Well, I did the thing I said I would.
I got a job, I have income now, and I don't want to waste it on addictions, so I am giving it to other people for creative colorful imaginative purposes.
I feel a little nauseous about it to be honest. It's bizarre though because it's grief nausea? Like it's a mourning feeling, something so full of inexplicable anguish that it makes me want to curl up on the floor and throw up.
If I had to guess, right off the bat, I'd say it's grief tied to a feeling that "my life is worthless, I've wasted my chances, I'm not what I hoped I would become, therefore I'm only worth anything as a supplement to someone else's life."
In short, "I'm not a real artist, I never was, I feel no joy tied to it and I wish I did... but this person is, and I owe them a LOT even if I don't remember it, so I will help them."

It's a sad feeling. "I'm not an artist." "I'm not good enough." I hope it's not true, solely because I have so much love for the Leagueworlds and I WANT to share them, but...
I'll be honest. I've been very depressed and disillusioned lately, because I keep realizing how problematic my "stories" are, or how critically undeveloped and/or shallow they are, or how alien they are to other people. It makes me very very sad because, to be totally blunt, I only ever wrote them "FOR MYSELF" because nothing else out there spoke to my heart, and these things just glowed in it so I embraced them with every atom of my being. These stories are of my heart, for my heart, etc.
So... now, needing to "publish" them, needing to make them "socially proper" or "understandable by the masses" or whatever... I'm becoming terribly depressed, because I feel that I have to rewrite them totally to fit OTHER people, therefore ostracizing myself yet again, this time from the only thing I ever really felt accepted in.
It's why I got so sad in SLC in 2010. I remember that. Those two kids CARED and they wanted to HELP, but... they were rewriting the Leagueworlds through their own eyes, their own surface-level understandings of the rich imaginative things that were meshed up in my very soul. They couldn't understand those stories like I could, heck I didn't even talk about them, but... I gave enough little details. I tried to guess "what they'd like to hear," "what was relevant to THEIR interests." Because I CARED TOO! And I loved my stories and I loved those kids and if they wanted to share in my one unwavering source of joy then yes, please do.
But it... it didn't quite work? I didn't stand up for myself, they didn't realize they were treading all over my dreams, in an effort to join the dance. I never said anything. I never spoke up when their ideas, however brilliant, were completely at odds and unfitting with the way the "canon" worlds shone in my mind. Why didn't I speak up? Because I was convinced that they understood my creative work better than me, therefore they had the authority to do WHATEVER they wanted to my work, as it was now effectively THEIRS.
This is how lowly I think of myself. This is a problem.
I wish, I still wish desperately and dearly, that I had been able to continue sharing my work with them. I really do. But I'd have to be smarter about it, I'd have to be more self-respectful, I'd have to be more clear.
I'm trying to share stuff online right now but... I don't know.

I'm overwhelmed. I keep saying that. I'm overwhelmed.
It's not just the medical bills and the new job and the family concerns and my own heartbreakingly bizarre state in life. It's... it's this Leagueworld work. It's this creative work, the ONLY thing that EVER gave me a "purpose" as a child, the ONLY FUTURE I HAD, the ONLY REASON I HAD TO LIVE until headspace/heartspace started... this creative work was my life, and still is, except...
I'm burnt out. It's... it's lost the shine, just like the art did. It turned into a job, into something that needed a grade, and hundreds of hours of cold hard research behind it. Now don't get me wrong, research is all well and good, but it kills imagination after a while. Just like the art classes did. I became terrified to work from spontaneity and intuition and childlike boundless ideas anymore, because NOW I had to worry about, "what grade will I get?" "is this WRONG?" "will this appeal to the public?" "is my art structured correctly?" "was this work executed properly?" et cetera. It killed the joy. It sucked the life right out of it.

...I'm trying, so hard, to just throw these damned shackles off for good and go back to what I did as a child. Fearless, limitless creativity. To hell with this adult perfectionism. I'm tired.
Except no one wants to buy art from a child. Except no one is interested in a child's stories.
Online I see what people want, what they pay for, what they talk about... it crushes my heart because it's all still so alien to me, and that's... I have nothing against it, it's fine, I'm GLAD people enjoy it and are inspired by it and are happy, but... if that's what they want, what am I doing?
I don't expect droves of fans, Lord no. I don't expect anything really. I just hope that... that I can one day actually share the ENTIRETY of these stories I carry with the world, and that someone will find real joy and inspiration in them. That's all I want.

But I can't share them until I know what the hell I'm doing with them.
That creativity drainage... it put so much on hold. It froze so many timelines. A couple worlds turned toxic and I couldn't even look at them anymore. vo!t@ge, Mage Angels, Parnassus, Puppetstrings... all tainted in big or small ways. Others, like Hokthai and Halcyon Days, were smothered under the literal months of hard research I was "required" to do JUST to "get an idea across."
Maybe this is immature but really, screw that. I'm DONE. I'm tired as hell and I'm miserable and the ONE THING that used to give me such joy is now making me want to weep from sheer exhaustion.
I'm just... even if it ends up sounding like something a ten-year-old wrote, I don't care. I'm just going to start writing on my own, and see where that takes me.
I'll still read, and research, of course. I save up piles of data in my head, and then one day if something fits, then it fits. But it's passive. It's finding a place where it works without obsessing over it.

I don't know. I'm at a loss.
What the hell do I do with my life?
I keep getting pushed back into headspace/heartspace. The Spectrum. You know, us.
No matter how I try to run away, no matter how I try to annihilate the past, no matter how desperately I try to abandon and erase and forget and sometimes even destroy the "other people upstairs"... it doesn't work. It doesn't ever work.
My therapist said this is my "hero's journey" and God I'm just tired of fighting all these dragons, even with a knight at my side.
I'm just... my heart hurts. A lot. I feel so lost. I'm really... I'm really confused.

I want to stay with these people inside, at least... half of me does.
Half of me is jubilant and bright and fearless and powerful and hopeful and THAT part of me, that white-haired part of me, wants to stay with the Spectrum forever and illuminate everything with that growth and knowledge.
Another part of me... deals with everyday life. That's me. I'm stuck. I'm miserable, I'm self-abusive, I admittedly waste all my time just trying to "cope" and trying to "ignore" all the overwhelming shadows inside... Jay says we can't, he says he WANTS to do shadow-work, he says it's "very close to his heart," he WANTS to do it.
But I'm in the way. I'm in the goddamned way, worrying about food and bills and shelter and shit. Too damn blinded by the physical daily grind to pay any attention to the health of our soul.
That's making the creativity suffer too. When we're in this work mindset, we don't get home until about 1PM, then what do we do? God only knows. We SHOULD be painting, we SHOULD be trying to sketch out our old monster designs, we SHOULD be working on plot questions and worldbuilding... but no, we don't. And do you know why? Because I am ashamed.
Again, it's like I said. I am ashamed that my work ends up looking like a grade schooler did it, even if that's how it's always been, even if that's how things just seem to translate for me. Hell even the THERAPIST said that today, that even though our body is 25 we still have a vibe of someone around 17, tops. I told her we feel 14 or younger, typically, in a physical state at least.
But... the shame is killing me. Why am I so ashamed?

I can't be ranting about this. We didn't exercise today and I need to, even if it is already 11PM and I'm already sacrificing sleep again.

I'll tell the people upstairs to talk about this. Jay says he wants to talk about things too, but there's no time right now, not wisely anyway, I think.

We're learning a lot lately, it's just SCARY HEAVY STUFF and integrating it REQUIRES patience and peace and quiet, something we have to go out of our way to get currently. We are listening to intuition more readily and quickly now, myself included, and it IS helping. Genesis is sticking around and he's one of the few people left inside that doesn't take any shit from anyone. If I fck up he calls me out on it, refuses to let me continue. Laurie is helping. I appreciate that more than words can say.

Jay is trying to work with Infinitii and Chaos again after all the large-scale "clearing out" he's been trying to do with energy fields... there's a lot of programming and projection and corruption going on but Jay can see it pretty damn well so he's working on it. I know he's concerned about the past though, how much needs to be abandoned, how much is relevant, etc. But I think he knows. He's just struggling to bring it into conscious, coherent words.

All right that's it, I'm done for tonight.

I hope this payment plan pays off. Like I said, I feel weird about it... like I don't belong there, like I'm sacrificing two weeks of paychecks per month to be part of something that doesn't even want me, that CAN'T accept me, that rejects me by its very structure. THAT'S what I'm afraid of. I see the other people in this and... I'm frightened. I never fit in with people here, now I'm not fitting in with people THERE either, and... it's very very sad and scary. But I'm trying to be empathetic. I'm trying to keep an open mind. I'm hoping, I'm hoping so hard that one day I won't feel like I have to put on a stupid plastic fake mask just to survive THERE, too. I shouldn't have to, for heaven's sakes the place is supposed to BE the opposite of that.
Anyway the choice was made (again). I won't back out this time, I can't. It's too big a debt that needs to be paid, if nothing else.

