exhausting. But I don't want to slack off, so once I'm entirely done with my first run of Dishonored I'll do it, hehe. I'm sorry but I don't want to totally shift my focus mid-game, you know how my brain goes all-or-nothing.
But that's why I brought up dreams. I have literally been dreaming in the style of that game since Friday. The atmospheres match, my movements and actions match, the people I meet match. It's a little unsettling when I wake up (it's a bit of a dark vibe of course) but it's fascinating nonetheless. Last night, I dreamt that I was being tracked by this mob of guards/ Overseers who wanted to kill me, as I had allegedly committed some act of treason or blasphemy and I must die. We were by my house and the only way I could escape fast enough was by sliding down the back hill, down towards the place where wolves usually are in dreams. I reached the bottom and started jump-running to cover more distance, making it over the river and expecting to have to go back up the other side of the hill to the road... but there was no hill. It opened up into open sky, a sheer cliff drop, and the sea. I paused, then leapt in, and was out safe. But the sea! There has NEVER been water there in dreams, not an ocean, not in my life. It was always the road, always that road where people would die or get lost. Never an ocean, never deliverance and freedom. So that feels significant too.


...There's a line that the Heart says to you in Dishonored, which has been playing repeatedly in my head since I heard it.
"Their fate rests on your effort... on the strength of your hands, and of your heart."
I cannot get it out of my mind and I am glad. Nothing could be more relevant to life right now.
Headspace has been quiet but not empty lately. The video games have changed the focus, but no one is gone, or distant, which is a big distinction and an important one. I've seen absolutely everyone in the past week at one time or another, which feels amazing. Visuals are clearing up again too, as are vibes. I'm still spending my nights with Laurie and Chaos and Infinitii, but Genesis is taking time off as his job is daytime guidance and I haven't been going out for him to do so. I also haven't seen much of Xenophon due to the pervading mindset wars over that, which I am going to have to get unflinchingly gutsy with sometime soon, too. Just like the previous entry, but this time focused around the stress and dissonance of parental titles and family programming. It is honestly driving me insane because I won't fully face it, as I'm afraid of upsetting someone else. I need to take that risk now. I really do, I cannot be a good father or anything to Xenophon if I won't admit to myself and her that the very word makes me want to run. Things need to be cleared out... let's do it, as I said before.
I think Eros is being pushed into the main Cerise slot, by the way. He's getting clarified and his color keeps lightening. We'll see.
Sherlock is helping Laurie more actively, Waldorf is talking to me more, she got one hell of an anchor boost from this whole game thing and the events prior... things are good. I wonder how Sergei and Hyakinth are though, I don't think they've ever seen summer and I'm curious as to how they'll react to it. Oh and lastly we got Knife to switch his metal cross necklace out for one more like this, and he loves it. Wear your color with pride, man.
My boss has been around again too, off and on. Bad voices kept trying to imitate him for a while, but his vibe is unmistakable. I know when it's really him.


It's 1:11 AM, the universe keeps tossing numbers at me. That has meaning assigned to it by me, and it keeps happening despite the tough parts, which feels hugely comforting and reassuring. We saw 11:11 during that near-breakdown tonight. I think maybe it was meant for Jessica, as hope. She needs it too.

...Speaking of synchronicity, maybe?
I'm listening to Creature by Mesita right now, which I swear was written specifically about Chaos and I, as it is too perfect and you will not convince me otherwise. And the concluding words begin like this: "we don't have to do anything, we can stay in bed all day..."
I can barely remember the mornings when CZ and I would wake up and then just lie there together, in that floating place between sleep and the waking, where dreams melt into each other and the subconscious sings aloud. It's a dangerously beautiful place, but we used to just be there, quiet and perfectly content with everything, untouchable by anything that could harm us.
Tomorrow my grandparents are going to be at a doctor's appointment, and so the house will be quiet for a few hours. Maybe we should sleep in, for a little while, and remember.
I just... the tides, the notes, are catching on my heart a little, and lately I haven't felt much of anything that I can remember so maybe I need this.
Caught up in a wave, and it can't be stopped.
Our relationship has been odd lately. We need distance between us, of a sort, that we've accepted. I'm aromantic and I can't do the relationship" thing, but Jewel did, and Chaos learned from her. He was full-on empath mode for years and he picked up on so much from her. With that Ruby in his chest, he will always be warmer and brighter than I "remember," when I'm only looking at his canon past, pieces from a decade ago, forgetting that time didn't stop for him like it did for a large part of me. But something in my heart keeps floating back towards him, and I'm not going to fight that either, even if the space between us feels like the void right now. There's so much space, so much emptiness. I'm not sure how to love anymore when there's nothing to work with. And yet... here I am. Here I am, trying, and feeling aqua-fragile truths in those notes nevertheless. Whatever this is, it's real somewhere, somehow.

On that note, everything in this tag is either about us or me specifically. Yes I went through all of it.
I told you this game is important, haha. Honestly I am excited.


Now really, Corvo and I both need to get some rest because tomorrow we're gonna go visit Daud and who knows what's going to happen.
See you then~ *jumps out through the window*

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today has been odd.


This morning feels years old already, thanks to dissociation and forced extra sleep.
I was hacked. I will not sugar coat those incidents any more, I will not, I will NOT.
There have been so many hacks over the past several months, but no one has been writing about them here, because they've been JUSTIFYING them. They've been saying, "oh well I asked for it," or "did I ask for it?" or "but they wanted it," or "it doesn't matter," or "I don't want to remember," et cetera. It's basically impossible to tell when they happened now, let alone who they happened to, because of the massive time and identity loss that happens with them, to try and protect the consciousness of those who need to front afterwards.
So this morning I was hacked. They are very common in the mornings, between 5AM and 9AM usually. They don't happen at night because at night the children act as alarm bells, crying out in pain and terror to save us. Jeremiah shows up, Wreckage shows up, Sugar shows up, Algorith shows up. Either way people get furious and protective and we end up safe.

There's always one seethingly furious female social who protests, even at the expense of the children's safety. She is full of rage and hatred, and for reasons unknown she tries to push us into hacks and then forces us to dissociate entirely, making it difficult to escape. We don't know who she is, what her motives are, or anything yet, but she's OLD and she's disturbing. Her actions seem motivated entirely by programming, a fusion of "expected and/or obligatory behavior" and self-abuse. The head hurts to look at her motives so let's not.
In any case. There was a hack this morning. We have no data of it save for the last ten seconds, as that spiked into trauma territory, and the sudden self-preserving fear caused a moment of self-awareness. Therefore there is one little memory. It's hard to mention as it is so discordant and shocking to the Core that he does not want to look at it.
What we have is: Chaos showed up, all too suddenly, and he did not feel like him. He felt and spoke like Q (the only face tied to such behavior). The person fronting was shocked into awareness then, both from disbelief and terrible pain, shouting for him not to do it, for him to stop. Then the memory blacks out sharply, as he did not.
There was "forced sleep" then, for at least two hours, as the body could not cope with the shock and pain and so that was our only recovery option. There was a dream about Christmas cookies, stairwells, government agents, melted holiday candles, and the mother in a wedding dress. Everything felt gray and hospital-cold and overcast. It was a whimpering sort of fright, but Jay says that at the "stairwell part" there was a Christmas vibe and he can't let go of that, so the dreams don't "feel bad" as a result. This is good, that there was indeed a light of healing even amidst the flatzone vibe of the rest of it.
Even so, when the body woke up, the main fronter had one thing in mind and that was Chaos is not allowed around here anymore.

