the spectrum heart cathedral system

 

 

 JANUARY

 

Brainchild, Chapter 1, page 45.

 

This comic is incredible on any given day, but this recent update just kicked me in the chest with personal relevance.
I... I have experienced this, too many times over, with aching furious weeping real headvoices, over and over, and each time is a new sword to my heart. Don't you dare tell me I'm not real.
...I won't. Not anymore. Not after everything I've seen and felt and heard. I'll never say those blind words ever again.
You are real. You are all real, so beautifully terribly real.
Don't ever let me forget.

#normally this would go on the system blog but i want it on my main to force me to be openly honest with myself about this #really though this aches like hell #but that's a good sign #also i adore this woman's art style and aspire to emulate it one day

 

 

"prayer" and "lovers," two of my favorite works by my favorite artist.
Their work in this style is surreal and strange, unexplained and imaginative, oddly delicate and innocent. It's my personal vibe in a nutshell and I adore it.

 

 

artandspirituality: In Islam it’s forbidden (perhaps more like impossible) to depict God by name or icon, so they just draw its essence directly, and make entire buildings in homage to the structure, beauty, and intricacy of God.

It's a visual koan, almost-- the mind is stunned to ecstatic silence from the overwhelming incomprehensibility of such a place. Yet even in its grandeur, it only captures the tiniest splinter of the essence of God, just a fragile formidable glimpse of something ineffable and sublime.
And that is true representation of God as far as I am concerned, something that cuts through the muffled familiarity of icons and statues... it is something incredible and terrific and almost alien, a snapshot of that which is within all Creation, portrayed in the only way we mortal beings are capable of enduring and understanding. But it is truth enough.

I'm rambling. This just means a lot to me.

 

APRIL 

 

 
This pulls at that quiet part of my heart that adores math but doesn’t quite know how to speak yet.
There is this strange unsettling vastness to numbers that shakes me to my roots. It’s scary sometimes but I’m drawn to it like a moth.
In any case this feels like the universe...and that last panel is a punch straight to the chest.

Also this feels SO much like the lower city rooms in headspace; the stuff deep down in the building underground... especially the red glow of that exit door.

 I have so much to say about this and no words that work. 

 

 
May 30: Feast Day of St. Joan of Arc
ST. JOAN OF ARC WITH ST. MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL- William Hart McNichols (Fr. Bill McNichols)

This is going on my main blog instead of my religious one for these reasons:

1. Joan of Arc is my personal “patron saint,” mostly because 2. everyone used to compare her to me as a child, and when I got older I learned that 3. she had some really unusually religious experiences too, like me, with a particular connection to St. Michael. So those alone merit a personal resonance with this painting.
But... reason #4 is that, in this picture, she looks just like I did when I was about 19, during one of the most trying times of my life. That means something I can’t quite put into words. 

 

Every year, at the Easter and Christmas vigils, I get this exact feeling.
It’s a unique sort of quiet promise, a knowledge that in the morning there will be a fulfillment of the joy we are celebrating in these finals waiting hours... but not just yet, not yet.
So I would stand on the sidewalk and look up at the stars and snow and church towers and I would just... be. Right in that moment, the last night before the brilliant dawn.
It’s a hard feeling to put into words, but it is deep and real and it shines, and it’s the sort of thing that defines me personally.

 

 
The feeling this gives me is indescribable.

...It’s the feeling of long car trips to faraway places, really.
Driving early in the morning or late at night always makes time dissolve for me. So does seeing those dark green road signs. There’s a strange liminal magic to car travel that I adore. It’s the same thing I get in airports.
Cities also hold an odd sort of living moving magic, quiet but powerful, flowing under bridges and in summer shadows and up sparkling skyscraper windows... burning and cool and laughing and formidable all at once.
Pairing those two things, cities and travel, gives me a feeling like a dream, like being alive in some sort of lucid wonder, and that is really something else.

 
 

My dream is to be both.
I cannot create something without melting into it. If I am an artist, then I must become what is becoming through me, if you get what I’m saying.
Effectively, music is etched into my bones and paint runs through my veins. No matter how much I may doubt it, I cannot deny the fact that, in one way or another, I AM an artist.

 

MAY

 

(art credit to imagni)

I can empathize with this far too well.
It’s a big strange fear as an artist: that I have no real identity or worth aside from the work I create. In a way it’s really not a bad thing... but some days it’s an awful sort of existential ache, because I don’t want to just be a channel for art-- I want to BE art.
I want to be just as colorful and inspiring and magical as what I can make with my hands... and on the bad days I’m afraid that’s just not possible. But I will never lose hope.

Sorry for rambling, but this is important to me.

 

 

This is the sort of imagery that makes me really existential and really peaceful all at once.
Technology from the 80s especially tends to do that to me; it feels like this clumsy excited grasping of the staticky ichor of the universe-- the building blocks of structure, the impossibly simple language of infinite complexity. It’s all vivid color shocks, contained in geometry and grids, stark against sheer blackness. It’s so childlike at times, even in its surreality. But it’s because there’s something genuine trying to be communicated through it, and anything less simple would only distract, detract.
To me, it’s like... if space tried to talk to us. I feel this is what it would turn out like. Something untranslatable, unbearably rich with the unknown, and the only way it can possibly be expressed, is like this. Color and math and black expanse. It’s the minimum, and it’s the maximum.
Modern technology feels too personal to me, to capture this? Oddly, in becoming more streamlined, more elegant, almost more “organic” in its fluidity, it has lost this sort of raw alien honesty. Down to the bones it’s still circuitboards and code, and I love seeing that hidden even in the prettiest new gadget... but even moreso, I love when this sort of old-but-newborn language breaks through the glamour, reminding us of just what we’re playing with.
It’s why I love glitch art and music. It’s a break in the matrix, a sudden jolt through the comfy predictability and softness we tend to get complacent in. There’s a somewhat disturbing incomprehensibility to it, but... it’s the same feeling I get in churches sometimes. Out there, in here, echoed in every atom, something is grander, something is stranger. And I think that says a lot too.