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


@ 09:01 pm

 


Well, I got in trouble. Serves me right.

The person I was hoping to support financially for their art, found out that I'm basically being a pain in the ass and blacklisted me, while taking extra measures to forbid me (and any other scammers/ manipulators/ etc) from ever accessing their feed in the future.
I'm glad. That means something good came out of this whole damn mess.
Serves me right for ignoring my gut and listening to the damn voices. "Pay her your entire salary!" they scream. "There's still an option open, you MUST TAKE IT!!! Sacrifice yourself for HER!!!"
Sound familiar?

So I was sick last night and sick today and I spent all morning at work talking to Laurie and thinking about this... and when I got home I cancelled. Again. Hence me being blacklisted by my previous artistic muse/idol and basically ending up on her shitlist, instead of a list of people she was thankful for.
Honestly it was only a matter of time before I fcked up like this. Serves me right, like I said.


I want to send her an apology but I really have no fcking right. I have no right.

Yes, one of us looked up to her more than anything in our teenage years... or so we were told. Yes, one of us basically felt they owed a life debt to her and was willing to do ANYTHING for her, to the extent of this.

Unfortunately we screwed up in our execution of this "ideal" and ended up just... fcking it up. There's no other way to put it.
Now she thinks we're a con man, now she thinks we're dishonest and sleazy and honestly she's probably right. We signed on to help her with every intention of bleeding ourselves dry for it. But 24 hours of nausea and troubled sleep later, we realized that we don't even know why the hell we're doing this anymore, and we backed out. She caught on and she's dead sick of our shit now.

So. It's over.
It's over.


Back in 2004 or so, we discovered her art. Back then, it was the most beautiful, inspiring thing we had ever seen.
We wanted to be like her. We wanted her to approve of us. We wanted to impress her, to earn worth as an artist. We wanted to be her friend.
We dreamed of a day when we'd mean enough to her for her to name us, for her to give us a NEW life, a new purpose... a role in HER dream, something we saw as bigger and brighter and better than anything we could ever do or be. It never happened.
That's why we were so desperate to help her now... because there was a chance of that. Except, now... we didn't want that anymore. We didn't WANT to be a part of "her world" because her world is ALIEN to us now, alien and unsettling and frankly threatening in some cases. It's not safe for us and that tears my soul to shreds but... I've been pacing the floor about this for months, and no matter how hard I tried, no matter how hard I tried to force myself to care as much as I allegedly did once, as honestly as I could... nothing worked. I just... nothing worked. It's gone.

There was a day when her dreams, her worlds, were something we treasured and wanted nothing more than to be a part of.
Now, I don't recognize any of it.

We felt obligated to support her current work. We felt we HAD to.
But... the more I see what it's become, the more I read of it, the more I see of the fandom, I... I don't like it.
There, I said it. I don't like it. It doesn't speak to me anymore. I can't. I'm legitimately frightened of it now and I DON'T want to support it because it means nothing to me now, and that breaks my heart because there was a time when that story was as beloved to me as my own.
Back then it was something totally different, though. Now, it's not. And I need to let go, and move on, and stop acting like "I owe them one" because they don't give a shit about me and I have no right to ask that to change. I have done NOTHING but cause them pain and frustration and disappointment, all because I keep "acting" like they're the greatest thing in my life when honestly, I have no fcking clue who they are or what they're about.
I don't. I really dont. And I am so, so so sorry, but it's true.


I own some of her artwork. I feel so guilty to own it now. I'll need to sell it, without looking ungrateful, because I'm not. Other people just deserve to have this more than me.


It's so weird. Things keep falling away from me, things that were significant parts of my life for years, unwavering, are suddenly disappearing or crumbling to the ground.
This was one of the biggest. I never expected this. But here it is.
So it's over. I'm no longer part of their dream. I no longer have to feel forced to participate in a dream I don't understand, and don't feel welcome in.
I mean... this used to give me joy. Now, just thinking about it makes me nauseous, because I feel like I HAVE to be an intrinsic part of it, "like I once wanted to be," and I don't. I don't want this anymore. I can't remember when I once did.
I'm sorry, I keep repeating this.
It's just a huge loss, conceptually, whether I feel it or not. This is a HUGE loss, potentially earth-shaking, if I could feel anything, if I could remember anything.


In any case I feel ugly and worthless and terrible now, for what I caused. For what she felt, and perceived, and said.
I feel like a thief and a liar and a back-stabbing jerk and I feel like Judas Iscariot. I feel like the worst betrayer.

I only ever had the best intentions here. I really, really wanted to help her, at the cost of my own success if I had to.
But this isn't the first time I've done that for someone.
This isn't the first time I forgot why I was even doing it in the first place.
This isn't the first hope I've crushed.
This isn't the first "friendship" I've destroyed.
This isn't the first dream I've buried under six feet of concrete.

God willing it will be the last.




I once wanted to be one of them, snow-haired with a diamond smile, pure and free and happy. God I wanted that more than anything, and I was convinced that ONLY SHE could grant that to me, mercifully, graciously.
Now I've lost that chance forever.
It was so close, so close... but... well, now it's gone.
Ten years later, the dream is dead. I've woken up and I'll never have it again.
I need to come to terms with this, once I can really grasp the reality of what I've lost here, ideals and otherwise.

In a way it's freeing. I'm no longer burdened with the awful heavy guilty scared obligation, "you NEED to be a part of this, why the hell haven't you joined them yet, why the hell aren't you acting like them, what the hell kind of a supporter are you," etc.
I didn't realize until this morning that my hesitance was because I no longer understood why I "needed," let alone wanted, any of it.


I've been chasing a phantom for a very very very long time now, I think.
The rainbow I've been tailing faded away a very long time ago, but it was burned so strongly onto my eyelids I didn't notice.


Everything that meant anything to me about that world... I wonder, was it self-generated?
Was it simply because I saw so much of myself and my dreams reflected in it, that I couldn't see what didn't fit? And now that the dissonance is louder than ever, I can't cope with the truth?
I think everything I ever loved about it was all me. I think so. It's heartbreaking. I mean, hell, what the fck did I even know about her story? I wasn't part of her group, I was too scared to intrude, to attempt to join, to speak up at all... I didn't know their history. I didn't know their story. I didn't even know the fcking SOURCE MATERIAL.
I was playing it by ear the ENTIRE FUCKING TIME and now here I am feeling like I lost something?
I think what I really lost was the delusion that her world would adhere to my heart. I blinded myself to what didn't fit, I focused only on the concepts I loved, and then I acted like it was everything I'd ever dreamed of. I'm starting to wonder if it ever was.
God I don't know. This is... this is huge. This is so jarring.


I can't do this anymore.
No matter how desperately I still "wish" I could be a part of that world, that community... it's empty. If I was given a chance, to suddenly and without effort become a big part of it, I think I'd freak out and bail. When I really think about it, I DON'T want to be a part of it anymore. And that's the key.
IT ISN'T JUST ME. IT NEVER WAS.
When it hit me that there was a fandom behind this, a community, that the creator was DIFFERENT than me in several unignorable key ways... I basically bailed. I'm so sorry to say that.
I just... can't do it. I can't do this fandom thing. I've tried. I can't. Does that make me broken, too? I do worry about that.

I know there are so many others that still view it as something dear to their hearts and I am glad for that.
But... I can't. I don't fit in there. I never did. And now I never will.
Whatever it meant to me in the long-distant past, I have retained within myself, as its own concept, as something totally seperate from where I saw it reflected.
It's over. It's over. It's over.

This has been dying for a very very very long time and now, the woman who breathed life into it has signed its death warrant.
The one who began all this has now ended it. Full circle. Unquestionable. Unchangeable.


I fcked up big time, and that's about it.




I'm truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
I sincerely only wanted to help you.
I just wasn't capable.
I idolized you to the point where I didn't even know who you were.
I skewed your creations to the point where I didn't realize what they actually were.
I put you so high up on a personal pedestal, I didn't realize it wasn't you at all.
I'm so sorry.
I wish you the very, very, very best.
Continue to build and share your dream.
I may not understand it anymore, but I can see your passion in it, and I am happy for that.
I am so glad you are seeing this dream of yours come to life.
I am glad you were wise enough to stand up to my wrongdoings.
Again, I never meant to appear as such a criminal, but it is only right.
Thank you, for everything you've done to inspire me, in every way.
Thank you, for dreaming so fiercely, and bringing that dream to light.
You are an inspiration to many and that will never change.
May all your endeavors continue to be successful.

This is where we part ways, for better or for worse,
although I may be nothing but a stranger to you.
You were one of the biggest forces in my life, for many years.

Your role in my life was momentous, and your existence profoundly changed mine.
Your work influenced and inspired and motivated me in so many ways.
Again, I am grievously sorry for what I have done in my foolishness.
I do not hate you, I wish you no harm.
I cannot continue down this road but I will shake your hand here before it's over.
Trippy, you gave me courage when once I had none,
and I can never thank you enough for that.