This event raises many many questions.
CZ's been 'feeling' off for months now, as everyone knows. Being an Outspacer he is mentally "split," which for him occurred when he met Jewel in 2003, possibly thanks to internalizing an Order Sapphire at the same time-- which forced a change in his very mode of expression, due to its overwhelming organizational influence (in stark contrast to his inherent 'chaotic' nature). As he spent more time with Jewel afterwards, Chaos developed a sort of "interacting personality" based on her behavior and that of her friends, picking up their quirks and attitudes. Like water, he let himself be shaped, and flowed between extremes. But even before he met us, he had a raw, angry side, brought out only in times of mental taxation, of being "pushed to the brink." Unfortunately for us, as his "social personality" grew, it tapped into that turmoil. Chaos then had a subtle "split" between his quiet, gentle, protective self-- who he was in isolation, living in docile company for many years-- and his new, expressive, powerful self, which he developed based on his environment. Most importantly, now that he had the freedom of environment and a multitude of external impetuses, his "chaotic" potential exploded outwards via optimism, wit, rage, eccentricity, and his infamously amorous behavior in close relationships.
This is hard to put into words and I apologize. I don't have access to a lot of memory here.
The bottom line is, as time went on, that side of him gained strength, which was especially (and disturbingly) notable during the early Soul Form days around 2004-2005, when he had his violent "Infinite" transformations. This was strongly reproved even then, and so such behavior became scarce as time went on. However, recent events suggest that potential was only buried, not erased. Chaos has not literally "gone Perfect" in quite some time, but the Cores have all been vigilantly aware that it could happen any day, and the possibility was tangible. Apparently there has been a lot of "subconscious work" in that area, via the Cores trying to reach out to that part of his psyche, and surprisingly things do not always end well.
Nevertheless I digress. Chaos has been vacillating between his "docile" and "dangerous" modes of mind very frequently recently, at Jay's initial behest-- he had not been able to cope with the latter's behavior and did not recognize it either, for the most part. Their relationship has been an "utter mess" since the Scratch, mostly for this reason, as Chaos has not tried to tap back into his quiet side in what may be years, for all we know.
Again I apologize as old data is very hard to reach right now but I am still trying to educate you at the moment.

But the big question is this. Is this Chaos, or is this the Tar?
The Cores tend to forget, that during the Julie days, she DID pretend to be him for her own ends. This is not new behavior on the Tar's part. The Plague does not act this way, it is a disease, not a monster of mockery. But Chaos has always been terribly susceptible to the Tar, even against his own better judgment. We have perhaps been too trusting, too unwise, to let this go unchecked for so long.
Hopefully this is a situation of hijacking. It feels like it. There is a side of Chaos untouched by this. But it is sharing his form, his psyche, with the part of him that has become too wild and uncontrolled to safely function anymore.

Infinitii is similar but this cannot be helped, as Infinitii consists of the same stuff as the Tar.
Infinitii is well aware of hir slips, of hir inescapable fallibility, of the constant "danger" sign hanging over hir head. As of late this has been taking a heavy toll on hir, but ze is at least keeping this at the forefront of her mind and doing what ze can to heal it, or at least keep it in check. This, indeed, is Infinitii's function-- bringing the darkest, bleakest, filthiest parts of the collective subconscious to our direct awareness, because once such things are made conscious, they can be transmuted.
It is just difficult, when the metaphorical beasts being dragged up from the deep are both ancient and aggressively violent.

Jay is having trouble dealing with this, not just because these two individuals dear to him are struggling so, but also because-- like me-- he has no access to many of the past-Core memories concerning Chaos.
There is a deep love in his heart for him, but it is based in recent knowledge. Jay has begun questioning the inherited emotions from past Cores, as he says they are "turning into obligatory behavior" as well as blind emotional dependency, therefore turning any current relationship into an empty act. Jay says that part of him wants to forget who Chaos was before, if only to "start again" with him know, as Jay is a new person despite the anchor-ties in his soul to a past he does not remember.
He has interacted with both sides of Chaos, AS separate individuals, which is what makes this such a pressing issue. They both behave and identify as their own people, and the more "emotional" side has powerful memories of Spinny, Cannon, Eros, and all those before... while Jay can only look back on their fragmented memories like scattered photos. Jay does not know this side of Chaos, and furthermore he does not know if he wants to, not with the angry outbursts and often-manipulative behavior he shows. So there is dissonance there.

Xenophon is struggling with this as well.
Jay is not her biological father, and can only act as an "adoptive" one to her. Chaos is her father, but he is unsure how to reconcile that fact with his internal breakage, as his older, "calmer" self is not the side tied to her, and Xenophon does not approve with how his angrier self fights with Jay. Furthermore, Jay does not front often. The socials that come out are not always kind to her, although many of them use her father's name as they have none of their own. She sees firsthand how Jayce and Jess and The Destroyer may casually abuse the body. She has seen the active abuse in the past. And so many times, she has been met by eyes that do not recognize her, or who outright reject her as a "daughter," while the face never changes. No child should endure this and yet she stays strong, somehow. Jay says that even if he "doesn't understand this father thing," he does love her, and wants the best for her, however he can provide it. This is a great source of comfort for her, that even if the current Jay cannot grasp this inherited parentage, he is still entirely willing and wanting to be a father figure for her at the very least. He does love her, as best as he can. Chaos does too, although he too is now grappling with this same issue... and his darker side is threatening a metaphorical "divorce" as of late. Jay has no patience for drama so he will not discuss this yet, but he is concerned. You can see why this is complicated.
I have nothing more to say on that for now. Infinitii is the unexpected third party in this, being Xenophon's "mother," but ze has not weighed in on this issue with the rest of us yet. Again, this is understandable, as ze is struggling greatly with hir own personal troubles as of late.


So that was this morning. Horrible hack, terrible pain, Chaos inexplicably jumping in on it and not feeling like himself at all, then nothing. Total black. Then dreaming, waking up feeling filthy and tired, Infinitii's voice in tears from somewhere to my left. I got out of bed and I have no idea what happened from then until church.
There was an Italian priest from the local Oblates there, he was lovely. The sunlight was coming through the stained glass at just the right angles, making the whole church feel warm and gold. The priest walked into the middle aisle to give the homily, about how "the answers to our problems are right within our own hands," about how God is always willing to take our hands and lead us on in light and forgiveness. He mentioned a scene from The Passion Of The Christ where apparently, after the betrayal in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus is walking over a bridge with his captors and he appears to trip, falling to his knees, a hand slipping over the side... but this was on purpose, for Judas was hiding under the bridge, and Jesus was offering his hand to him? I haven't seen the film, I don't know, but the sentiment of that scene as he told it was not lost. I just wanted to write that down.
We got home and there was so much anger stored in my legs I couldn't bear it; I had to go outside and run and stomp around just so I could breathe without wanting to shriek or cry. It was weird. Still the sun was coming through the trees at the most beautiful angle, just like in church, everything was all red and gold in the evening air.


The next thing I can remember, I'm standing at the kitchen sink with an apple and dissociatedly wondering whether or not I should eat it-- the action felt obligatory, and I know apples usually make us vomit-- when suddenly, I hear music from down the hallway. My brother had his iPod on, and at that exact moment, what began to play but "Blue Ocean Floor."
I stopped dead, and for a moment I was caught between tears and rage. What the heck, of all times and of all songs...!
But the message was obvious. Stop being so unloving towards yourself. If there's one person in the world I want to be 'perfect' for, well, that song was demanding that I fit the bill right then and there. So I wasn't too surprised, but still deeply unsettled, when my body decided no. It decided, "no, fuck him, fuck this, I'm shutting out that reality." I don't know why it was so difficult to put the damn apple down (well hey isn't that relevant too) and leave without passively causing myself more suffering, with those notes ringing through my ears the whole time. But I managed. Somehow I managed.
...Also, I didn't know until two minutes ago, but the first time I ever heard that song was in this entry, from shortly after our first abdominal surgery in 2013... the night before a day plagued with self-abuse and sabotage. I swear that will not occur tomorrow, but... to be blunt, the quieter abuse is so much worse than the old sort used to be. I miss the blood terribly. I'd trade this apathetic "it leaves no scars so it doesn't count" attitude for Cannon's old screaming desperation anyday. At least she felt something. At least she could hope. At least she wanted to get out, and move into something better. She had contrast. She had direction. Now... everything is painted so white, so awfully white, and my lungs are choked with it.