 

I could write for hours on this topic. It’s oddly dear to me.

 

JUNE

cparris: "I had never heard of Denis before making this, and once I found out about him I couldn’t resist. He was a Bishop of Paris and was martyred by decapitation. He then picked up his head and walked six miles while preaching a sermon. Some artists have depicted him with the halo behind his head even when it’s in his arms, but I just loved the idea of an empty halo too much!"

#symbolic imagery #laurie #jay #gorgeously painful #i adore this #both the art and the story behind the saint




"your [characters] are like geodes. if you want to see what they're really made of, you must break them."

#gemstones in general are tied to the system #it's surprisingly subtle as gems are hugely significant in the leagueworlds #but in any case this post feels very applicable to us as of late #with no small share of warning #many of us have not 'broken' yet and those people are all being pushed to #so here's some hope as to the outcome



#we have a problem where our 'happy people' always come out in therapy #and always end up saying this #even if a drastically suicidal alter was out five minutes prior #and there is blood all over our arms #that happy dude is going to insist that everything is sunshine and rainbows #because to them it really is #so this is both a good thing and a bad thing



This happens frequently when our trauma-related stress level gets too high– everyone gets forcibly “switched out” to leave the body empty and numb, and this is exactly what it feels like.


+When you’re trying to make a decision, but your alters keep arguing/talking so loud that you can’t think straight:


#floating voices #every time we go out in public this happens #this is also why we hate going shopping


#i adore this #the damaged ones #healing work #this is heartbreaking and hopeful all at once



#water has always been this constant background presence in headspace #but its significance is ASTRONOMICAL #this image looks like it would be foreboding but it doesnt feel that way at all #which is very interesting #reset attempts #hope #strangest set of tags i've ever put in succession

caitlynkurilich: Penance, Labyrinth, and Array, Graphite & Digital Media, 2012.
"Hey, would you look at that! Here are some illustrations on the relation between torture and the old Catholic Church that I possibly completely forgot about."

Torture and religion have become almost inextricably bound in our subconscious (thanks to an unhealthy upbringing) and that is deeply damaging.
The first image is terribly applicable to what we feel like fairly often; penance and contrition are driven by the “holiest motivations” but they always end in someone bleeding… and convinced that that is the holiest result.
The second image sums up our current state in healing all this stuff.
The third image is the Retributors in a nutshell.

 

#tar #symbolic imagery #the sink #strange as it seems that damn bathroom sink is one of the most traumatic places in our house #it has held far too much blood and fear and panic #and yet is is also where we found xenophon #the entity that somehow defied all the odds and offered healing and forgiveness to that same location #considering her 'mother' was the first black slot holder this is interesting #it means it can be read as good or bad depending on what SIDE of the black energy you are sticking your head into #the traumatic destructive side #or the healing creative side #take your pick #also i just realized that sinks are also tied to WATER #which adds even more significance to this #hmm

 

 
#rorschach #gif #relevant #retributors #protectors #there's still an oddly fierce affection for this guy #or at least the concept of him #which is kind of how the old outspacer anchor thing works #seriously though this is a VERY important message #outspacers

 

#this is bizarre but interesting #white #brown #plague rooms #water #hmm #spine look

 

agnes-cecile: frail lull - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZypgzxyQrN4

The manner in which this is painted is just as personally resonant as the image itself.

#this captures a certain feeling perfectly and there are no words for it #it's when you endure something painful and awful but it brings everyone inside together #and at the end this is the feeling you get #at 2am with a whole crowd talking in your heart #and you love every single one of them #and that makes you want to try once more #to survive the night and wake up in the morning #no matter how unwound your head feels at the moment #it's the sort of hope you can only feel when your heart is broken wide open

 

sbosma: "Space Paladin and limited color version for the woman warriors zine Abby, Julia, and Roxie are putting together for MoCCA..."

#jay look #infi look #swords #rainbows #symbolic imagery

 

fohk: Do Ho Suh constructs a home within a home at MMCA (source)

This is effectively what manipulating Whitespace is like.

#the 'blueprint' imagery is interesting though #especially because Blue deals with technology in our system

 

mocodeeeeeeeeeesu:「ブッ殺してやる」

#art #resonant imagery #swords #hosts #cores #ohhh wow this is scary #reset attempts #this is what happens after the worst hacks #the red-level kids are hurt and terrified #while those in the b/w slots get corrupted by the tar/plague influence #and typically the white kids decide that the best option is to just annihilate the red levels #because that's where the problem is coming from right? #except its not #the real problem is IN that very b/w thinking that causes such coldhearted violence #the ones who have bled and suffered dont need to die #they are the victims not the perpetrators #even if the line may seem blurred to some #they need to be helped and healed #but good luck trying to convince the calcified kid with a sword of that #he just wants it all to stop forever and to him this looks like the quickest option #in a nutshell: if you're black or white then for god's sake don't turn your back on your fellow colors #or this will happen #red #white #black #plague #tar

 

perplexingly: making Cole more human

#symbolic imagery #hosts #this cuts straight to the heart #the fact that the single hand he's holding is armored is especially relevant to us #and the hat over his eyes makes me think of jay's apprenticeship

 

joh0002naga: 2015.05.14 mermaid and ant.