Keep creating. Keep dreaming. Keep coloring the lives of others.
If there is anyone in the world who I have the utmost faith in to do that,
it's you.
Thank you.

 

 

 

 

TRACK 28 (june 29th 2015)

(Jay) Okay, we are taking notes on Morpheus for topics that we need to discuss. Uh... we need to talk to people in the System who are damaged. Fear is a protector, sadness is important. Um, Jeremiah being afraid of-- of women, because, oversexualization of women, uh-- Eros saying sexual energy is more-- think of it as generative energy. Think of it that way. We're not taking that away from femininity or anything, we're taking away the sexualization, a.k.a. the pornographization that our society has done. That needs to be taken OUT of it, it's not obligatory just because you're around a woman or a man or anything. That is what we need to fix. Um, another thing we need to fix is, we need to figure out what is going on with sadness. A lot-- there is still so much sadness... people that just want to sit and cry and cry and cry, and I think we need to, to an extent... um, I'm getting off topic, I'm sorry. People who are afraid, look at why they're afraid, look at what they're afraid of, work through that. You know what to do, but we need to discuss this.

(later)

So. It's not a fear of the Xangas, it's a fear of going home. Try having them on the porch, because in the room it doesn't feel safe. Uh, having them outside of the house, a.k.a. in Borders or somewhere like that would be optimal, and I wish we could do that now but we don't have a plug with us and we're not sure where to go. Also I think somebody needs the car. So we do need to get home as soon as possible. But, keep that in mind, there is fear tied to the HOME. That is where these-- these younger people come out and they just want to cry and sleep because they don't want to be, at home. We really-- that is the one thing that makes Salt Lake-- well, the one big thing that makes Salt Lake redeemable is that, we were... out, and away from that, and that sort of pure absolute joyful freedom is what made us want to stay, what makes us want to go back. It was totally detached from staying with other people. So... sit and write this down and talk about this, but, like I said, please, go out on the porch. Take your stuff out on the porch, don't go on the internet anymore-- the therapist told you flat-out don't look at Gnostic stuff anymore, you know the truth, don't get confused. Don't get confused! They would tell you that Julie had no right to live, and we don't believe that. Me and the System believe that everyone, every soul ever, exists for a purpose, and can be redeemed-- that nothing is permanently evil, that if everything was created of God, then, nothing is truly, permanently-- nothing is ever really separate from God. It's an illusion. Even if you feel like you're in hell, it's just because you're... you're blind to that fact, at the moment. This is turning into jargon, I'm sorry. What I'm trying to say is... you know in your heart what you have to do. Do that.

 
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@11:59 PM


quick update so i dont forget.

- more reading today. turns out we HAVE HAD THE RIGHT IDEA ALL ALONG. laurie is simultaneously furious, grieving, and joyous (which is a rather typical mix of emotions for her) because she has been TELLING US THIS FOR YEARS but we've been so paranoid and scared, listening to other people instead. well we're on the right track.
- looking back on our past... there's been a LOT of "synchronicity" or parallels with what we're reading, without us even being aware of the things we were reflecting. it's scary and exciting all at once, because damn that's one hell of a big responsibility if we ARE truly finding this stuff out on our own, CORRECTLY. mainly, we need to stay honest with ourselves, stop forcing ourselves into patterns and programs that aren't good or correct for us, that don't fit at all... we need to go back inside. there's nothing "evil" about going inside our own soul and working there, like we used to. so much is trying to distract us now, lead us astray, so to speak... we're aware of it, but fear and its partner of ignorance are the biggest obstacles. nevertheless they only occur in dissociation... in depersonalization, of forgetting about US, about what WE ARE. so again, it's just going to take a lot of compassion, forgiveness, and bravery, to assert ourselves and get back on the right track.
- now we're just scared of "being too far gone" with how we've let ourselves be messed up. i hope it's not too late.
- i'm sorry if any of these recent entries on this topic sound inapproproate or whiny or dramatic or otherwise contrived/ harmful. we are just trying our best to write this out for our entire mind to understand and see. we don't like when explosive entries happen, they hurt, they're made of hurt. all we can do is do our best to stay in a life position where such things won't occur, where the people who write such things are not so hurt.

- therapy today was SOMETHING ELSE. we walked in there very numb-depressed and that's all i know offhand. then apparently, laurie fronted, practically forced her anchor to ground so no one could kick her out from fear or anything, and proceeded to try and talk about yesterday's entries. i don't know how far she got. i'm honestly not even aware what she was talking about, other than the fact that she was very distressed and kept running her fingers over her scars.
- the real star of therapy today was JULIE. she came out after laurie, assumedly because she could speak on that topic (the whole tangled sex/religion trauma thing from childhood) better than anyone else. i'm honestly shocked though because apparently she spoke about HER ROLE IN ALL OF IT. which she has NEVER done before, to ANYONE outside the Spectrum. she talked for at least 15 minutes i assume, which is just.... incredible really. my heart goes out to her, that must have been really difficult, but i know how set her own heart is on being honest and repairing what she damaged, on helping everyone heal now. so we're all very, very grateful for her right now, and the effort she put forward today. we have literally NEVER discussed trauma roots in therapy before but she just blew the gates wide open.

- genesis and jay went to see "inside out" before therapy. it was very insightful and inspiring, and probably played a significant role in how we were able to have such a good therapy session, having just been reminded how important ALL our emotional responses were, in their own way.
- a warning: do not go see that movie with your imaginary friend unless you want to do a LOT of crying, haha. seriously though it really yanked at our heartstrings. genesis teafully asked jay again "don't ever forget me" and jay said he wouldn't, ever; back in 2005 our core bloodline promised him that and no one has broken it. we don't plan to.
- we were kind of laughing though because there, everyone has 5 "inner voices" as emotions, that's kind of how we started out, with just a handful of known headvoices-- julie, laurie, lynne, jewel, jess/jemma, natalie. and now we literally have at LEAST 100 so our internal management setup is a lot more complicated, haha. but again, this movie gave us another self-knowing lens to look at our life through. it does help, to take that and look at core motivations and responses, in our own context.
- it's also making me feel a LOT better about the deluge of anon hate we got in 2013 or so, on tumblr. one scathing remark that haunted me was "you're just making up characters for your emotions," but now doing this exercise, i've realized that IS NOT THE CASE. it is literally IMPOSSIBLE to assign a headvoice to an emotion! they all have JOBS. they are real people, as far as we are concerned, they are complex. laurie might register as "anger" at first but she is 100% capable of every other emotion, same with julie and lynne and leon and nathaniel and everyone else. the only people who might seem one-dimensional are socials and splinters, no surprise there, because THEY AREN'T COMPLETE PEOPLE. their function forbids it! so yeah, this is helping me stop feeling so paranoid about our existence "being fake" because of something a stranger said. kind of ridiculous how such remarks cut so deep, but there you go
- lastly laurie's only response to being compared to this movie was "we really need sparkly hair." lynne and julie agreed so yeah if you see any headvoices walking around with really glittery locks that is why. (i know the emotions in the film were mostly particles but it looked sparkly and sparkles are cool so hey)