Oh I forgot to tell you, I think the day after our last daily update I DID see Jessica's daemon's face. He got SUPER angry with me and got all up in my grill, and his face is just as shifty as Infi's body is apparently. Those eyes ARE 2D, they multiply and move around, and he has this creepy-as-hell mouth full of teeth that just splits his face open wherever he wants it to, too. I don't know if he has horns or ears or what, but there are at least two long 'spines' of sorts on the top of his head, I think. And instead of legs he has (I think!) long ribbony appendages like his arms? They move all flowy and they are SUPER long, it's creepy to watch him walk. That's how I know, I saw him walk once, with Jessica in his arms as usual. That's weird; he's always holding her like a baby, or she's curled up in his lap like a kid. I wonder if that's part of his role for her, to be some sort of stand-in for comfort that was never given by the parents? Like it would make sense.
He is tied to chocolate and coffee, two edible substances that were "stand-ins for comfort" for many other people in the physical life, notably the mother and brother. And of course we had the coffeeshop as a child, which none of us knew but is now immortalized in the Rosewindow world, and which Jay and Laurie have both visited since. As for chocolate I do not know, possibly that was due to spiritual website claims, or further media promotion, because for us it was negative for most of the lifetime. In fact, chocolate was viewed as a "hacking substance" for several years, and it was avoided under pain of retribution. So it is honestly baffling to see the use of it spike into an addiction in recent weeks, especially since it still tends to cause great pain, fear, and discomfort in the body.
It's the caffeine spikes mostly, they are hellish. That and the sugar, whatever it does to the stomach, it hurts
Chocolate hurts like hell and no one is supposed to eat it, just like fruit. Thank God they stopped but they were doing that for weeks.
Someone is still eating raisins though.
What the heck I told then to stop that!! Those are excruciating!
I know, but it's a sugar addiction of some sort. Perhaps seeking an energy boost.
It could be. That's stored as "educational data." There tends to be an unfair bias towards "outside sources" when it comes to "food orders," as it were.
So if someone tells him he should eat fruit, then he will, even if I said no??
Basically.
...Why??
Because he believes them more than he believes himself, or us, or his own experience. He believes that everyone else knows better than him, even when they don't.
It's not really "he," either. There's a lot of girls doing this.
The "old girls," yes.
Who are they? I keep hearing that name, but...
Jessica is one. Jezebel is another. The "manic red girl" is rumored to be one. For the most part though, Spice, they are faceless and unnamed.
Why?
Because they are old. Pre-System. In the early days, where unhealthy habits and programs have their roots, headspace did not exist as it does now, and so, identities bled together. I assume. We have no data from those times, only a blur of images and feelings and fears.
...I see. Sorry.
For?
For yelling. I get upset about this. Why does it have to be so difficult. Why doesn't Emmett come out more.
Because the girls holding the addictions keep holding him back. Remember, the social environment of the kitchen isn't very safe, and so it's difficult for one of us to front sometimes. The social influence is just too great, so one suited to cope with that gets dragged out. Unfortunately the vibration typically matches.
The bad ones, huh.
Yes Spice, the bad ones. The angry ones and hyper ones and frustrated ones. The ones that make your job a 'living hell' because they refuse to stop abusing themselves, or working by programs. But they have their reasons for existing too. And we need to work with them, ultimately.
So I've heard. ...Guess that's all we can do for now, then.
I suppose so. But it is something. At least we know!
Yeah, it's good to know. I'm glad to know things. Thanks, Sherlock.
Anytime, Spice.




What even is this entry. Who is writing it, I don't know!
All I know is that their is pain in my chest (bad posture! straighten up dude!) and it is 1AM?? So we had better get to bed.

I apologize for the lack of promised updates recently; schedules are not always possible to follow when new and pressing events occur by the day.
Tomorrow we are booked for the first half of the evening though, with a family visit. Outside of that, we do not know. Perhaps we will see you then.

 

 

 

 

Tired and chilly tonight, but here's a quick update to get in the habit again.