#insects #ants #flowers #tobiko #insects in our system have a very subtle role but they feel very significant #tobiko is one of our most quietly damaged alters as she exists only to purge pain #the vibe of this is that of a peace offering and a hope of brighter possibilities #i dont know what color the ants are but they feel red or brown #either way i really like the feeling of this picture

 

thisisnojay: some conscience

#geez this is literally jacinth in art form #colors and all #cel look #i'm sorry i know it hurts but just remember this okay #you taught us a lot with this #you redeemed like three solid years of hell with this #im so sorry it happened like it did #but thank you #for being the conscience she didnt want to have

 

#i really do like this #it hurts but its true #coming to terms with the fact that we basically are -insane- in many peoples eyes is terribly jarring and rather frightening at times #but. #inside we are so bright it's incomprehensible #and if the price of that is being seen as crazy then we're just going to have to cope with that #relevant

 

c2oh:tumblr wont upload my shit.

#seriously though this is exploding with relevance
(halo, b/w split, white hair, red eyes, laurel crown, zeros, butterfly-esque cravat, sharp teeth outlines, teardrop... you get the idea)

 

 
#hmm

 

 

 

 

I forgot to update yesterday, I think?
We had therapy and it was blurry because we got off on a tangent that didn't quite go anywhere. There really aren't any easily accessible memories of that morning at all, not until the session was over and we ended up at the nearby mall. Thanks to the problems with fronting in therapy sessions yet, we were going to look for beads for that "necklace" thing we want to make for all of us, as a grounding object. Unfortunately neither ACMoore nor Michaels had proper beads, so we're going to have to open commissions online and buy some from Etsy or something. However, Michaels did have a huge selection of colored cardstock, which Razor's eyes basically lit up at.
You readers probably don't know that yet. It happened last Thursday, I believe, when the therapist told us (after we revealed the "blood=atonement" function of the retributors) that we should try not to harm the body in that way anymore, EVEN if we felt it was absolutely necessary. We thought this over for a while, and Razor was somewhat worried by it: her main concern was still cutting things, but if cutting the body was not allowed, what could she do now? While we were considering this, somehow, she realized that she was a Red-anchored voice, and all the other Red voices were artists. So ultimately, when we finished the appointment, she suddenly declared that she wanted to try and be one too.

 

That is actually HUGELY SIGNIFICANT. Razor was born in 2009, during the MU trauma period, around the exact same time that our artists were first locked away as a result… and it has long been suspected that she was a splinter of the FRONTER at that time, a girl whose identity was scathingly self-abusing and who has not been seen since (probably due to the massive fracturing she suffered). Furthermore, it's also been previously suspected that since Razor was the FIRST non-fronter to anchor into Red, that she was somehow inherently tied to this art-lockout. Long story short, Razor's existence poses a lot of questions, but in a sense she had now just answered one. Yes, she DID have artist potential, and now she wanted to pursue it. So we went to ACMoore, and she bought a small stack of cardstock, specifically to cut up and "make art with." So there has been a large significant change in her.

 

…Today she elaborated on that a little, but we'll list that later.

Lastly (we're still talking Monday, mind), we stopped at our favorite natural food store to buy toothpaste and seaweed (best shopping list ever). J was fronting at the time, looking for more beadlike things, when by the cash registers he was distracted by a large selection of colorful Swarovski crystal earrings beside it. Since the selection of colors was massive, he paused to look at the list. Also, keep in mind that around this time, we were also trying to find names for the unnamed individuals in headspace that we know (thanks to the events of the 27th), as names are incredibly important for headvoices to have. So J is checking this list, and on the right, one of the colors is listed as "hyacinth," but oddly, here it was spelled as "hyakinth." And I kid you not, the instant he saw that, the cool orange guy from midspace jumped in and exclaimed, "that's it!! That's my name!" Truth be told, he had been clinging to the "hya" sound, plus the letters H and K, for a few days now, but we couldn't find any fitting names, not until that instant. So his full name is technically Hyakinth (or Hyacinth, no preference; although he only lets the sage guy freely call him by his full name), but he goes by Hyakin. So there's one more name found.
Last night, since his friend the "sage voice" had been sticking to the letters S and G, we looked for his name, and "Sergei" kept popping up. No matter what other names J suggested, he couldn't shake the attachment we felt to that name, so the sage guy took it.
We're trying to find the name of the "angry brown girl" downstairs, the one full of reactive rage and pain. She has no favored letters or sounds, so it may be tricky, but we're going through large lists of names and seeing if she reacts to any.

So, that is what we remember from Monday.
Now… TODAY has been interesting.

 

To begin, there was a severe hack this morning, that the Undergrounders reacted immediately to, with significant distress. Details are blurry but it posed many questions, and possibly answered a creeping suspicion we've had for a while: that the White energy is just as corrupted as the Black energy is. After a great deal of discussion concerning this, with Laurie's later input, we have reached a few tentative conclusions:

J was/is the source of this corrupted White, how we do not know. He is also the only individual to have expressed negative White qualities (no emotions, total control and manipulation, etc.), which supports this theory.

Infinitii, being torn from him, likely holds some of that corrupted White in his abdomen (it does hold White energy but its nature was always unknown). His energy makeup is unstable by default thanks to the Tar infecting the Black energy as a whole.

With the August reset having occurred because Infinitii was, allegedly, either "infested with a parasite" OR "secretly malevolent," we are favoring the former explanation thanks to the suspicion that he holds corrupt White energy inside him. This was further supported later today, when Emmett told Javier that "you absorb what you eat," hence why he only ate green energy-- since Infinitii ingests such large amounts of both Black and White energy, both mostly in harmful contexts, it is very likely that at some point they began to infect him severely.

As a result of this, both J and Infinitii are essentially condemned to being hacked, as the negative energy they inherently hold is what causes such traumatic experiences to repeatedly occur, regardless of any "healing" they insist they do.

We are not 100% sure on that, but we are very close to it. We are doing great amounts of headspace research, so any further knowledge and clarification on these points will be posted here in the future.