- cz is still a mess. honestly ze's been a mess for many many years, probably SINCE he solidly entered the Spectrum (using that word instead of "system" now, has a less constrictive vibe) in early 2004. ze holds way too much negativity and ze is really torn up over it, but really ze doesn't even need to hold on to that stuff. it was given to hir and is not something mandatory. yet again, this ties back to the fact that ze is the only outspacer that never really let go of their original world, at all. which is a big problem, because ze held a lot of negativity in hir original world. bottom line, with all this religious/sexual distress and confusion lately, with hir being caught up in the middle of it all thanks to hir relationship status and history and associations and name, well. it's a mess. and ze just wants out. so we're all trying to clear our eyes to see the cleanest, easiest way out of that. no use convoluting it more.
- on that note the system feels like it's trying to make either an old jewel (age between 12-16) or a new boy the new host?? the name "jay" has become TOXIC, no idea how offhand? probably from unique trauma though, over the past few years. i don't know when people started using the name. the biggest problem though is that we really CAN'T go back to using the name "jewel" for our boy hosts because that parallels some HORRENDOUS trauma back in 2012. so i dont know. laurie's really sad about it, chaos is too, but frankly his emotions are cycling from "resigned depressed emptiness" and "self-hating outwardly projected rage," and he is STILL splitting like mad. his "manic" side has ALWAYS been effectively an "alter" of his, a split of his psyche, and we keep glossing over the fact that they inhabit the same body usually, i mean hell they have FOUGHT in front of us before, we are WELL AWARE that he's got some serious inner conflict. THE PROBLEM IS that the "neutral" chaos is TIMELOCKED??? like he remembers hoseki, who is about 15-16, but he says HIS memory gets fuzzy around college, then starts coming back with the white-haired jays??? i have no freaking clue. headspace is weird and everyone gets bothered by internal trouble, that's what happens when you're all tied to one collective soul and all that. but yeah chaos is a total mess.
- we're thinking he's split into maybe FOUR at this point?? 1) timelocked "original" one, who is very subdued and quiet and shy, in love with the jewel of that time (hoseki, i think? we're trying to give different names to all the major age-changes but frankly that one just feels like an older jewel.). he can go perfect but it's a dissociative state?? again we're not sure if that counts as an alter for him at this point or what. also, this chaos (the original) is basically identical to his original canon appearance, except with a mouth and visible irises. HOWEVER 2) gets triggered by those appearance shifts, he's the one who's more extroverted, flirty, temperamental, etc. this one hits the infinite forms. he's rather ego-driven and although he claims he loves the same jewel it's a very conditional relationship, mostly passion really. we're thinking this one was with the older jewels, judging by what entries we remember. then there is 3) POSSIBLY "perfect chaos," the kaiju-looking one. we're not sure, he might count as a splinter. but listing him separately because of the 4th incident in which chaos was "trapped inside his own mind" when he went perfect, and we could interact with him SEPARATELY from perfect, insinuating that there was a split of SOME sort happening. lastly is 4), whatever chaos keeps trying to rename hirself "serenity" and things, MUCH more feminine than the others in vibe, also NOT TIED TO ORIGINAL CANON. this "chaos" is AQUA in color, not blue, and always wears lots of gold jewelry that quite honestly reminds me of indian bridal jewelry. no idea why but it's a constant. this individual is SYSTEM-ANCHORED and has the feminine "edge" that allows for power and steadfastness, and which also makes hir "safe" for some reason??? i guess the whole "chaos being assigned male" thing got too tangled up in trauma, the System was like "nope that's not working." cz has always been technically androgynous but again, it's the assignment, and the projected reflection tied to that (ESPECIALLY with religion, and slc by extension) became very very distressing for those he was close to.
- this really needs its own entry, sorry for babbling.
- julie said, in therapy, that we NEED to talk about the whole issue with chaos in therapy, because he has been THE SINGLE CONSTANT in headspace since its inception, and he has been connected to EVERY HOST as well. which makes hir IRREPLACEABLY IMPORTANT. so... the fact that hackers keep targeting him (again since they started), the fact that he is so confused identity-wise thanks to both his native fandom and our experiences with outer confusion, the fact that his fidelity can sometimes be unwise and he'll do anything for the people he cares for, even to the point of severely harming himself and/or the very relationship he is trying to help.... the fact that our current main fronters have once again "forgotten who he is" and have almost destroyed his anchor plushes as a result of that rejection (dont worry that is strictly forbidden after the celebi incidents)... and the fact that this time, that rejection/ forgetting is RELIGIOUSLY motivated, and therefore has tons of paranoia and fear and regret and self-hatred behind it... all that is very very troublesome, because we would like to keep cz in this system if at all possible, but we're all very scared that things might be too busted-up for that to happen. we can't lose hope though, for hir sake. there just might have to be BIG changes in order for things to function again. as long as cz stays alive and loved we'll be fine.
- but that's the issue, i repeat: it's the same issue that almost killed the celebi outspacer pattern and only didn't because that individual became OBJECTIFIED (yeah, we need to talk about that too). it is this chain of events:
1. "i care about this person and consider them a dear friend. i like them a lot."
2. "i love this person; i feel powerful compassion and personal affection towards them."
3. "i want to show my love towards this person somehow. i want to be close to them."
4. HACKERS AND RELIGIOUS FEAR STEPS IN!!!!!
5. "i have experienced trauma tied TO my love towards this person and i cannot cope with it."
6. "i don't know how to show OR feel love towards this person without being reminded of trauma."
7. "i cannot forgive myself for feeling something that led to such trauma, from my ignorance/hope."
8. "i cannot reconcile the love i feel for this person with the way trauma now affects how i see them."
9. "i cannot be around this person, as they remind me of trauma and my mistakes."
10. "i dislike this person as i now equate them with my abuse/ my mistakes/ my evilness."
11. "i must forget this person as i cannot cope with the overwhelming guilt/ shame/ pain tied to them."
12. "i want nothing to do with this person anymore. i do not know who this person is."

see?
we keep cycling through THAT WHOLE FREAKING THING every time there's a massive hack, OR both chaos and jay try too damn hard to "do what the religion tells them to do," but jay CAN'T but he keeps FORCING himself so he doesn't "go to hell," etc... every single time trauma happens, and chaos is involved, we end up rapidly going from steps 5-12 and then there's a horrific period of hatred and misery and numbness until SOMETHING happens (usually laurie, she's a force of nature in her own right) and jay ends up crumbling into love and forgiveness again, and tries again.
then more trauma happens and the whole damn thing repeats
we need a better way to manage this.

BUT, I want you to notice what i just said. and THAT is why chaos/ cz/ serenity/ whatever name ze uses is VITALLY IMPORTANT TO THE SPECTRUM.
whenever ze isn't around, whenever a host/core "forgets" hir... everything grays out.
depression, emptiness, numbness sets in. self-loathing, self-abuse, bitterness and snappy rage set in. we don't know what to do, where to turn, how to progress. the Spectrum starts nervously fishing for NEW HOSTS because apparently this cycle MAKES THE CURRENT HOST "UNFIT" due to this huge influx of trauma-related negativity.
the current host isn't even sleeping holding the anchor plush which means NO nighttime headspace connections, NO internal compassion, etc. it's a very very very bad sign but again it's that damn religious paranoia keeping them apart mostly now, not just the trauma entanglement. what do we do about this

this sort of thing has happened with infinitii too, and honestly there is a LOT of seething hatred directed towards hir from someone inside (and it IS one of the white-haired hosts, no clue which one), but being a daemon, the trend is to "kill hir" and wait for hir to respawn, and then "try again."
death/ resurrection is a very very VERY volatile thing in headspace; rule of thumb is that you DO NOT KILL PEOPLE IN ORDER TO "RESET THEM" BECAUSE THAT MAY NOT HAPPEN AND ALSO THAT IS MORALLY WRONG. but the traumatized people think like that. "destroy the mirror of the trauma, and maybe i won't feel so disgustingly filthy and unforgiveable." so the dead one returns... usually... and then the problem happens. SOMEONE "TRIES AGAIN."
you do realize, this disaster ONLY happens because THE TRAUMA IS INHERENTLY TIED TO THE RELIGIOUS COMPULSION. i am dead serious, if we didn't have VIRTUALLY EVERY DAMN BELIEF SYSTEM WE'VE EVER SUBSCRIBED TO TELLING US THAT "SEX IS AN INHERENT HUMAN QUALITY/ IF YOU DON'T HAVE SEX YOU AREN'T HUMAN/ IF YOU'RE GAY OR ASEXUAL OR TRANS YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO HEAVEN/ YOU NEED TO LEARN TO LIKE STRAIGHT SEX OR YOU'LL NEVER BE A COMPLETE HUMAN BEING/ YOU'LL NEVER BE GODLY WITHOUT BEING SEXUAL/ ETC ETC ETC AND IT'S ALL DEMONIC LIES
BUT
someone in the system, someone deep deep deep down, believes it with the wholehearted terrified fear of a child. "they're right, and i'm scared and sick and existentially shattered, because doing that is frightening and painful, it's NOT right for me, but I don't have the luxury of having opinions like that because i have been given a MORAL ULTIMATUM and if i don't obey, absolutely, well then it would have been better if i had never been born."
it's all a lie. it's all a terrible lie.
i hope it is.
it's so stupid. now we're busted-up to the point where we're not only being told multiple conflicting things, but we're trying to do ALL those conflicting things at once, and the dissociation is making it worse.

it's been tested, you know. IN hack situations. by stupid people.
fragment, the scientist, eros, some hosts, they've ALL "tested" whether or not we actually want this/ can do this or not, when we're NOT dissociated.
we can't.
it's been a constant, for a DECADE, that when we're conscious and lucid, WE CAN'T DO THIS. WE DON'T WANT IT.
but then the religious compulsion kicks in, "i must want this,"
then the hormones kick in, "just dissociate and learn to like it,"
then the terror kicks in, "wait a second this isn't what i want at all is it?"
then the doubt kicks in, "maybe if i endure it just this once i'll be fixed, i'll be holy, i'll be healed, i won't have to do this ever again, i'll be doing the right thing..."
god i want to cry and vomit again.
i'm sorry.