-- I spent four hours today peeling pears from my dad's neighbor's house, it was fun.
-- I had to return Dune when I was only up to page 400, oh no. But one other local library has it, so I'll grab a copy on Wednesday and finish it if I am able to.
-- My voice is cracking all over the place and I love it. I have got SICK VIBRATO now when I sing, which is amazing. Also my high notes are mostly falsetto now, which is a little confusing, but at least the lower notes are filling out which feels better anyway.
-- There is also hair coming in on my face and my bro agrees that it is awesome, I am so excited.
-- It was FLYING WEATHER today. It smelled like magic. The one tree in front of our house that turns a vivid soulfire-pink every year decided last night to start doing so. I ran outside for a bit in the grass, arms out, feeling my wings there again. I couldn't stop smiling, there's something really gorgeous in the air lately, I need to go outside much more often now and soak in it.
-- Surgery is in about 10 days, and according to the archives we are actually dealing with a LOT of the SAME STUFF from this tiem period last year. That shocked me a bit, maybe that's part of why we're here again. So I'll be reviewing the archives like mad over the next few days, getting a mental foothold on where we need to heal more completely. We have made incredible progress, true, and a lot is healed, but there are a few loose ends yet.
-- We're trying to figure out the Core/Fronter situation, as the past several updates may have indicated. The current situation has Jayce (the brown-haired "reflection" from many months ago) as the default fronter, solely because of the reflection ties. This young kid named Jesse has showed up a few times over the past two weeks, but he's rooted downstairs so he's unaware of us. No idea what his deal is yet. In any case we're trying to see if Kyanos can front more often, because he was born to do so after the Scratch, and he has VERY strong connections to the physical consciousness as a result (he can front effortlessly). But ultimately the goal is to get Jay in there, which would require "merging the inner and the outer worlds"-- in other words, being able to act in the physical world without sacrificing our inner integrity and selves. It's difficult because so much of the physical existence is still damaged, or viewed as such. This is what keeps dragging out fragments, and fronters like Cannon and Jessica. Until we heal those issues, Jay will NOT be able to stay out fronting, as his anchor forbids it and he gets pulled back in whenever a situation compromises it. However that same thing gives him a huge advantage, as positive triggers can call him out IF they don't get angrily shoved aside or denied by the negative fronters. So it's tricky, but we have a good grip on this now! And we're growing and learning every day.
-- On that note, Jessica's daemon is quickly becoming a major player in our daily life. Since Jessica gets dragged out to front at home often, and she's a mess, he is keeping everything in check where neither she or I can. He is also surprisingly stern and somewhat brutal towards me. I'm used to Infi's boundless soft edge, but this guy is unflinchingly hard. But it reflects in his appearance too. I still haven't seen his legs, but I think they're ribbony too? I also cannot see his head at all-- he specifically will not let me touch or search his energy field, even intuitively, to "see" him (he says only Jessica is allowed near him, and refuses to compromise this)-- but there are at least four big dark red eyes on the front of his face, that looked painted-on? They feel almost like symbols, and keep making me think (unsettlingly enough) of Sahaquiel from NGE. I don't know how relevant that may be (I haven't looked) but I keep thinking of that tar-spider from last fall... whiiiich happened exactly a year ago yesterday. That's absolutely shocking. So we'll see, I definitely have to pursue this now. Anyway, like Infi, this guy also has no visible mouth, but I HAVE "heard" him talk (all daemons so far normally use thought-speak), and his voice is low and oddly uncentered, like it's coming from a stereo direction and not a direct source. I have no idea where his personal "space" is located (yes, so far all daemons seem to exist in their own pocket spaces like Infinitii and hir bubble) but it's a vaguely cappuchino-foam color? And again it is lit in a way that feels completely indirect. It also feels like being at the top of a long vertical shaft, floating barely a foot beneath the ceiling, but with meters upon meters stretching down below you. It's not claustrophobic, just oddly deep and high up both. Oh, but as to how I heard him talk, he's been giving me orders. Infinitii finds it difficult to boss me around (ze prefers to lead by example, and help me to function well enough that I don't need to be bossed around), but recent matters have been very loud and raw and disorienting (the stuff coming up to the surface to be released) so a harsher hand was needed. And honestly, I don't think Infinitii COULD help with this, because all that raw stuff is tied to Jessica, by her very anchor. So her daemon is calling the shots for EVERYONE who dares trespass into that territory, so to speak. I know he's mad at Jayce but he can't reach him, as Jayce is still mostly a social so his innerspace ties are very, very faint. Still, this daemon has force behind him, of a totally different kind than Infi, but just as powerful. Lastly, for whatever reason I keep trying to find his name (he's not happy about that either) and I keep getting the phrase "choco loco" tossed at me. "Crazy chocolate," basically. It's obviously a throwback to the old addictions Jess had to that food, and the awful side effects we'd get from it... the worst of which was a nasty caffeine shock. So maybe that's his way of subtly threatening me again, to stay out of his business. Honestly I should, and I will. I have my own daemon to deal with. I'll talk to Jess about this issue when the need arises, otherwise I won't prod anymore. It's only respectful. In any case that's all I know about him so far.
-- Most importantly, as of late.... about two days ago, I got so sick of those "floating faceless voices" bossing me around that I was in angry tears and we got Laurie to stick around instead. She refused to leave for the rest of the day after that, and... how do I put that into words? I had forgotten what it was like to have a COLLECTIVE deciding on actions and 'orders,' to have a benevolent community working together to exist for the day, instead of one lost separate fronter trying and failing to placate all these strange angry voices. I had forgotten what it was like. So I held on to that in my heart, so thankful for it. Since then I've been calling Laurie every time there's a hint of the voices returning, and we can get right back on the right track. Instead of blind obedience, now we are making educated, wise decisions again. It was like the weight of the world was taken off my shoulders... and put back into my hands to be loved. I miss everyone being around so much. It's been too long since they were this close and tangible in the waking life. Lately I've only been able to talk people in meditations, mind. But now, they're right back in the present awareness.
-- Synchronicity has been EVERYWHERE since then. I am smiling fit to burst from that. My heart is so relieved. I had virtually NO synchronicity with the floating voices, and this sense of inner buoyancy was missing too. Again, it is so good to have it back, with everyone.
-- Zwei was out to sing during mass on Saturday, and she's doing better too! She was unstable for a while, unsure of her purpose, but she really "clicked" all of a sudden and it felt beautiful. I think it's because she's an android like her brother, and she hasn't been "carrying that in" to her fronting until lately. But when she does it's like she relaxes, too; she's more in-tune with her inner self as it is projected into the body.
-- Chaos has been in so many of my dreams lately, both late-night and early-morning (there is a marked difference!). It's odd, because he feels close in them, not just some passing presence or mention. He feels almost tangible even if he's only there for a few seconds. It's like... walking through a video game environment, where you're the only player, and then all of a sudden another player character walks in. And you can feel that bit of life in them, somehow, even if they are thousands of miles away. Anyway that's what it's been like. Something deep in my chest is sparkling quietly just at the thought of it, and that makes me want to do better during the day, too. As we said, it's been tough, but not in a bad way. No one has lost hope, not even in the slightest. I just... ended up in tears today, when this thought hit me that I "wasn't worthy enough" yet, to meet him in this life, or even to move into his. We have an old perfectionist standard to the physical life; there's a lot of guilt and shame there yet, old programming that Jessica is at the center of. It's being healed; I'm being patient with her, and her daemon is outright forbidding me from doing anything even possibly detrimental to her... thank God. I'm very thankful for his severity lately, just as I am thankful for CZ's still-undying compassion, even when he's struggling himself. He's an angel, I swear.
-- Oh! Ryman DOES have a daemon, he's bizarrely insectoid with a pyramid for a head. He's been creeping about for months actually, I just had no idea what the heck he was. I can only see him in soul-shadows yet, just that sort of intuitive vague knowing. So he's hidden, I don't even know if Ryman talks to him. But he exists, if only dimly right now.
-- I might take my laptop to the coffeeshop tomorrow, the one that Genesis and one of our past cores (the female J, I think-- she still went by "spinny" and that's the name I got) used to frequent in the summer of 2009. Man we got so much work done that year, it's incredible. But yes, I'm still getting the typecode system figured out for Dream World, as it's tech work and it's interesting and I want to get it done before I dive back into story progression. Having the "invisible roots" for a story helps a lot, so hey.
-- Leon and Nat were briefly trying to help Jayce out today, with fronting. Later on Leon was backing up Laurie in trying to "talk me back into sense" after a destructive mental state, and I remember him telling her "I care about him just as much as you do-- we all do." That cut through to the heart of me and it did help me come back in.
-- Remind me to draw out the headspace symbols soon, too-- the synaesthetic shapes that are supposed to represent each Spectrum hue. In church the woman sitting in front of me was wearing jewelry in the shape of the Pink symbol, and I couldn't help smiling at that.
-- Lastly, there was a LOT that happened on the 19th and it was wonderful but I will type that up tomorrow!
-- All right now I am terribly tired, have a lovely night everyone.

 

 

Currently following Spinny's paper trail.

2009 is one of our most striking "lost years." We're mostly unsure who the heck was around during that time, but I want to solve it.
There was a bad hack tonight, I'm in pain, I'm scared, and I'm cut off from headspace. I'm trying to stay optimistic though... "death isn't a curse." "This won't ruin you." "No one can ever touch you again." Things like that. I know there are people in this body, in this heart, who carry pain from that in the past... I don't know them, I'm stuck down here. That's fine. I'll do my job the best I can, and keep this away from them.
This isn't Jay. I'm actually... closer to Cannon. I'm not the one they call Spinny, but I was around at the same time as them both. Maybe you can all call me Glissando, who knows.

Anyway. 2009. Let's see what we have.
I feel very close to parts of this year. Like right now, I feel like I should be in the kitchen, typing this journal entry, getting ready for Marywood in the morning. Cannon feels very close to me, like an invisible sibling almost. And there are hints of the boys in here too, but from the future, from beyond my time. I'm old, early college years... I know Genesis, but who knows where he is right now. I'm tied to coffee shops and sketchbooks at night. More of a... photography feeling. A late night sadness, but with hope beneath it. Walking through the rain.
But that's only part of this year, of 2009. Someone else was out during the day, online... some louder girl, someone we don't know. She's gone now, long gone as far as we know... so let me pick up these breadcrumbs once and for all.


JULY 2009


This picture is our main timestamp. She joined tweaktoday in July and we got some photos from it, markedly this one:


A photo of "jwl," but wearing Cannon's clothing. So we're not sure who this is, but it's the only photo we have of them from that time period.


The bookstore I loved. I didn't take this photo. I was never there in the morning. Honestly it's surprising to see the place so bright.

Whoever this person was, they were the LAST person to hold a lot of "old memories." They remembered some things from later childhood and the teenage years, which again suggests they were strongly tied to Spinny (which isn't surprising as they were a social fronter).

Sherlock here. Sorry for interrupting, I felt the data stream and was pulled in.
This is notable. I see we have a new speaker.


Whoever was out in 2009 was also out in 2010, according to later tweaktoday stuff. That's shocking.
Jayce was around during that time. He referenced "co-fronting" with at least one other person during that time.
Obviously.
That would be because NIER was in the life by that time. That's where the male anchor came from at last.

This was the TF2 phase. There's no memory of that, but here's some proof.
Same with the Pokemania. There's list of a Celebi binge around that time.
It was sold before we came to be, though.
Yes. That's why we have no direct memory of it. That was pre-Scratch. What else is here...

There's the Todd Rundgren concert. Does anyone remember that?
*shakes head*
No. Which is sad, because it was marked as a fond memory.
Does anyone else find it unsettling that so many memories are missing?
That's what we're trying to fix here, obviously.

This is getting tangled.
Oh-- no, this is important. That photo, right there. There was a third in the set which is missing due to overwhelming body dysphoria.
Was that tied to the fronter?
Apparently. This was Christmas 2009. The bloodline gender was shifting at the time.
Ah.
So mark that down.