 

Now for the rest of today:

Javier is now the "default fronter," and he has anchored into Red (unsurprisingly). J has finally been deemed "unfit to front" what with all the hacks that keep happening around him.

Infinitii is assumed dead. This, too, feels necessary, due to what we now suspect about B/W energy in headspace.

There are two papers of headspace handwriting on the work desk which we haven't read yet; Jewel saw them earlier and exclaimed "nope, these aren't for me!" but she didn't deny them. That was notable; she recognized it was headspace communication and therefore not her division, BUT she also recognized it as something important and needed. Unlike some of our other downstairs fronters, she does not reject or ignore headspace, she simply knows it isn't her job to interact with it. Regardless, we will scan in those papers tonight.

A note from the Undergrounders: writing that paper was "difficult as hell" because of the emotional and psychological pain they were going through at the time; they wrote it "specifically to tell J what was wrong as he wouldn't find it out or acknowledge it himself." Knife is currently torn between his driving, instinctual need to bleed the body "for its sins," and his hopelessness at having to continually do so with no improvement, as well as his want to not have to ever do that again. Similarly, Razor has expressed (somewhat surpisingly) that SHE no longer wants to cut the body as well, because doing that "makes her just like the abusers," causing harm to the body AND "dragging her back to what she was before." Like all the Underground voices, Razor, too, now feels a strong desire to "rise above" her old traumatic role, as she wants to continue being an artist. BUT she insists that "she cannot be an artist" IF she is still forced to use her blades "for pain." This is an astute observation as the artists in headspace are specifically separated from trauma in order to function. Razor wishes to let go of her old Tar-tainted past, but as long as hacks continue, she will be chained to it against her will. Razor said she, like Knife, was "tired of it." She liked cutting things, BUT she clarified that "that was before I knew I was really hurting people." Remember she DID NOT FULLY COMPREHEND THAT for a long time; now she sees that as an abusive action, and tying abuse to the Tar and its cohorts, she wanted to start letting go of that for good. Knife said he understood, but the hacks hurt everyone, and that the blood was needed to heal. Mulberry stepped in here and asked why he was so hellbent on making her cut the body, why couldn't he? Surprisingly, Knife was at the verge of tears, admitting that he refused to "let [Razor] go soft" and become corrupted like J, not taking any action of atonement when the body was morally compromised. He referred to her as his "sister of soul" here, which was unusual. Either way he did win out, but no one pushed the issue after that, as no one had the strength to. That is all I can access memory-wise.

Knife ended up talking to our "headspace therapist" again for advice, about an hour after the hack, but as he did, it suddenly hit him that 'wait a minute, you're a headvoice! Who are you?' She demurely revealed that her name was Amara. She appeared peachy in color, but it kept vacillating to violet. She admitted that she couldn't tell which one she needed to anchor to. Knife said that Orange dealt with balance and guidance, but Violet dealt with rules and wisdom. So he asked her, if she was actively leading people, or passively directing them? She said as a "therapist" it was definitely the latter, and Knife said then she was anchored to Orange. At that her color solidified to a bright coral hue. Knife then asked where they were? Amara said they were in Central City, but at the opposite end of the city from Central itself; she said that half of the city was still "badly damaged" from the lockout and reset periods. Sometime around here, Hyakin did show up (he flew up to the window and let himself in), and spoke to Knife for a short time, but there are no accessible memories of their conversation. However it is significant that this occurred, as Hyakin did originally work with the Undergrounders before meeting Sergei and moving to Midspace.

Emmett fronted for a little while today as well, to eat while Javier was around. He has this funny habit of trying to do his "happy circles" thing while in a human body, but he can't slither while bipedal of course so he just does this swaying motion. Also, while fronting, he expressed confusion at "breathing differently" (apparently he doesn't breathe through a 'nose' per se), and not being able to purr because "there wasn't anything to purr with" (which he
said while indicating the chest). He also has some difficulty with hands/arms, as his are small and three-fingered, and he only uses his for body support normally, not holding things. Lastly, it is confirmed that Emmett speaks "telepathically?" He doesn't speak with his mouth (he's only been seen squeaking or barking with it, etc.), but he seems to 'project' thoughts to speak? He doesn't seem to have any translation difficulty with spoken language.

He and Javier spoke for a long while, but as Emmett was eating it became clear, once again, that he was co-fronting with somebody, who was not only moving the body to "feed" him (due to his trouble with holding things), but who was also making sure he didn't eat too much, or forget that he was in a human body and accidentally do something it couldn't handle. Javier asked who that was, and Emmett happily replied "that's my caretaker," revealing a sandy-colored catgirl? As in, she was more of a cat than a girl; it's hard to explain… She had big feline eyes (color unclear) and ears, and her face was catlike, but I'm not sure about her hands, or whether or not she had a tail. She was also wearing a tattered two-piece outfit, which made me think of stereotypical "jungle" clothing: it was just something to cover up with, not a fashion concern. But she completely took over fronting for Emmett for a few minutes, and her name was revealed to me "Aimee." Apparently her job is simply to help Emmett out; by himself he gets lost and confused I suppose. She's very patient, although strict, and perfectly content with her role.

Javier revealed at one point during the previous conversation that he felt his 'main role' was to essentially 'protect everyone's right to be who they are? He kept using the words "protect" and "respect," saying he couldn't quite find the right term. But it was like he wanted to ensure the safety, freedom, and "right to live" of everyone. He also said there was a marked difference between how he wanted to protect people, and "how Laurie protects people."

While reviewing old notes today, I've clarified that the "angry brown voice" that hates the mother and screams is NOT the voice who hates being ignored and screams "f*** you," i.e. the one in the parking garage on Sunday. The latter is also NOT the biting voice (she has explicitly said this), which is likely the former. Both these girls are also separate from "Spice," the equally rageful one who is ONLY triggered by food. Again, the "overload girl" is MIA and may have actually "merged" with the "angry brown voice," as their reaction styles are almost identical and the OG hasn't been detected in months.