so chaos got tangled up in that HORRIBLY because
1) people saying "if you love someone you must marry them"
2) people saying "if you love someone and are married to them you must sleep with them"
3) tons and tons of fear over that because it's IMPOSSIBLE for those two
4) the awful parts of 2011 where there was forced abuse for that purpose
5) dissociation everywhere
6) hosts forgetting what love feels like because they're too busy killing themselves trying to "do the right thing"
7) hosts being terrified to get close to anyone anymore because it feels like trauma
8) chaos being labeled as "evil" because of his given name, because of his trauma ties, and because, god forbid, he "dared to love someone," etc.
9) godforsaken salt lake city i swear, that was the final nail in the coffin, doubt became suffocating after that
10) we want to forgive him. we want to be able to untangle this creature from this trauma hell, because he only ever held the idea of it, he was only ever trying to do what other people wanted of him,
11) but that's "idiot compassion," it's better to be good than nice, REAL GOODNESS ISN'T NICE, if chaos stopped trying to "make people happy" he wouldn't be in this hell either, but that's our problem too,
12) we don't even know how much of this is the tar or the plague, we know the tar used to disguise itslef as him all the time when we were kids, we KNEW because it doesnt feel OR look like him, we know, but damn it when youre dissociated as all hell you dont even realise whats hapening to your OWN body let alone whether or not you recognize whoever the hell is with you at the time

THERAPY, we need to talk about this in therapy,
we need to have a xanga about this, we need to review past stuff again, weve forgotten so muhc,

god i am so so sorry i shold not be typing abtou this wer e going in circle.s




- we're officially taking a break from tumblr. we need to. it's become too toxic, it's feeding too much negativity daily, we're realizing, no matter how briefly we visit. so no more, at least until the stevenbomb in july, and even then we have to be massively vigilant because fandoms are largely toxic too, they've nearly ruined a lot of media experiences for us.
- laurie is rather furious that whenever we see jasper it tends to leak into her overlay? because of their similarities. so she's adamant that we stop "looking for reflections of her in the fandom" on tumblr, full stop, as it's NOT going to happen. we agree, it's just hurting everyone.

- it's 1am and sleep is needed, our eating habits are still kind of dismal to be honest, we got VERY sick today. so we need to recover. again we know what to do but we're "afraid" and keep "doing what other people do" even if we know it's harmful. it's doubt, doubt is poison, doubt is distrust in our own experience, doubt is fear. we need to be brave. we need to persevere.

 

 

 

I’m legitimately suicidal again and I apologize.
I’m just dead empty. I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here with medical and financial problems, not seeing any future for myself, and this stupid goddamn mental disorder shit on top of it all.
I’m tired. I’m very tired, and I just want everything to stop. I want to go to sleep and not wake up anymore. I sincerely mean that, and I have no idea why I’m typing this here but I guess some idiotic part of my brain is just looking for something non-harmful and non-frightening about my immediate environment right now.
I don’t know if I can be talked out of this anymore. It’s been going for too long, too strongly.
I just don’t want to have to die, you know? I would like to be able to be happy with life. I just don’t know how, all the “suggestions” that people usually give have made it worse.
I want to be “happy” but the problem is that for me, being “happy” means not existing, in one way or another. For a long time now I haven’t wanted much else.
I apologize for this. I just feel that deleting it would be twice as ridiculous.
I feel weak and lost and disgusting and I’m afraid I’ve fallen to the point where I can no longer be saved. This isn’t apathy so much as it is fatigue. I’m just... fed up. I’m tired of what I have to face every day. I’m tired of fighting and not feeling like I’m doing enough and being told that I’m an entitled selfish asshole. I’m tired and I’m devastatingly sad and I want to sleep.


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


@11:59 PM



there was another reset on thursday night.
i dont think anyone said anything about it.

i dont want to talk about it

it is both the saddest thing i've ever seen
and
something i cannot allow myself to feel anything about
something this apathy is trying to make me not care for

but i do, i do care, i miss everyone so much it aches,

genesis showed up today.
i dont know how. he was tired and weak and dazed and could barely walk. but he showed up. like someone just released from the hospital after having been in a coma for too long.
i just
i shocked myself. when he appeared. looking so exhausted and fragile and breakably tired and he was still smiling. just barely, but it was such a bright thing. like he always was. no matter what people said about him. or tried to turn him into.
when he showed up with that weak lopsided grin i felt my heart crack and my eyes flood. i couldnt bear the rush. i wanted to break into sobs right there, i wanted to wrap him in my arms and never let him go, i wanted to just hold him in the sunlight there, my best friend, i didn't want anything else. at all.
but the apathy punched it down. the apathy kicked it down. dont cry, it said, you're in public, that's not acceptable behavior
apathy couldnt do a thing about this though
i gave him my arm and let him lean on me as we walked together. i talked to him as i always do. i loved him more than anyone ever told me i didn't or tried to tell me i did differently. i didn't care. i dont want to care about those lies anymore.

xenophon was crying
i only know because the undergrounders saw and remember and garrison has the photographs
she was walking through a foggy gray rainy city, there was nothing but quiet empty cold streets and muffling cloudbanks,
she was sobbing like a lost child.
shrieking with sorrow
she missed her fathers

and i still hate myself for where i'm at

these reset attempts keep happening

i love her
i love that little girl, or whatever she chooses to identify as at the time
i love that tiny violet creature so much.
even if i dont understand why she calls me "dad"
she said something today
or someone did
but i never realized it before
the bloodline continues.
even if "i" didn't exist in 2011
someone did
and their blood is in my veins
and we are still in the same body
and we can't scrub out the past from the fabric of existence
we can't bleach all our memories into oblivion
we can't reset everything like "we" wish we could
if she calls me her father
it is because "i" was, once
but
even more importantly
it is because
regardless of whether or not i hold any literal relation to her anymore
that's how she sees me.
as a protector.
as a guide.
as a guardian and mentor and caretaker.
as a father.
and so
i
i can be that for her, if that's what she needs

i do love her
why is that so hard to say
who put that fear there
who the hell put that fear there


what is this entry


i've never seen lynne cry like that
ever
i don't think i'll ever forget it

what happened to josephina, when did he get so jaded



i've made up my mind
no matter how scared i am
no matter how convinced some of us may be that we "don't need it"
no matter how furiously jewel tries to be 100% optimistic
we are going to the inpatient facility
whenever they have a room for us.
i don't care
yeah i'm petrified but
look at it this way.
while we're there, we can't run from this
we can't run from us
maybe we need that
maybe something very good will come from that

maybe we'll finally accept the hope that we're "not something horribly, intrinsically evil"
i hate that
i don't like that word but i despise that thought program
whoever told us we were evil just for living
there used to be so much love up here
then you told us that was incorrect, too
"you have to love people THIS way"
that's a lie
that's a LIE

and god knows i miss her more than anything in the world right now
and my heart is trying to shut off
and my mind is trying to hate her
and

she tried just as hard as i did
and fell just as hard as i did
and bled just as much as i did
we did
all of us
but
we
we tried too hard and we lost our sight and we fell too far.
we tried too hard to be perfect
and we forgot how to be good.

well now we're remembering

but i'm so scared
they keep saying, "wear off your edges"
"beat your swords into plowshares"
we were so ironically hellbent on being "pure and holy"
that we hit that horrid point so many other hyperpacifists have hit
and we stopped caring how much hell we went through
because "happiness is the only acceptable emotion"
and "you must endure all things"
but

but god listen i don't want to "go to hell" but
we are IN hell when we let this happen to us

is it wrong to fight?
is it wrong to fight back?
is it wrong to stand up and bare our teeth and say NO?
is it wrong to say no?

the retributors were untouched this time.
they were given the right to carry this through when central couldn't
they never lost their edges all the way
but they are too sharp sometimes
they are so brokenhearted and bitter, they become brutal
they become hatefully violent
because they are so desperate to get rid of the pain
of the filth and terror and confusion and apathy
they are willing to tear it to bloody shreds
if that will bring peace and healing

and the problem is,
that might be what we need

theyy keep saying "god is sublime" and reminding me of destroyer deities but

but

god

just

i can't do this.

i miss everyone.
i miss our darker sides.
i miss having a moon instead of just the scorching sun.
i miss being flawed in a way that made me soft
i hate trying to be perfect
i hate trying to be normal
god just stop me
stop this
make me imperfect
make me abnormal
restore my brokenness to me
put me back into pieces
my fractures were the lines that led me to you
to everything that was ever soft and bright
before they told me "no
THIS is what you need to be like"

i never wanted to be like that
but somewhere along the line
i became too afraid to protest anymore
they beat the rebellion out of me
they scared the noncomformity out of me

i
i am so tired
i am so sad
i am so sad because i still love people
i still love EVERYTHING
everything
everyone
inside and out
it's my biggest weakness
and my biggest flaw.
and it is my biggest blessing.
my saving grace.

i love everything.
i don't lose hope.
and that's why i'm so unbearably sad right now.

i don't want to hurt anything
so i don't fight back
but then i'm the one who ends up with a broken nose
and bloodied legs
and the shakes for days.