Still a Celebi association in May 2010.
I think we should do this on our own time.
Wait-- there's our last big link. This song is relevant too.
Hm. College?
Yes. Thank you Kalisha, that is the exact memory this is tied too. There was an entry about that somewhere. Garrison?
Yes sir-- right here, this one.
Ah. Thank you. And I agree, let's let Glissando continue this on her own if she wishes. There's too much data to sift through in realtime.

That entry wasn't elaborated upon.
Which one, the Tony Bennett one?
Yes. She was sitting at a sunlit table to the right of the stairs... convinced that she was about to die. And singing. That is such a powerful memory, I can see it.
Strange... that that one moment might be burned into our minds so clearly.
Existential moments normally are.
Thank you, Kalisha. Now let's take a break from this; this is really hurting my head.
Too much information?
Too much tangled information. We can't do this and think at the same time. I'm sorry.
It's okay, Garrison, no need to apologize. Let's let this continue as it will.
Good bye everyone!



...Whoever wrote the poetry during this time period was really damn good at it. They were the first boy, I think. First boy bloodline dude.

I have a few vague but powerful memories from around Christmas 2011, when Julie turned Pink and the God Tier phenomenon started and I got this perfect commission. We were starting to be more active online, and we were working more with the Leagueworlds simultaneously.
We were also apparently selling things around that time... I know that happened, I have one or two flashbulb memories of selling the Care Bears; the laptop was in the hallway at that time, and we had a poster on the wall behind us from Spinny's lifetime.
Then there's a big break... whatever happened then is missing. Then we have handwriting examples, and that feels close, but it belongs to whoever was directly before me. It's when Razor came back and everyone Underground surfaced... honestly the idea that the Undergrounders weren't around at some point is baffling to me, haha. I can't imagine a life without Knife! Just kidding, but seriously. That's weird.

Anyway I'm taking this poor girl's screentime away. She's trying to figure out 2009 apparently, looks like the Archivists were around too for a bit.
2009... let me look. She'll return once she catches an anchor, I have no ties to this stuff outside of the bloodline.

Geez, which boy was this? Eros was dead by 2012... he showed up in early 2011. We had white hair for the second half of 2011 so he was already shifting out by then...
Oh, whoa, hold up, I just remembered. I hope I can find a timestamp for this. Back in the early Gen days, Cannon had Gamboge, or at least her early roots did. BUT there was a shift from her to whoever this Glissando person is tied to:

 

==> who was tied to before the solid NIER-induced gender shift in 2010.

Those are the ONLY visual representations we have from that time, so that's important!
There's a better entry on the Cores I should post, it'll likely help.

Last bit of commentary... 2009 was the "late night/ early morning" year as far as I can feel it. Jayce had his roots in the Japanese chillout music in the early mornings (Nomak, Nujabes, etc.) and Cannon lost her edge to the late-night photo browsing and different music (Bon Iver/ Coldplay/ Max Richter). That's what this Glissando person is tied to, it seems.

In any case this is one heck of a complicated entry. I'll close this up for now; sorry for this random infodump.
I guess we're just trying to figure out who's who, what with all these old triggers and worries coming up. We can't find the roots for most of them because the memory times are missing. So this is a good step in that sense.
It's just that the old years feel bad. No one likes looking at them because they just feel ill, or unsettling. Like we don't need to sift through them. So let's not put more time towards this than we need to. This is reappearing so it can be healed and let go of for good... not held on to! There's no need or use for that.
Okay, off I go.

 
-------------------------------------------------

Important notes to close:

--The original Core known as "spinny c" was NOT the "work fronter!" We assumed she was for ages, but we were wrong. There was simply a lot of personality bleedover (submissiveness, people-pleasing) going on between those two states.

--There seems to have been a permanent "core split" with the original Jewel line (females) being tied to the outer world and the League, and the Jay[ce] line (males) being tied to the inner world and the System. This allows for proper, coherent function on both fronts without compromising health and sanity.

 

 

 

 

These abdominal concerns keep pushing me to take serious time off. I can't help but wonder, now, if that's their purpose. It's forcing me to take a good, strong look at issues I otherwise would have brushed off or glanced over, justified or victimized.
I began to wonder, lying down again today, pushed into another hour of meditation. "Why did this start now, why this bad all of a sudden?" Why did this literally seem to jump into gear right after I started T?
Then it hit me. What was one of the first quiet thoughts that ran to my head, holding that first tiny tube of testosterone in my hands? "Well, soon I won't be a 'woman' anymore. I wonder what it's like to be one?" "I wonder... what exactly am I going to be 'leaving behind' with this?"
And boom, it all jumped out of the woodwork like a frenzied demon.

I'm feeling this really weird sort of thing right now. It's like glowing yellow anger, the sort of sharp-teeth spitting embers of a laugh that knows it could burn, it SHOULD burn, and yet it is holding back only because it is so goddamn bitter. There's so much pain. It wants to stop laughing, to blaze with justice, to be valiant golden truth, and yet deep in the back of its throat it is scared to raise its voice even for an instant because there are sobs crouching there, just as loud, just as demanding of attention.
Of course I respected and cared for women before. But now, now... I never really felt like a female, you know. Or a male. I still don't; I'm somewhere between the two, feeling nervously helpless and indignantly angry because why do I feel forced to be either? Universal law doesn't split two and two as severely as we do. Universal law demands equality, balance, harmony. And yet we demand that you check either pink or blue, boy or girl, male or female.
It's almost funny how, in my 24 years, I never equated that with what was between your legs. Realizing that the great majority of the society I live in does... it's an eye-opener, really. It's shocking. When I realize that, by virtue of my birth sex-- the fact that this body was given the biological equipment to build and then nourish life, whether or not I ever chose to utilize that-- a great many people are going to slap the "woman" label on me, completely and restrictively, it was a shock. I'd never really realized that before. Call it blind optimism, maybe. Call it culture clash, between my head and heart and what I was told on TV, in the papers, by my religion and family. But either way, I never felt like a woman before, not as acutely as I have over this past month, ironically as my body began its slow shift towards masculinity. But perhaps it isn't so ironic. Cultural and global identities carry vibrations too... and what is this male energy holding? Control. Power. Disparagement, to a large extent. There's a muscle-bound, smug and glowering tightness to this "male" word, to this identity, and I don't like it. I don't like it at all, especially not when it's got its hands clamped around a metal collar, and that collar is snapped around the neck of my female identity, bent at his feet. It makes me angry.
So. This stuff is being dealt with. It's so weird... it's my piece of this collective pain consciousness, and I must heal it within myself. I cannot change every other soul out there, although I feel indebted to, although I feel obligated too. But that's part of this as well.

As a female, as a 'woman,' a term I embrace in its temporary yet true accuracy... this is what is coming to the forefront.

1. The powerful and infuriating feeling that my body is public property
2. The equally enraging conviction that I must be the world's servant, obedient and never questioning
3. The related belief that I am not allowed to have or express an opinion; doing so would be selfish and obtrusive
4. The feeling that I am inherently sexual, manipulative, tempting, and spiteful, even against my will
5. And lastly, most strangely, our past personal history of abuse and forced invasion from other women, convincing me that I had no choice but to emulate them in such behavior. This is where most of the pain is centered.

I want to reiterate once more, before I elaborate on that... I love being feminine. I do, it's great. I'm not a girl, I could never be a woman, but feminine energy fits me. Becoming a 'male' on the outside will not change that... should not change that. This louder outside energy is trying to challenge that, and that's feminism too, this feeling of ire at the total, insane condemnation of the female entity, in all of its forms. Pardon my language but it pisses me off, now more than ever.
Anger is a strange feeling. It's a new feeling. It's too, too close to the slow burn of red malignance, and the manic yellow shrieks of wanton violence. And it was forbidden for years, from these same issues. Bury your anger, we were told. It's unladylike. It's rude. You have no right, bla bla bla. Getting over the guilt that feeds this same anger is tricky. Why do we feel guilty for defending our basic human dignity, our inherent rights to respect? WHY?