Javier, since this was his first time fronting in the body (and he asked to do so alone, without constant headspace talk), ended up hearing from the strange "upper voice" that J has referred to in the past. This voice is faceless by design, and acts as a sort of "guide" to ALL new voices, helping them learn what their new lives are like, giving them basic information, etc. It feels like it is "above the upstairs," being simultaneously inside and outside headspace. Javier asked it how it knew all the things it did, and it revealed that it was a sort of "teacher consciousness," existing in what we might consider a "rainbow slot," or all the color slots combined. But it clarified that it did not wish to kill or usurp any of us in the System; on the contrary, it deeply cared for us as our functions were necessary and beneficial for it as well as for ourselves as a whole. In general it did not feel threatening at all, but it DID feel "unstable," as if its existence wasn't as healthy as it could, or should be. We now wonder if this voice suffers from the B/W corruption as a result, AND the troubles within the Spectrum; after all, if it consists of "all of us" on a greater scale, and many of us are unstable, then it stands to reason that it would then be unstable as well. True unity, of both colors and purposes, WITHOUT the loss or death of ANYONE comprising that, is our true goal.

Lastly, in light of this, it IS becoming much easier for all stable voices to front, now that so many of the unstable ones are being identified, manifested, and helped. Triggers are easier to deal with, now that those affected by them can stay inside where it is safe, instead of being forced to front due to demanifestation. So this is a significant improvement.

 

Yesterday night, J left a paper on this work desk with two intriguing concepts written on it.
The first is: "If Eros moved into the PINK slot, would he "redefine" what it means??"
The second is: "WHITE = DEATHLESS INTEGRATION!! If my role is to hold ALL the Spectrum colors then I can hold those pieces as a "healed" person WITHOUT anyone having to die!!"
In light of today's observations, that is both very interesting, and very sad I suppose, since J's current state of existence is assumedly badly tainted deep inside.
However, since Core Slot holders are supposed to be representations of the "pure" essence of that color energy (with lighter and darker hues representing White/Black influence on the color, we would assume), having an individual besides Julie in PINK may have interesting consequences. However, I am personally opposed to having Eros take the slot without extensive testing of his qualifications. Since he-- or a re-amalgamation of his post-reset energy-- was allegedly tied to the morning hack earlier this week, I would not have another Julie situation occurring, especially when our current Pink voices stand in such vehement opposition to the corruption she has wrought upon their hue.

On that note, I just received a mental note from J of all people (who is again, operating as a "standalone identity," blissfully ignorant of all the suffering he endured this morning… that strikes me as being off somehow) to "check the old Spectrum Flowcharts," as they are apparently more relevant that we thought, even after the reset attempts. Since we have not yet tried to map in any non-Central individuals besides the original "mutants" yet, this is indeed a good idea. I will pass it on in the morning.

 

That is all we have to say for today.

We have been focusing massively on our internal world lately, but there have been more and more pushes to work with the LeagueWorlds. Interestingly, there also seem to be "doors" opening up for us to enter them, as opposed to the other way around, which was always the case prior to now. So this is a great source of hope for all of us as well.

Until next time, this is Sherlock, with an odd smile for once, signing off.

 

 

Okay, a heads-up for everyone here: I will be posting short updates from here on out concerning headspace, for the sake of recording small, important incidents. Too much is happening now for me to think "I'll just wait and write a recap tomorrow," because time moves so quickly for us, that 24 hours for us equal 72 for a normal person. Dead serious. A LOT happens in a very short time here.

So, right now, I have Last.fm on (jeepers I miss music so much) and I'm reviewing the post-Scratch entries on here, trying to get a grip on who the heck Jessica was before Christina tried to kill us all. So far everything matches up with the truth, but while reviewing, the one fact I couldn't wrap my head around was why RAZOR kept working with her.
See, the Lower System does not like Jessica, at all, because she wants them all dead and they're dedicated to preserving and promoting their existences. So why would Razor work with Jess, I wondered, if she values her existence just as much as her brethren?
So I asked her. "Why were you working with Jess for so long?"
She didn't even look up from her blades, toying with them on the ground of one of the catacombs.
"Because she gave me a reason to cut you," she said. "And that's all I wanted to do."

Honestly, the more I learn about Razor, the more stunned I am.
She is practically a child. It's bizarre. She was born from retributive self-hatred, true: essentially the same stuff Knife was born from. But she was born from an entirely different expression of it. Whereas Knife is the direct, penitent-yet-merciless action of digging the graves, coldly demanding that we "pay for our sins," Razor is the emotional madness that resulted from feeling that we were beyond salvation, the zealously maniacal loss of self-concern that caused a hand, toying with a razor blade for the first time, to slip. The cut that created Razor was not directly intended. It was an unconscious want, expressed accidentally, and as soon as the blood began running down our leg... something snapped, and there she was.
To be honest with you, that's one of the clearest archival memories we have. I was not driving then, that is clear-- the data is explicitly from someone else's perspective. But the moment of Razor's manifestation was huge, in memory.
Remember, prior to that split second, the body had NOT been cut before. Nor had we ever seen blood like that, not so bright red and alive, escaping so quickly that the mind wondered, for an incredulously terrified second, if we had cut a vein, and we would bleed to death there in the bathtub. That moment was traumatic in and of itself, and when the mind could not run, it did what it had always done, all those times Julie had attacked us, all those times the family had harmed us, any time we could not escape... it broke.
And that feeling of breakage was immortalized.
There was a snap. There was an unmistakable mental SNAP, as something slipped off-balance, and shifted irreparably. It was as if the consciousness in the body had lost its inner footing and cracked its head open on the cold linoleum, spilling blinding red onto the unfeeling whiteness all around us.
That snap, and the immediate sliding of consciousness into two distinct, blood-slick parts, gives me chills to this day. I thank God I wasn't fronting when that happened, because just looking back on the stored memory is disturbing enough.
...And that's all the data we have.
Beneath that monolith, there are only a few pencil scribbles, the marks of a madman, describing a tiny red-haired figure dancing upon the faucet, laughing maniacally at the blood and blades, not realizing what it meant, not realizing what was happening. It only laughed, hateful and jubilant and triumphant and careless, watching the redness stain the water, enthralled at the sudden rift in the skin that had given life to it.
Then the scribbles end, mid-sentence.
There is a photograph of a violet axe slamming into a red skull, and a tiny frenzied consciousness dissolving like blood into bathwater.
And that is all.