i don't want to
i don't
i'm so afraid of screwing up
of doing something wrong
or ignorantly harmful
that i collapse under the weight of it
and end up making even bigger mistakes
because that dread of moral filthiness makes me feel i am "unsaveable"
and deserve nothing better
but that's nonsense
i know it's nonsense
i wouldn't say that about ANYONE on this entire planet
so why does it apply to me?
tell me
you demon doubts and fears
TELL ME
WHY DO YOU INSIST I AM THE ONLY BLACK CLOUD ON THIS EARTH
WHY


thunderstorms
i lost my lightning
i lost my rain
i lost my shadows
god help me i just
i miss people
is that wrong?
was it really so wrong to love them in the first place?
if love is what killed them
if love is what broke everything
if my daring to feel genuine affection for people is what sent them to hell

what do i do
what do i do
do i talk to a priest
do i talk to the psychologist
what do i do.
i am so tired.
i am so sad.



and then a song just comes up on shuffle,
"i know there's gonna be good times"

well okay
but please reassure me a little more
define "good."
will we bleed afterward?
will the guilt devour us?
will we be showed how wrong we were?

see that's my fear
i can't seem to enjoy life without guilt
how do i get over that?

i can't get rid of the guilt
the fear, the pain, the terror of hurting someone
because i'm so gut-deep damaged by programming that i can't see straight

i want to heal myself completely
i want to heal ourself completely
and then i want to SOMEHOW be able to survive on this planet
without getting kicked in the face again by it
without getting torn apart again by it.
it takes patience
it takes self-love
it takes integrity
and it takes FIRE
it takes the ability TO SAY NO
it takes the ability to TRUST in my own feelings
good and bad
when my gut says RUN, GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE
or when someone inside says the same
i have the right
I HAVE THE RIGHT
TO RUN
WE DO.

we aren't obligated to suffer just because "it doens't hurt THAT person!"
or "THEY said it was okay!"
if something makes us sick, if something fills us with utter dread and fear and nausea at the very thought,
the therapist calls that "dread"
it's horrid, it eats your life
if we feel that about something,
we are not obligated to repeatedly force ourselves into worse and worse situations
just to "numb the dread" or "get over being so negative"
because we're still fatally convinced that "you shouldn't have a problem with ANYTHING"

the numbness is cracking, you know
logic is overruling your chalkdust burial shroud
even if we can't feel a thing
because you buried it
the brain can still think.
yes, the brain you called "evil"
because you called thoughts "unreal"
it is saving our life
it is keeping us safe and protected and pure and true
and don't demonize those words either
purity is a good thing
truth is a good thing
don't you dare spit on those ideals either
they're worth something
we're worth something
don't touch us anymore
ever.
ever.



this isn't mostly me, i'm sorry
i don't even know who i am right now
i don't know how "reformed" i am either
everything is blurry and weird and sad.
everything inside is empty


god please i just want to cry, i want to tell someone about this, somehow,
can i draw, can i do something to express this,
can i somehow express how heart-shatteringly sad i am inside,
is that wrong?
is it okay to feel sad?
or are you going to laugh at me
"how foolish! how like a foolish child!"
what, because i'm crying?
because i'm not laughing and saying "life is a game! it does not matter!"
maybe not in the big picture,
but you devils are teaching me not to mourn
you are teaching me to scoff at my own tears
you are teaching me to passively justify suffering
because you only want me to laugh.

and i am terrified
because your words still feel "right"
and that scares me so much
because,
at some point,
at several points,
we were badly damaged
we were hurt, we were scarred
and yeah,
when we die it won't mean anything i'm sure,
it'll all "fade away" and who cares how much we bled,
but
BUT
stop saying "nothing matters" when everything STILL ripples out to everything else
things DO matter in some way,
they do,
is it wrong to want to cry,
is it wrong to miss people,
is it so wrong for me to be utterly devastated over this somewhere deep down under the grave-dirt you threw on my heart?


i'm rambling now. i'm sorry.

i miss people so much
but i don't want them back
i don't want them back because i am ashamed of caring
i am ashamed of wanting their friendship
i am ashamed of wanting their company
i am ashamed of feeling love and affection towards them
i am ashamed of wanting anything.

i am utterly ashamed that i was close to people
why?
why am i crushed with hatred and guilt over the fact that i loved them at some point
and i did
i cannot deny that, i did
or did i?
that's what you evil doubts always ask me.
did you REALLY love them?
or was it all programming?
and
i don't know
i can't tell in hindsight, from this blind space
right now i can't comprehend emotion at all
so EVERYTHING looks fake
everything looks false and shallow and dumb and stupid
and the corrupt media doesn't help
the false messages we get shoved down our throats every day don't help


why am i talking about this.
i'm sorry.



i don't know what to do right now
i need to calm down and shake this negativity off, i really do

i am so tired and i do still want to die
i am so tired
life has been scary recently
i dont know
i don't feel i have a right to say that either
"other people have it so much worse!"
yes i know but
does that
am i entitled and spoiled and selfish for saying i'm still in pain and scared,
even if it looks like stupidity to someone else?
i don't know.


i need to stay off the internet i think
i try to avoid toxic stuff but it hides everywhere
the more of it gets in my head the harder it gets to think
and the uglier and filthier i feel
and the more guilt and doubt and hatred and sadness i feel.
i need to just stop
go inside instead


but central is empty right now
except for kyanos
the angel of hope.
i guess that says a lot on its own


there are so many others i should talk to
wreckage mostly
the archivist trio
jeremiah
sergei and hyakinth
maybe find some of the faceless people and talk to them.
the nice ones i mean, the good ones, like church and veil and airport

i dont know
i want to
but
the biggest obstacle is always shame.
fear.
doubt.
"that's all fake nonsense and you should be ashamed of entertaining it"

except it's not
except it's NOT fake
even if all i have to "prove" that is a legit diagnosis or three
but to hell with "proving" things to people who only believe with their eyes
i know this is real
no matter how much doubt there is
or how afraid i am of saying that
it's real
no matter how bitterly i want to cry over that
it's real.


i don't know how to cope with that right now.
i don't know how to cope with people caring about me
or me caring about other people
i shouldn't be this bitter, this sad,
this afraid, this angry, this hateful,
when people try to get close

and why am i?

i don't really hate them
i couldn't
i can't
genesis, today, i can't hate him, ever
no matter what he was pressured or programmed into doing
just like me
forgiveness is a thing, okay
you feckless floating doubts
forgiveness can happen
and SHOULD
and will
stop turning peoples mistakes into albatrosses and ankle chains
we are allowed to move on and learn and be BETTER
stop damning me for my mistakes
stop damning him for his mistakes
maybe we did fail, but we can TRY AGAIN
stop defining our entire future because of our screwups
okay
i hate myself enough for them without you telling me i am not worth anything better
i am so sick of you telling me i am worth nothing and deserve the same
stop
shut up
shut up.


i wouldn't say that about anyone else
so why the hell are you singling me out

i am so afraid
i am afraid because i know this hope is blind as a bat
and it will keep trying
even when there IS no hope
and even when it doesn't know what the heck it's looking for
or trying to prove
even if it's terrified and bleeding and screaming internally to stop, stop stop stop
it keeps trying
why
WHY


are you so heartbroken by the fact that there is evil in the world
or even just people who are lost
or misguided
even to terrible extremes
that you are more willing to sacrifice yourself in an attempt to transmute that evil
than to just reject those things?

are you that afraid of saying no?
are you that afraid that saying no means you are rejecting god? somehow?
where the hell did that come from
are you that afraid
that being opposed to anything
even something actively harmful to you
means you are being proud and sinful?
that you must "endure all things?"

but it's not even that for the most part.
i know what it is.

there was a quote once
“There is no art in turning a goddess into a witch, a virgin into a whore, but the opposite operation, to give dignity to what has been scorned, to make the degraded disireable, that calls for art or for character.”

and isn't that what we keep doing for EVERYTHING
we are so unwilling to see ANYONE as 'bad' or 'lost' that we will bleed ourselves out in an attempt to 'see the good' in them
god knows we aren't anyone's savior, what the heck are we doing
our perspective won't heal or help them
will it?
i don't know.

the very existence of evil, of suffering, of pain and its infliction, of "sin,"
is so mind-boggling and heartwrenching to us
that we are far too willing to throw ourselves into hell
if it means we can at least still shine a little while we're in there
and maybe find something "good" about the place.
therefore,
it won't be "100% bad" anymore
and therefore
that will prove that "nothing is beyond redemption"

except us, i add sarcastically.
thats what the heartless doubts say
"sacrifice yourself to prove everything else as pure and undeserving of your loathing or fear!"
"BUT you yourself will carry ALL the sin and filth and damnation!"
it's the scapegoat thing all over again
and i can't seem to let go of it
why
why

am i secretly hoping it's at least half true?
i don't know

i really don't want to hate anything
or be scared of anything
i want to be able to touch everything in the world
without being scarred by it.

it's where this eating disorder gets its power from.
the thought that some foods might be "bad for us" personally
as in, cause tons of pain, make us sick, etc.
is something we cognitively struggle with
"but it's an existing thing! how can it be "bad"?"
literally
we are too fascinated with the concept of existence
to understand the concept of suffering
we are too utterly enamored with life and all its forms
to fathom the fact that those forms can hurt each other.