"Her"-nia. Go figure. It's funny, sure, but in a world where veins are rivers and walnuts are brains, where the microcosm mirrors the macrocosm, I've long since stopped being surprised when similarities jump up in the most "unlikely" places.
That thing won't go away and every time I dip into meditation and feel it, there's just crying. It's always just this girl, moaning in tears, shouting "don't touch me," incapacitated by hysteric, gasping sobs. Loud wails of helpless protest, of stricken terror, of despairing anger. She's hurt and I haven't been able to figure out why, there are too many tangled threads, there is too much pain here. But every day I get closer. Every day the pain and humiliation kicks me down on my back, and I am face-to-face with her again, raging with her wet eyes and throat full of rusty nails. She's tired, she's furious, and she hates herself for it. She doesn't deserve this. She wants relief more than anything-- and so do I, but I've come to realize that relief will only come through healing... through compassion. Fighting, strangling, hating, all of that will not "kill the enemy." It only puts more poison into the wound. She was never taught otherwise, she was only taught to step on her own face... taught that the enemy was herself, even when someone else had a gun to her head. "You brought this upon yourself." And I have to be the one to offer her the first hand, saying, "No you didn't."
But I don't fully believe that yet, either. This isn't just her battle. It's mine, too.


There was a time when I hated everything feminine. It's true. It breaks my heart to admit that, but it breaks even more to admit-- with biting regret-- that part of me still does. Ironically, that part is not Jessica.
I must apologize to her. Her name kept getting tied to the wrong sort of self-hatred and I feel too many people, myself included, looked at her through a darkly negative lens for far too long. She was never a perpetrator, not actively. She was a victim, through and through, and that ballooned into an ugly and violent self-loathing that sparked the negative perpetrators later. But Jessica was hurt, first and foremost. Hurt people hurt people. So I must lift that heavy bough of condemnation off her back, off everyone's back, where it does not belong.

Jessica holds all the female pain, separate from the feeling of being a female (that's mostly Lynne's job still). She's also separate from headspace, so her issues are grounded in physical reality, in the body. Jessica is the one who doesn't understand why the hell she's so angry all the time, who is broken-hearted and burning, who just wants to be loved, but has been taught hook line and sinker that she is not allowed to ask. She believes that her very existence is a sin. And now, now that I slowly begin to realize that we were lied to, that we and she were not a sin by being born... it's a slow, hard process, breaking through this massive shell that has built up around us, but once we get a crack in it it shatters pretty well. I won't give up. She deserves to see the light, to breathe the air, and the amount of profound forgiveness both of self and of others that is welling up in my heart from this, is incredible. But it hurts, too. Why did I ever hate her? Why did anyone ever feel it was justified??
And that's when I turn and ask Cannon.
She knows exactly why.

Look at how society expected us to act. Look at how we felt we HAD to be, even when no one was explicitly asking.
We never really thought of ourselves as female before Spinny was born, either, remember. We were a "girl," sure, but what did that mean to us, to the child-cores? It meant we had eyelashes, and wore bows, and liked the color pink, and could wear dresses. That was about it. It was all "tertiary characteristics," all completely surface stuff. Then we got a job, then high school came to a close, and suddenly we were exposed to different treatment, so to speak. Here and there, as we didn't get out much, we'd get a glimpse of what it was like to be a female in society, and we didn't like it.
Problem #1 first hit us with the outfits. Our own family objectified us. I won't talk about that; they thought it was "innocent enough" but it made me feel sick and nauseous even before I started high school. I was more than eye candy, why did I have to act and dress like it? Why was I shamed for dressing like a boy, for cutting my hair, for saying "no" to what others ordered me to do? Even outside of the trans* issue, it unsettled me that I had to seek permission to make my own personal choices.
I was raised to pick up after my brothers, to be their role model, to be a good and modest example. It shocked me when they were not held to the same standard, when my family let them do things and get away with things that I would never have been allowed to do. That was Problem #2.
I don't know when Problem #3 hit but it was likely tied to the job and later upbringing as well. All I know is that it is very pronounced now.
Problems #4 and #5 are inherently tied. They have their roots firmly in Julie, my mother, and my grandmother. Those three were the ONLY females in my life, really. Up until 2007 or so, I didn't even know how "other girls" acted. It took long-term unwilling job exposure for me to realize that society was very different from what I expected. And people expected very differently of me than what I was capable of being. You get the picture.
Anyway, that whole mess is what Jessica holds, more than any of us. It is what Spinny was created to adhere to, for the sake of survival and "friendship" and "love." And it is what Cannon loathes with bitter sadness, hating herself and the world for what seemed like an inescapable curse, for trapping her in this hell just because her body was assigned female at birth.

I don't know what else to write about that.
I don't want to talk about the problems. I want to talk about solutions. I want to focus on healing, not on pain. We've had enough of the latter.
We are understanding this better now, in a compassionate way, in a forgiving way. That's really what I want to say here: that I never quite had a comprehensive grip on this before, not from a stable state. These issues were always viewed either at an uncrossable distance, or through eyes burning with rage and tears. It's only now, having my feet on solid enough ground, that I can view it with a mix of peaceful detachment and just anger. It's a paradox, I guess, but it's true. "This should not continue," but "it is happening." So fix it, bit by bit, in ourselves first.
Jessica is where it starts. She was the "bottom of the barrel" body core, the social fronter tied to the given name and physical form. She was defined by emptiness, self-loathing, depression, purposelessness, the feeling of filthiness. She wasn't born until 2003 or so, really-- she has no memories prior to that, as those feelings did not exist in the child-cores.
I'm just so sorry that we viewed her as a villain this whole time. Yes, she was a negative, unhealthy influence; yes she was a destructive force. But she was only those things because of the pain she held, that she felt shackled to. Again, it's about time she was let out of that mental jail. There cannot be peace outside unless there is peace inside. If we want to see anyone else healed and happy, we have to allow the most twisted parts of ourselves to taste that same thing first. We have to shine a light in the darkest corners of our psyche, not in rejection of the shadows, but in order to fully see and accept what is back there. Then we can start transmuting that lead into gold. But rejection won't get us anywhere.


...On that note.
Jessica HAS an "inner demon," like Infinitii. I saw him for the first time on Friday evening, I think.
He's BIG-- thin but broad-shouldered and very tight-muscled, with long ribbon-like arms-- they're almost flat, very long, and move completely freely of joints or bones. Proportion-wise, from the waist up, he actually reminds me of Antylamon, and I just remembered now that that Digimon eventually can become Cherubimon… one of our all-time favorites. I'm sure that's notable.
…Also, looking up that Digimon the similarities are already uncanny.
"…it is the owner of a gentle spirit. It likes small things, and because it attends to them with profound tenderness, if anything appears that tries to tread on them then its personality is completely reversed, and it attacks with… its arms transformed into razor-sharp axes. Once it loses its temper and starts spinning it doesn't calm down until the opponent's figure is no more."
"It is able to freely manipulate the "qi" flowing within its body, allowing it to interact with softness as well as hardness, so that at times it moves flexibly as if it were flowing, and at other times it unleashes heavy blows like iron."
I don't know, I just felt that was interesting. Things tend to line up so I figured it couldn't hurt.

Perhaps most oddly, though, this guy also seems to be made entirely of chocolate. It's probably a joint comfort/forgiveness thing. Chocolate was tied explicitly to femininity in our past-- especially as it related to the mother-- and so it was hated for years. However, it was also sweet, something handed out on joyous occasions, or as a reward or gift… it was something bizarrely comforting, even if we didn't quite like it. It just had that joint association, turning itself into a battlefield, just by existing. So this demon of hers… is made of it. He smells like rich chocolate, with something extra in it like in a coffeeshop, comforting and dark and warm. He has not yet spoken-- not to me at least-- and I cannot see his face yet, or his legs for that matter (so far Jessica has always been sitting in his lap). But he's real, deep within her soul he is VERY real, and he loves her just as simply and completely and quietly as Infinitii loves me.