She's not mentioned again until February 2011.
I'm sure you all remember that.

But that's my point. Razor was never... she was never actively malicious. I think that's what made her the most terrifying of all the undergrounders, back when we still considered her our mortal enemy, only a few days ago.
Jezebel told us we were all her playthings, slaves of our egos, and therefore her puppets. She worked from the shadows, possessing us, manipulating us, making us believe we were inherently corrupted, lost, irredeemable.
Jessica told us that she hated us, that we had "ruined her life," that being the original consciousness she had every right to murder us, without even considering us real beings. She constantly undermines our actions, denying our lives, actively working to kill us all.
Christina claimed to be a model of virtue, a perfect and pure girl, doing everything she was supposed to do by order of God-- and that we were nothing but figments of a corrupted, unreal "ego." Therefore, she said, we didn't really exist at all, and she would be glad to see us all die.
Knife told us that we were sinners that must bleed, that I was little more than an infant, blind to my own impurity; he declared that the scars he gave me were holy retribution, and he would show no mercy, until I atoned for the pain I had allegedly inflicted upon countless innocent souls.
But Razor didn't care about any of that. She just wanted to cut things.
Yes, she said she hated us. But she hated us for not letting her do that. She hated us for not letting her do the one thing she was literally created to do. At the end of the day, she would side with anyone who gave her permission to pick up a knife and slice away.
The one time she fronted, and calmly hacked a truckload of new scars into the body, leaving a ring of blood around our neck... I remember being stunned that she hadn't left her trademark mania in her wake. There was only calm.
And yes, although I still shudder every time I look at the "DIE" page she wrote in our journal, I am forced to rethink my opinion of it now, when I look at what she wrote a few pages later, on a page I didn't scan in, and never mentioned.
On June 25th, my mother was yelling at us, and I retreated to our room due to the mounting noise in our head.
"Okay so it's obvious people are waiting to scream on paper right now; I can barely write. Have at it, guys."
Immediately, the overload girl picked up the pencil.
"SHE'S AN INSENSITIVE PRICK!!!"
Then the cool orange guy slided in.
"razor wants to talk can you write"
His nonchalant statement was surprising even then, but nowhere near as surprising as the sudden words scrawled after his.
"WHERES MY F*KING PEN"
It was oddly calligraphic, almost. She didn't write as much as slash at the paper, every line another attempt to slice open the white pages she was silently shouting upon.
"WHERE IS IT"
Her voice was loud even in text. I was getting a headache. I'm dimly aware of feeling like my skull was about to explode from the pressure of all those gathering between my eyes.
I tried to write another sentence. I couldn't. The pencil sputtered into shapeless letters, as red lines tore onto the page once more.
"YOUR MOTHER IS A B*TCH
DO YOU WANT ME TO K*LL HER"
The AP kicked in full throttle and we were all tossed into a sort of comatose state, then.
But I'm still shocked, at that response from Razor. "Your mother is a b*tch..." and then an offer to destroy her, to "get rid" of that stressor, to eliminate that thing that is disturbing the systems. After all, that's what you do to bad things, right? According to Razor, at least, it is. She will attack and maul and kill anything that she deems a source of hatred and rage and pain, because she likes tearing those things to pieces, that's what she was born to do. The problem is, previously we thought she just did that to anyone and anything. We didn't realize she was being motivated by a twisted moral code, one written in the instant she was born, declaring that anything that reminded her of the old Jewel deserved to die.
She doesn't understand the suffering of her victims, she doesn't understand that people aren't toys, she doesn't understand death.
In her eyes, when she cuts them to shreds, she's only doing what she's supposed to do, regardless of who she does it for, or how.

I wouldn't say I love her. That feels wrong, even in a platonic sense.
But there's this strange, wrenching affection for her in me nevertheless. Maybe it's my stockholm syndrome acting up again. All I know is that part of me genuinely pities her, despite how much she's already made me bleed, and how much more blood she would unquestionably drain from me the instant she was given the opportunity.
She's just a cruel, innocent child.