god, it's so sad.
and it hurts.
and i still love people
and i still love life
and i am still full of light
and i still want to live
and there is color and music and wonder in the world
there are trees and rain and violins and bells and sunlight and baby girls
there are lullabies and fishbones and evening fog and streetlights and love letters
there are skyscrapers and chocolate chips and glass bottles and honeybees
there are kittens and blankets and computers and fiber optic cables and submarines
there are christmas lights and easter baskets and birthday cakes and valentines day kisses
there are families and friends and lovers too, there are people, alive and amazing and real,
there are heartbeats and promises and languages and hands holding each other and
there is everything.
i still want to live.
i want to live.

but i want us to live.
because
beacuse i love us.
i love us too, dearly and truly and completely and so ardently that there is no word for it, my heart is about to burst and overflow,
and i want to cry but this body doesn't understand an emotion this powerful
and it is afraid it will break if it tries to carry it.

so inside i just mourn in colors
and inside i can be
i can exist and i know who i am
and i know what we are
and i know what we are trying to do
and i am sorry
and i forgive you
and i love you


and i want to try again
with you
with all of you.


let's give this another go.
please.
i'll do my best. i'll be careful.
help me.

the world is a beautiful place and i want to share it with you
i want us to be able to live here

i'm scared but it's a funny kind of scared
i'm afraid of being unable to live up to what you bring to me
i'm scared of having to bury this again
of things getting miscommunicated or mangled
god please i don't want that happening ever again.
but we have to try

and it's 1am and i am exhausted and
i can sleep alone, it's fine, i've done it,
i'm not complaining,
except,
it's weird when you don't miss something but there's still a place in your heart where it fits,
i guess that means more than i can express right now.



the sky is blue
hope isn't dead
maybe this is a fool's journey in the end
but i'm going to wake up tomorrow and try again
no matter how difficult it may feel
i'm going to try again


...

there are people to live for
and maybe that is enough.

 

 

 

So, guess who just spent the past 6 hours in the emergency room? This guy!
Don't worry, we're not dead. We just pushed the body to the limit and it kind of collapsed on us. Last night/ this morning was pretty rough to get through as a result.
We haven't been sleeping, haven't been eating, we've been stressing ourselves out, we're still fighting hacks and now there are angry/ upset people FRONTING so we're getting switching and stuff actively for the first time in a while... lots of stress really. So the body broke down awfully and we had to go to the hospital. We're okay now. (We won't be if we don't try to at least get 2 hours of sleep or something, and eat something for heaven's sakes)

I'll write more later maybe, as of right now this is just a timestamp, and a reminder to NOT DO THAT AGAIN.


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




@ 10:53 pm



So!!! I must be a really fcking horrible person to be attracting all this stuff to me because I DONT DESERVE TO ENJOY LIFE.

1. Dying, systems are failing
2. money is tight, can't afford what i need to buy
3. have to stop hormone therapy
4. have to go to inpatient facility for a month or whatever

i have this internalizzed belief that "enjoying life is evil because "this life" is evil and if you enjoy it then you are rejecting God," what the fck WHO TAUGHT US THIS, why can't i let go of it?
i know why. it's ebcause i really am that scared of "enyjoyment" because of the "manic red" people
all my life, ALL MY LIFE "enjoylment" has been tied to hedonism and manipulation and selfish extravagance. "I enjoy life! look at me spending all the money on worthless things because i ENJOY it!!! look at me hurting other people and using them because they are helping me get what i ENJOY!!!!" FCK YOU. GO TO HELL.

i hurt so much. i am so, so so so so damn scared
i want TO DIE I WANT TO COMMIT SUICIDE RIGHT NOW BUT I HAVE NO METHODS THAT WORK
god i am so fcking tired i am sos cared i dont want to die sick in a hospital bed i wanted to die a martyr, i wanted to die a death that would atone for my life

i am so scared of looking in the mirror and seeing HER
i am sos cared of hearing this voie and hearinf HRE
all i wanted was to grow up to lok like me but now i CAN'T?
now were stuck being HER and god i dont know if i have the strength. does that make me weak, does that make me a selfish fcking damnable shithead "ego," something that doesn't really exist and so it can't be loved because it doesn't deserve love because it's NOT REAL


none of us are real no one's ever around when the body is sick there's just this damn program
what is the soul, what is life, what is a "person,"
when there's only this programmed shithead out all the time being a fcking BITCH

i want to enjoy life, i WANT TO, okay, but "enjoyment" is an automatic condemnation just in saying the word, "enjoying" anything meant i was being watched and graded on it, i was being condemned or objectified, "enjoying" something meant i was now a performance, i was now a judgment, i was now a sleaze. you cant '"enjoy" anything without it becoming a performance act
i am so sick
i just want to not be alive for a while or something i dont know

i miss headspace
i miss whatever the hell we had in the past, i dont remember
i miss

god i've been looking at memories, i've been digging through as many memories as i can possibly find, and all of a sudden i find some from salt lake and i am shocked, i am shocked, there was so much sorrow there. like the abandoned, sad, dry kind. the kind so tired the tears just get wrung out of it like dry dust.

oh god i reall am evil
i really am horrible
look at al this talk all i'm doing is sowing seeds of unease and unhealth i am so so so so goddamn sorry


i won't talk like this anymoer. i think im just going to not go online for a while not update here.
i dont know how to 'be happy' when people are expecting me to identify me with pain and suffering,
i dont want any more pain and suffeirngn, please god whatever i am doing wrong here help me,HELP ME I wdont want to die like this, not liek that please

im sorry. i am sorry for every bad thing i ever said against anyone.
some spiritual paths i yelled at and i am sorry. i am not mad at you i do not hate you. i only got upset because i am so self-doubting, i felt that if i could not "perfectly fit" YOUR path, then i was flawed and wrong, so in desperateion i tried to find 'flaws' in your path to show that i WASN'T all-evil and utterly corrupt. that's not how it works. i have my own path, they said, and it's okay, they said, it's okay for me to be different. why is that so hard for me to accept. why do i feel such suffocating pressure to "conform" and "be normal."
is it this family, saying "i'm just begging god to make you normal again" acting like me being "like i was as a kid" will make me 100% happy and healthy and pure, i dont' know, will it? i dont know who we were then. but the guilt is crushing, i'm 'different," that upsets the family, i am crushing myself, i am telling myself I HAVE no "self" because that is "wrong," it is going agaisnt the people that love me, how dare you upset them....
that can't be how this works.

i am so sorry if i ever said unkind things against anyone or anytihng.i hereby take them all back, i will bear that poison and transmute it as reparation if i can, i am so sorry, please forgive me. i honestly do not hate anyone. i love everyone. even myself. but the "identity" this body has cannot love, it's the sort of thing thehy talk about, "born out of separation," it was born from not-love so it can't learn love or it won't exist. i dont know it sounds utterly proud and primping and that makes mer eally really really sick.
all i know is that i really do love myself BUT during the day i get stepped over? and this "non loving program" steps in and says NO, you CANOT love yourself because your love is "NOT NORMAL" and thereofre NOT ALLOWED. so abuse happens and self-torture happens to force us to be "normal" and god why, why can't we let go of this. why haven't we let go of this yet. why do we feel this shouldn't be let go of. what needs to be healed here.

we dont belong in this world but god it is so so so so sos oso goddamn scary to have things like this happening
i didnt realize we were hurting ourself THAT BAD but here we are, it's right there on paper
god i am so SAD. i want to just wail in despair, scream in hopeless sorrow, it's terrible. i am so sad. i have mourning to do for eyars and i don't know how, because "mourning is stupid, there's no reason to mourn, you didn't lose anything!" so what do i do with this awful choking navy blue emotion, then, what do i do with it, bury it again? turn it off?

i want to throw up from anxiety but i can't, all the vomiting is just contributing to this, i have to just keep it down


i've been fcking up this life so bad and i am so sorry.
i never felt i was "worth anything" and i am sorry i messed it up.
i KNEW i was worth SO MUCH but i felt that was blasphemously proud, i buried it.
i rejected love and i shut down my own love because that was "distasteful" and "licentious"
it's awful. i am so sorry.

i really dont know what to do.



lindy is dead, that was our new ipod, she died this morning. drowned. i am so sorry i wasn't more careful, i couldn't find her.
stupid things like that make me chokingly sad. little stupid ignorances on my part. like hitting the piano. it's this utterly innocent thing, created only to carry joy. and i hit it. and i let it die. and i was selfish and ignorant and lazy. and something else paid the price.

i am so scared of what i will have to pay.

i don't want to be this person anymore. god i DON'T WANT TO BE THIS PERSON ANYMORE

how did the other people scratch the system, how did the other resets happen, god PLEASE let me kill this timeline PLEASE, let a new host step up and please let things be good again, our old entries here were so bright, i don' t remember a damn thing from the past several years, i don't know, i am so fcking sad, god i am so sad, i'm so alone, i'm so damn lonely, i feel utterly abandoned and worthless,
"god" doesnt abandon you but the "god" that keeps answering my prayers is an angry thing that scares me
i am so fcking tired
i am so scared.