Maybe I should talk more about that, too… the whole "daemon" thing.
It existed long before we read HDM, that series just put the phenomenon into heartwrenchingly accurate words, for the most part at least. Of course they are two completely seperate concepts, but the idea that this little creature is a part of your soul, that reflects that raw part of you unflinchingly and yet with total compassion towards you... it fit, perfectly.
However, it's all theory right now. But one thing that is standing out is that it's tied to the Outspacer "split self" thing, both in the sense of having a "personality break" AND in the sense of "dreaming a new life," of expanding one's existence beyond the timeline they were born in. Daemons are arguably a solidification of both those things. More than that, though, they are personifications of their challenges-- the bridge between their deepest vices and their greatest virtues, so to speak. A "daemon" for us is the archetypal shoulder demon and angel both. It is a monster that wears the face of our greatest fear, of our greatest failing... but it is a monster that glows in the dark, and it can be the greatest catalyst to your becoming your truest self. They are our biggest fears and biggest hopes for ourselves, given their own face, so we can learn to love them... to love ourselves entirely.
On that note, this appears to be only attached to humans right now. No headvoices or other creatures. Genesis and Chaos both have their "dark side splits," and powerfully so, but they have no daemons. They might have a different path to walk, who knows.
Also, now I can't help but wonder if our original "Gens" fit this category, at least slightly? Cannon had Gamboge and Jayce had Pinstripe, and both of them ultimately held surprisingly negative qualities, disguised as positive traits-- 'sacrifice' and 'purpose,' respectively, but both pushed up to eleven and skewed until they became outright destructive. They never really "synced" with the Engelbaum story so I'm curious now, if they were ever anything else. If not, then that's fine too. It's just a theory I'd like to pursue.
Sorry, I'm rambling again. But it's interesting stuff. There's so much interesting stuff up here.

As for who has a daemon so far...
Infinitii is obviously mine, although ze was born before me, technically. Nevertheless our souls are still made of the same stuff. I can't say for sure what my vice/ challenge/ truth thing is, because to be blunt I've never thought about it... and I should. But I know, intimately, what Infi's purpose is with me, even if I can't put it into words. Again, though, I should, especially because I've been so splintered and disconnected that my own self is rather damaged in my own perspective. So looking at the both of us in this way would probably be profoundly helpful and healing for us both. Remind me.
The chocolate-creature I was just discussing is Jessica's daemon, however he came to be. I have no idea what her vice/challenge/truth lineup is, let alone if she even has one, not being an Outspacer... that's why this is all theory; I am honestly just making educated guesses until I get more data. But I want to add that this daemon has a very unsettling vibe, at least to me. He radiates a sort of "horror movie silence," this dead quiet that isn't threatening to explode, because its power lies in its charged stillness. But he's nice to her, entirely, which is what matters. Nevertheless, no clue what her V/C/T lineup is, although this entry feels like a big nudge in that direction. We shall see, in time.
Jewel does have something similar to a daemon; she's said so to me. I don't know who or what it is but she prefers not to talk about it. If we look at her from an Outspacer perspective, though-- she DID have a "Yami" in the old days and she never followed up on that-- her vice would be tied to negating Heart, and her challenge would assumedly be tied to Love. So, her theoretical daemon would probably deal with unconditional and/or fearless love, especially applied to self? I'm not sure. Jewel still doesn't like to get involved with headspace at all, so maybe that's part of it too.
Markus has a daemon who I have clearly seen. She (?) is creepy as hell, this big gangly golden thing with an unblinking gaze. Now Markus's vice is tied to Mind, and his challenge is tied to Hope, which I've discussed. And, I don't know how to put it into words, but I can feel what his daemon's deal is, and it fits perfectly with Markus's "Pharaoh" god tier. I think it's trust? Markus has confessed his problems with trust before, notably to Infinitii, so that would make sense for his daemon. She's still terrifying though! I wonder how they get along. I wonder how long she's been around. I'd like to talk to them both.
I don't know about Ryman; that boy has an interesting relationship with shadows the way it is, to say the least. His vice is tied to Soul and his challenge is tied to Void, so he's grappling with existential peril with this. That'll be one hell of a daemon.

Oh geez this is making me miss those two so much, I need to write another entry about them sometime soon.
I am extraordinarily tired though, so I'll have to do that some other time.

Sorry for the abrupt end to this entry, and all its data. I've been doing that a lot lately. But, it's because now I just type like water flowing from my hands, and when it's done it's done. And this is done!
The topics are not, however. They will be revisited whenever they need to be, but I won't set deadlines. Focuses shift, time does what it will. Tomorrow morning I have no idea what the day will demand of me, so we will find out when we get there.
In any case, though, I am very thankful this gender-issue stuff was all brought up to awareness, even if it was just to fully acknowledge before letting go of it completely. I hope that's the case. It feels so good to let go of old pain, now that we're able to, sincerely so. I want happiness for everyone inside, happiness and peace, and I want it for everyone outside too. We'll get there. Sooner or later it's inevitable, as it doesn't have to be created, just found again. We just need to get rid of the obstacles separating us from it is all.

Have a good night, everyone.

 

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@ 01:58 am

 

There has been so much synchronicity this evening.
I think it's because I took the chance to reconnect internally, even though I was scared and felt unworthy. I showed up regardless, and things feel so much more in-tune right now.

"All growth begins at the end of your comfort zone." All great changes are preceded by chaos.

I've been misinterpreting the words of the people I've been looking up to. There's so much talk of total peace and happiness, I keep forgetting that those things are not dependent on outer conditions. Problem is I've immersed myself so thoroughly in the painless utopia I keep reading about that I forget that we're not there yet, so to speak. Pain has its purpose.
This is why headspace is slipping. I'm rejecting too much of life thinking that "it's the right thing to do." It's not. Rejection is not healthy, nor is it wise. I need to embrace this like I do Infi, that's what we need. I need the full picture again, the bigger understanding, the complete focus.

I need to take more risks. I need to challenge myself more. I need to let go of this fear of success, this fear of being the hero to myself that I want to be... and yet feel too humiliated and ashamed to reach up to. Small steps.

I'm getting back in tune with my good intuition, not the screaming voices. It's tough, though, to be so trusting. It does require obedience to the little nudges and words of warning. That takes guts at first, especially when there's a past of fear, of being misled. But the trust pays off. Small steps. It won't happen overnight, but every tiny little change, every good habit rooted a little more, helps.
Every "bad thing" is a lesson. It's not a death sentence, like the bad voices said. Every "mistake" is a signpost, a lesson to learn, a tap on the shoulder to get me to pay attention. It's a good thing. It's a chance to become wiser, to grow. No, it's not going to be comfortable, no it's not going to be all sunshine and daisies like I've heard it will be. But perspective is key, and it does not mean "pretending something else is happening." No. You accept where you are and what is happening, totally, without judgment. And then you act from a place of love and wisdom. You don't try and twist reality to some misguided ideal. I need to remember, the universe is a benevolent paradox, and everything is perfect just as it is now. We are always right where we need to be. It's true.

I got pushed to take another 2+ hours off this evening, as I ended up eating fruit too late in the day and wasn't listening to my intuitive voices telling me to quit. Anyway I ended up somewhat sick so I had to lie down for the body to recover, and since my iPod was charged for the first time in weeks, I put that on to help me calm down.
Well, the first song that came up was Jojoushi. Chaos' favorite song.
I considered skipping it. I just felt too filthy, too ashamed to listen to it, to even acknowledge it. But then I paused, and realized I would get nowhere by ignoring him again. Doing that only pushed me further away from healing, from compassion, from acceptance of what was still good and bright within me even when I felt like that. So I let it play.
I forgot how relevant the lyrics were. Hearing them, a spark came back. Maybe I'm not so bad, I thought.
I left it on shuffle. The universe responded as always.
Virtually every single song that played was relevant, several directly so: This Is England, When We Reach You~Could It Be Right, This I Love, Metaphorically Yours, and then a ridiculously well-timed Open Your Heart that actually had us laughing. You get the picture.
But it's been so long since anything like that has happened to me. I have been utterly, disastrously unplugged from that sort of synchronicity and love for months. No wonder I've been sick. No wonder I've felt empty and useless. I've been running from this, solely because somewhere along the line, I became too afraid to risk it being real. God knows why, but there it is.