There's one bit about her that still confuses and disturbs me, though.
When she was resurrected, she was resurrected through the TAR. She was being held within the Razor Spire, and in almost every instance between that date and about a month ago, she was tied to the Tar. She would follow Jess/Jezebel (who were tied for ages, unsurprisingly) immediately after they would hack us, "punishing" us for what THEY did, or simply cutting us because THEY told her to. A few times she would even spawn FROM the Tar, not existing outside of it.
Then in mid-June-- thanks to Infinitii-- the Underground solidified into something unconnected to the Tar Room, and suddenly, Razor wasn't part of the Tar anymore.
"They gave me a reason to cut you," she said. So she never questioned her half-existence under their control. She was literally their puppet, their messenger, their little shadowy assassin. Hell, I even called her "the Razor splinter" in reference to the Tar for a while. And, essentially, she WAS. I wonder if she even had the power to resurrect on her own... probably not, there were no anchors of that sort left. So it explains why she was forcibly brought back by the Tar, and literally fused with it for so long, until she suddenly switched anchors when Infi split the Underground.
Anyway, Knife has noticed this dichotomy in her too, on his own, which is actually what tipped me off. He keeps giving her odd looks, claiming that she is "splintering," or that there are two of her. Razor just replies that "there's only one of her," seemingly unaware of the legitimate, shocking differences between her Tar-connected self, and who she is now, working with the Lowers, unattached to Jess. But she's right, too.
It's strange. She would always come out after Jess hacks-- Jess would do things to cause the body extreme pain, and THEN Razor would appear, and cut us up... but that action was ironically working for AND against the Tar? Yes, it was scarring us and causing us a great deal of pain, but it was also retributive, and motivation for us to continue fighting it... I wonder if the Tar wants that, to keep itself alive. Hm.
It was using the Overload Girl for a while, too, I think. That's why we kept confusing her with Jess/Jezebel. She was so angry all the time, because of how much pain she was in... but we didn't know, because her motivations were identical with Razor's. I need to destroy what threatens my existence.
We didn't understand that, to them, that was the only option they felt they had.

I have so many questions. So many.

...So much of our old information is wrong.
Even if it was correct before, things are changing so quickly now... a great deal of the info in the archives is false, or incomplete, or skewed. We simply did not have enough information to know the truth; that, or the information we did have was viewed through a blurry or stained lens.
With the Lower system now making itself known, so many things are changing. It's a shock, really. All of us upstairs are being forced to completely re-evaluate what we thought we knew about not only headspace, but also our system, our roles within it, and by extension, our very existences.
There is so much we don't know about each other-- about our thoughts, our emotions, our motivations, our lives. And all that miscommunication, all those misunderstandings, are what is causing us the most pain here. Knife even SAID that he was WRONG for having considered me the "sole reason for all the pain in the system," BECAUSE HE DIDN'T KNOW I WASN'T PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THE SPLINTERS. He now admits that it would be wrong to blame me for breaking under trauma, even if "my" splinters are the ones he feels obligated to punish with blood.
But you see what I mean. There's so much we don't know.
I'm not sure where to go from here. Maybe looking back will help. Maybe it won't. But I keep getting nudged to check, even if it's just by the curiosity of those Downstairs or Underground... all I can do is try, right now.


...Oh. Speaking of trying, I forgot to mention this.
Waldorf left Central today.

She's been questioning her role here for a very long time. When we have censuses, she's often accidentally left out. She still can't speak when she fronts. She hasn't been able to find a solid role. And lately, she's been talking about how she doesn't feel like she "fits in" with us, due to her drastically different appearance... and because of how she was originally born. And today, she told us her biggest doubt of all.
She doesn't think she's a headvoice.
To be brutally honest, I've been wondering about that too. Maybe I said it before. But we all wondered the same thing with Spine, remember. She didn't look or feel like us either, her role was different, she couldn't stay stable in a color slot, she couldn't front like the rest of us. Wally had all the same problems, in one way or another. And when Spine left, shortly after she was moved to an "outspacer" slot, Wally apparently began questioning whether or not she should do the same.
Above all, though, there was one point that motivated her more than anything: her old role. Back when she was born in 2003, she wasn't born from trauma, or with a purpose to protect headspace-- that was just coming into existence back then! No, Waldorf was born to be a muse, a shining entity reflecting back bits and pieces of all the outside things that made us smile and dream. She was a mirror of all the things that helped headspace come into being in the first place.
I can't forget my original descriptions of her... eyes like a Mewtwo, hair like Kerrigan, wearing Ryou's Millennium Ring (seriously). She was something "perfectly terrible, yet beautiful..." I claimed that if I ever met her, I wouldn't be able to decide between "hugging her or running away screaming."
And the first night I met her, when I was just beginning to create a room for myself in headspace... she stood (well, floated) by my bed, all glowing blue and strange, but smiling. And I was scared, despite my wonder. Who was she, really? What was she doing there? Yeah, I claimed she was my muse, but that was all I knew about her. She held countless bits and pieces of inspiration, but if you took all that away, who was she?
She didn't answer me directly. I doubt she needed to-- that's not her style anyway. Instead, she showed me what she truly was, what her existence meant... and she took me to the most blessed dream location I have ever visited. The floating crystal forest.
She took me, and Maitru, and Ryou, and herself in a less formidable form, to that place... and I will never, ever forget that experience. To this day, I associate that place with her.
And then she disappeared.
For years I couldn't find her. I wondered about her, true, but I never saw her. Then, as suddenly as she vanished, she reappeared in November 2012, and enthusiastically joined Central as our Blue headvoice. We all loved her; she was fun and friendly and never complained, but she got sick so often, in a way that previously only Spine did. And neither of them ever got over it. Wally kept losing her voice, kept fading in and out of the upstairs...
Long story short, she and I couldn't help but wonder: did she ever truly belong up here? Or could her role, her TRUE role, that of an utter inspiration core, only function OUTSIDE of the stricter rule system Central had inflicted upon her?
She decided she wanted to try and see. So she left.