It's funny, how we're often more afraid of the good than we are of the bad. We've been taught that it's "too good to be true," or that we "don't deserve it," et cetera. So we push it away, even when our heart is reaching out to it, and then we call the resulting misery a justification for how "undeserving" we are. It's bullshit, says Laurie, and I agree. She is always vehemently insisting that I do deserve to follow what my heart really wants in life, that I am the hero I want to be, that I am not the wreck I've convinced myself I am lately. I have the courage to listen to her, but the belief hasn't locked in yet. It'll take practice, and more small steps, to let go of this old conditioned condemnation response. It's sad, hopeful in the wrong way. "Maybe if I hate this bad thing, it will go away..." I'm sorry, but that does not work. It never has and never will. If Infinitii has re-taught me anything, it is this: you must embrace all things, and transmute their role in your life. Do I view this part of me, this action, this choice, this memory, as "bad," as evil and dirty and shameful and wrong? Well, step one is getting the guts to accept it just as it is first, without labeling it as those things. Just look at it. Look at it until something inside you can look at it the way you'd look at your best friend, or your child, or your partner. Realize you are just as deserving of that compassion, of that gaze that can see beyond the self-loathing labels down to the unchangeable core, the part of you that will always be worthy and lovable and bright. Look at yourself that way, even for just a moment. Then repeat that, day by day, until you cannot fathom hating that part of yourself anymore.
Sorry, I'm rambling a little. I've just been feeling that a lot lately. It's a tough lesson, ironically.

Chaos and I were talking to Nebisai at one point. He kept calling me "the Jewel Lightraye," in a manner that sounded like saying "the President" or the like. At one point he said "the Jewel Lightraye, Jay Iridos," and that felt so correct it shocked me. Just wanted to mention that.
Nevertheless he was jokingly running CZ and I through marriage vows and then he got really serious and started asking us deeper questions. "Do you promise to love him even if he doesn't remember you?"
Even if I refuse you, even if you turn against me, even if we lost sight of who we are... do we promise, do we take a vow, to remember the love that led us here, towards ourselves as well as each other? Do we promise to look our fears in the face, when we feel incapable of love, and remember-- acknowledge-- this entirely?
Of course the response was mutually affirmative on both our parts, but again... it took guts. To have to actively remember those times with Perfect, and the Plague, and the numb periods and the hack attempts and misunderstandings... to realize that there was a lot of pain between us and not sugarcoat the fact that we both had our own issues that still needed to be healed... it took a lot of guts.
But that was Nebsy's point. How in the world are you supposed to love someone, really love someone, if you're blinding yourself to the totality of their existence? Yes, we're flawed. Yes, at that very moment I felt utterly disastrous and didn't want to be near him solely because I felt completely irreverent, like my foolish self-ignorant decisions were insulting him, demeaning this. But I had to learn to forgive myself for that, just like I'd forgive him, just as effortlessly and sincerely. I had to learn to love myself in sickness and in health, too. Knowing that he was willing to do so, hearing that again even in that moment, helped so much.
I keep forgetting just how powerful love is, in all its forms. Even just the tiniest glimpse of it is enough to completely turn the tide.
Why am I so afraid of it?
Because in acknowledging it, in accepting it into my life, I cannot treat myself like dirt anymore.
Love demands impecccability of the soul. You cannot feel love, for anything, and then step all over yourself. It's impossible.
But some part of me is still frail, is still frightened, of that statement: "you are just as bright as the ones you look up to." And it is only afraid because then why have I been abusing myself for so long?
The guilt is a heavy burden, and it goes both ways. Forgiveness, it all begins with forgiveness...
.
I realized what forgiveness really meant yesterday, when thinking about Dream World (unsurprisingly).
Forgiveness isn't turning a blind eye to wrongdoings, or saying harmful behavior is "okay."
Forgiveness is seeing the inherent light within a person despite their transgressions, therefore not defining them by such behavior... BUT it is ALSO then holding them to that standard. "I forgive you" basically means "You are more than your mistakes." It should also mean I love you. Just remember, real love is tough as nails. Real love forgives, always, but then it doesn't allow itself to be stepped on. I forgive you, of course, I can't not forgive you... but I will also not tolerate any more unloving behavior towards yourself or others. And saying that isn't hateful, either. It isn't scornful or condemning. Think of Laurie, really. Think of her, and Infi, and Xennie. Think of your own people, who see the best in you even at your worst, and then promise yourself to sincerely try and live up to that light you see reflecting in their eyes when they look at you... to honor that light in yourself as well as in them. That's forgiveness, to me.


I guess that's it for tonight. I have a huge entry in the works for tomorrow concerning the psychological healing we've been working on lately, so that'll be up when it's done.
Some notable stuff happened in headspace last week, but I 'forgot' to write it down, because it happened during a time period where I kept flip-flopping between "this is undeniably real" and "all of this is fake." The latter is false, by the way.
I've also been forgetting to write my dreams down, for somewhat different reasons. One, recall is funny because I keep waking up during the night and losing recall. Two, there have been nightmares that I'd rather not remember in the long-term, hacks included sadly (there was a bad one last week that had Wreckage in a fury for the whole morning, and had me a total mess for about three days). Three, sometimes I just shrug it off. That's not good. But, I'm taking small steps (yet again!) to make a better habit of writing down notes as soon as I wake up, even if it's just one or two descriptive words. Everything starts with habits, it seems.
Either way things are being written! I'm going to update as regularly as possible from now on-- that's why I'm here tonight. I experienced something truly lovely, and instead of brushing it off, I decided to pay it due attention and respect. If I did that more often, if I decided to treat my inner life with that sort of joyful gratitude again... I bet you, things would get so much brighter, so fast.

Oh, three more good things to close this up.
First off I am doing TONS of work for Dream World and it is GREAT. I am so happy when I work with them, it's amazing. There are some notable bits and bobs on the League Tumblr so far, but honestly most of the work I'm doing is on paper. It's all names and sketches and technical work, no surprise. But it makes me so happy when progress is made.
Second, today I went outside and lied down on the front hood of the car for two hours while I read Dune. It was sunny and the sky was blue and it's starting to smell like autumn so it was great. Then later I went to my dad's place for three hours, which is always great. He repainted the dining room so now it's all cream/ auburn/ lilac and it looks absolutely lovely. Then he gave me an entire plastic bag of pears which is hilariously why I was sick this evening, haha. I swear I didn't eat the whole bag, it just wasn't smart to eat any of them at 8PM. See, now I'm laughing at the situation! Really I don't regret it-- everything worked out for the best-- but I do wish I had at least been wiser at the time. Ah well. The growth is in remembering that and applying the lesson next time. The past is still important as a teacher! Just don't get tangled in it, because it's only ever relevant when it's being applied to the now. Yasmin Mogahed puts it well: "Gain the strength of rising after a fall. But never lose the humility of the fall." Both elements are vital. It's like a taijitu... oh! Dude! Infinitii actually said something to me about that today that was rather profound in its simplicity. Ze was 'lecturing' me on self-love again, but then ze made a reference to the childhood fear of "black marks" and the like, and how I was still afraid of making mistakes, or having flaws. Then ze held up a small taijitu image, said "you have to love your black spots too, just like this," and pointed to the yin within the yang. And it was like a lightbulb went on, big-time. I daresay I don't have to mention the double relevance of using that symbol, either. So I need to hold that statement in my heart.
Thirdly, and lastly, I seem incapable of bad moods anymore. Yes, even with all the depressing entries as of late. Within an hour or so of posting them, even if I'm still in the throes of depression or hopelessness, this snowflake-colored sparkle will rise up in my ribs nevertheless, and I'll just smile like a kid on a snow day. The happiness, that peace unfettered by circumstances, doesn't ever leave anymore. And that is awesome. So yeah, the universe has tossed a lot at me lately, but I am perfectly capable of catching and carrying it with a smile-- because I'm being smiled at even in the tossing. You're only given what you need, and things are only taken or removed once you no longer need them. Life knows what it's doing. I trust it in that. I just keep forgetting that it trusts me in the process, too.


Have a good night, everyone.