Everyone was crying as she walked out. And it shocked me to see it, too-- I was outside, in the garden, and suddenly this was happening upstairs, and I had no clue what was going on. When it hit me I could only stand and observe, as a bystander.
All the Central members hugged her goodbye as she stood at the stairway out. Laurie was obviously holding back some fierce emotions; she was the first person I saw, which tipped me off that something big was happening. Leon seemed oddly pained to see his spectrum neighbor go; he first only shook her hand, but she pulled him into a kind hug, which he sincerely returned. Nathaniel accepted her decision, and warmly but sadly wished her farewell. Julie appeared to be hiding a great deal of hurt herself, as she struggles with her own issues of belonging, and Waldorf seemed to know this. She hugged her too, in a rare moment of friendship between them.
Lynne gave her an understanding look, and a sympathetic embrace. Of all of us, she was perhaps the most sorrowful, and yet the least sad, to see her go. Spine is her moirail, you know. The two of them are incredibly close... but Spine isn't around anymore. She left too, for the same reasons Wally has left now. So Lynne understood, even if it hurt.
Josephina was sobbing. He's also the only one that didn't hug her-- after one agonized look, he suddenly kissed her, perhaps for the first time. It broke my heart to see that.
Then Waldorf waved farewell to everyone, and took her first steps out of Central, down the white steps in the garden room, on her way down to the city below.
I know she met up with Spine down there. That's good. I don't know what they're doing, but it feels positive, like they're both feeling better and more inspired already. I hope they find exactly what they're looking for.


This is all making me wonder about outspacers.
I was thinking about Ryman yesterday, and his native world, where Markus is also from. I remembered how they had slowly found our own lives outside of their native worlds a decade ago, along with the original Jewel (my conscious predecessor), having wild and fun adventures in realms that they all dreamed up together.
But they haven't been around in a long time. Did they just go back? Or is there a deeper reason?
Looking at Chaos 0, I can't help but consider the latter. CZ is the only one of our original five that hasn't moved out of total anchorage with his native world, and lately that has been putting severe strain on our relationship. I kept trying to force Ryman and Markus back into theirs, too. Is that why they didn't stick around? Is that why ALL the other Outspacers-- from all years past, from all sorts of worlds-- "faded out" of connection to headspace sooner or later, unable to anchor? Is THAT the "resonance" we saw in Dirk Strider-- was it simply his ability to DREAM of a different self, a different life, tied to his native being but free to grow and evolve beyond what he knew in his waking life? It would make perfect sense, actually... but I'm thinking now, is there another hidden prerequisite for outspacers, one that Spine and Waldorf have just now made me consider?
What if headspace is just a linking station for them? What if they're MEANT to move on beyond it? After all, we all know that we can't disconnect ourselves from the League Worlds, even if we CAN'T enter them as we are... is THAT the problem here? Is THAT why the old Jewels can't connect to those worlds while they're up here, acting as voices?
If so, that might explain why CZ is struggling now. He has several other-lives in League Worlds. He's even a god in the one Genesis hails from. But he hasn't embraced any of those here, even when every other lingering Outspacer has... and I think I'm responsible.
I try to shove him into his native canon role more strongly than I do to Ryman and Markus, and I think all three of them are suffering for it. I am essentially forbidding them from dreaming. Somewhere along the line I became convinced that "they HAD to match only ONE possible life path," the one that their original lives spelled out for them... but when I discovered the Internet, I began shackling them to THOSE paths too. Essentially I was overriding their own choices for as long as they were in headspace. I don't know how I never realized it before.
We were so wild and free in the old days BECAUSE we didn't give a damn about rules or restrictions! We weren't SUPPOSED to!! We were DREAMERS by our very nature, by our very ESSENCE, and we reveled in it. We walked in and out of so many dreamverses-- Yugioh, Sonic, Pokemon, Digimon, Sailor Moon, TMM-- everything and anything that we thought was cool and wanted to dream ourselves into, to try living, even for only a little while. And we had FUN.
But that's also what *incidents* were born from, those dramatic and bloody validations of love we all endured. That's where we got our Soul Wings, our colors, our symbols, our cores. And that's what WALDORF was tied to, too! She LOVED those other worlds, and the fact that EVERYONE was able to reach into them, to take pieces of them into their own souls... she was the manifestation of that, for God's sake. That's what her role meant. That's what a Muse IS.
...
And then, one day, I somehow decided that we couldn't do that anymore.
I "grew up." I stopped dreaming. I felt I had to "play by the rules."
They didn't start drifting away because they didn't want to be around, you idiot, they started drifting away because YOU WOULDN'T LET THEM STAY.
God, this really IS my fault. I am so sorry.
I keep trying to shove them into boxes. Didn't Laurie warn me about that, countless times? I'm not supposed to label things, or restrict things, or forbid things from growing or dreaming or living. And yet that's exactly what I'm doing.
Knife was right. No wonder he hated me. I really am the reason why we're such a mess.
If I didn't think like this, if I didn't compartmentalize and break off everything I didn't feel "allowed" to do or think or feel, there wouldn't be 50 entire people trying to exist in one body right now.

I've heard rumors, here and there, that the Tar isn't our biggest enemy, at least not alone.
In light of Infinitii's existence, people are wondering why no one talks about White energy.
What if the White energy was just as corrupted as the Black, they say, and we just didn't know about it? What if, just like the Tar, there was a being made of clotted, sick, toxic whiteness, infecting all those it touched like a virus or a plague?
People are wondering. The people downstairs are really wondering. The people underground are pointing fingers.
But I'm not saying anything, because at heart, I know what they're all thinking, fearing, dreading. I know, and I'm just as terrified.

I know how the Tar was born. I know. I've heard that story countless times.
It would be just as easy, just as straightforward, to create a similar entity from any other color.
I've done my research. I've read our archives from cover to cover.
And at the end of it all I can only come to one conclusion.

If there is a corruption of the White, some paradoxical being, made of evil purity...
...I'm afraid it would be me.



She knows a good thing now
With our own cost and all can hear the word
In my head and in my thoughts
In my head and in my thoughts

We spend the whole days all
We're feeling more apart
And we know you can do more

Please, don't let me hurt you more
It's in your stare and at your core
Please, don't let me hurt you more
Please, don't let me hurt you more

I know this journey's soon
The color of lights and our lives become as you

Please, don't let me hurt you more
It's in your stare and at your core
Please, don't let me hurt you more
Please, don't let me hurt you more