there's no reason to be scared.
and no. there's not. death is death. i KNOW its okay afterwards.
the pain of getting to death is scary. but its not forever. AND THIS BODY IS NOT YOU. so take heart in that at least.
it's not. it's not, it's not, it's NOT and it NEVER WAS. she will NEVER be you and she will NEVER kill you and take your place.

but there's an old scared broken part of us that says "i am scared of death, because they told me, when i die i am going to hell."
old beliefs like that ou just have to DROP, there's nothing you can do to "transmute" them, they're just junk.
but. the childhood fear is so loud.
"what if i AM really that bad?? what if i AM going to hell?? shouldn't i be better then?"
but everyone, EVERYONE we know that we ask, family and townsfolk and whatever, ALL OF THEM say that we are "wonderful." that we are an "incredibly kind and sweet person." that they cannot imagine why in the world we think we are bad.
i
i cant see that good? i dont remember it? im not sure what "counts as" good? i keep feeling i need to sacrifice, i need to give all my money away, i need to keep fasting and praying, i need to give away all my possessions, is that really the ideal, the "only way," being so ascetic?
that's why i'm scared. part of me is CONVINCED that unless I am living at the absolute bottom of my means, being strict and harsh with self-discipline and allowing NO "enjoyment,"

that is NOT TRUE

i am going to go bury myself in dream world and positive messages. mark my words. there is STILL HOPE, there is ALWAYS HOPE,
it's not dead, it will never die,
i'm going to try very hard to just be happy and ENJOY LIFE genuinely for a bit before i go to sleep. life is full of beauty and wonder and there is nothing wrong with taking joy in experiencing that.

so all you floating voices go away and leave me alone, i am not going to give up, even if things are very confusing right now, i will not give up

 

 

 

 

God I am in so much pain.

I'm Jemma. I'm still getting used to being "my own person," but... it makes me strangely happy. There's a glitter of light down in my indigo chest that glows when I'm like this. I'm happy. I'm alive. It's weird but... it's nice.
Chocoloco is here too. He's always with me.

I'm updating I guess because no one else got called out. I'm not sure why I'm here.

I... these people, they say they're the Archivists? want me to write about what happened today. But now that they're telling me what it is I don't really know if I want to.
Choco says write it... why? Because you have to. For the good of the System, I guess, although it's no good. Here goes.

There was a hack this afternoon. Garrison (the teal-haired Archivist) says it was one of the people who's going through the Leagueworlds


Who the heck is going through the bleeding Leagueworlds.


Someone. We don't know.
There's an infection spreading. This "obligation" is riding the wave of numbness the current social fronters have, the ones who exist "only to please" and who therefore do not have a solid identity of their own, or a sense of self-preservation, or health or joy.

They're literally killing us is what you're saying.

Essentially, yes. Pardon me, but do you want to do a Xanga?

Heck yeah, but-- no, never mind. Whoever's in the body is too bloody tired. One of the sad people.


I'm too tired to type for anyone. my head hurts and i'm sick scared quiet and hello, why am i out here
the body is sick? i'm not sure how, it's very hot and it hurts sick in a lot of places. the feelings are hard to find but they are awful to feel.

It's protecting Overload from them. All of us, maybe.

The numbness doesn't do a bloody thing. Numbness doesn't do anything but make us not care about the pain. And by 'us' I mean the devils who have been staging as us for the past few months now.




Everything hurts and I am getting very scared, the body shouldn't be this sick al the time, what is happening

good night we need to stop this and go back to ourselves we're getting distracted sorry

 

 

 

 

 

Short update for tonight, for now at least.

I feel kind of bad; I haven't been updating here much lately but life's been pretty nice. Yes it has tricky days, but we deal. We're dealing far better than we used to now.

I've noticed that I never, ever go to bed sad or angry or upset. It just doesn't happen. Even if the day was miserable and rough, by the time I lie down for the night, I'm completely peaceful and okay.
I do have to credit CZ for half of it though. There was some day last week where someone must have eaten caffeine or the like, because we were awake until 3AM or so and the body was shaky, etc. I was trying to relax but it was kind of scary. Nevertheless, as he always does in those situations, CZ just told me to hold him. That's it. So I did. I swear he radiates tranquility, it's amazing. So within ten minutes the body was asleep. I have no idea how he manages to always induce that much peace, that fast, but he does. So I must thank him for that.

The body has had this mad craving for cherries lately. Not sure why. Possibly for melatonin boosts, who knows.
There was a spiritual expo yesterday though, and we went to a color-reading woman and we picked "cherry" as one of the colors. She said its message was, "live an extraordinary life." Get out there and be something special. I smiled at that; that is basically the loudest message we've been getting lately, from anywhere. So yes, cherries.
(Jay also found a "safe space" for himself/anyone lately; it's an old childhood Dream World-esque place, a row of cherry trees on a hill in the spring. It's really, really lovely, it's pink and green and feels like early spring mornings and it feels so safe and protective. So we're going to let that be anyone and everyone's safe space if they need it inside.)
The other colors we were resonating with at that time were Indigo, Green, and Rainbow. Indigo was for "clearer sight," in terms of discernment and wisdom really-- she mentioned seeing things in black & white, or in similar skewed ways, which I realized was actually a problem as of late when our personal vibration gets too wonky. Rainbow was for "connecting with all of Creation" or the like; her suggestion was to go outside and really just bond with nature. I laughed and said we lived in the woods, and it's been calling us to do that lately anyway. Green was actually "rejuvenate yourself" or something? I forget the exact words, but it was healing, in a bright "rest and recharge" sense. Not a sleepy sense, more of a "battery charging" sense, with a bright green sunlit-leaf current through it. That was even more applicable than the cherries! Not only has that bright sort of green been feeling very close lately (especially with spring blooming in, and with Cel hopping about), but we have also been profoundly exhausted lately as well, in a burned-out or drained-empty sense. We're still running, we're still happy and bright, but damn it we're tired! It's hard to explain. Like our bones are tired. The ground-stone in us needs a rest. We're getting scrubbed down to the dust, the flat earth, we need to regroup and fill things up with good soil again so the trees can start growing. Sorry, it's 2AM and I am in an odd sort of pseudo-poet mode so I'm just letting this flow like it is.
But she said we were very intelligent and articulate too, we chatted for a while about colors and things, I (we) always hit it off with the people at these expos. Also she asked "if we had a table." AGAIN! I said we didn't have one, but that we were seriously considering it. She said we should. So... we ARE. Best case scenario, we'll have one in November, for the local autumn expo. We'll talk more about that in a bit, or tomorrow if it gets too late... we're very confident and humble and hopeful and happy about the prospect of it. So that's a long-term work effort too.

Our mother had us see this reiki guy who we were getting iffy vibes from, but I think it was just his methods? He had no "bad" feeling about him. The mom was stuck in the past kind of with what she was upset about; she thought we were still acting like we did in 2010 and we were afraid that counted as "lying" to this healer, he would get the wrong idea, wouldn't be helping our actual problems.
But it helped, still. He did a quick exorcism to get rid of the floating voices and I FELT a lot of heaviness getting pulled out. That felt amazing really.
Then he did a sort of soul-to-soul talking thing, we all listened, to help with the "eating disorder" bit and also the "cutting," both at the request of the mother. Neither were actively relevant; however, there was one intention that was not lost. "Become the child of God you were meant to be." Essentially the vibe of that statement is what stuck. "Stop thinking you are less than a beloved creation of the Most High." That's the message we are holding to and that is what will help. Julie got the most from that; she fronted for a minute during the healing so she's the one with the memory of it actually.
The actual reiki was interesting too. We had to lie down and he was doing all this spinny/wavy stuff with his hands. But the energy from his hands felt gold, like a thin wavy pretty gold, like champagne or christmas ribbon. Gold with a silver softness to it, not the heavy punch solid gold. It was nice. I'm not sure what he did, other than fixing up energy centers (thank youu) and helping clear out blocks, but it helped. We felt really really nice for the rest of the evening, and a LOT lighter and happier today. So something worked! We're very glad and thankful for him.
Also he SEEMS to have fixed our ankle. It sure feels like it; the stiffness it's chronically had since 2012 was GONE today. That's seriously awesome.

EVERYONE at the expo got our projected gender correct. Possibly thank Sherlock; we got his glasses back (our prescription changed and now we've got that extra long-distance clarity boost again) and he decided we looked "rather handsome" wearing them so he gave us permission (and some happy but slightly self-conscious encouragement) to wear them to the expo. They masculinize our face a lot so hey.
The best part, though, is that when we saw that healer guy? The mother kept referring to us as "she," or as a female, etc. But no matter what she said, the healer kept calling us "he," and a boy. That was really notable, especially from a healer person, really... he didn't change what he was saying no matter what the mother even said! So that felt really nice, and reassuring.

The aura lady was there. She recognized us, which was nice, we haven't seen her in almost 2 years. Our aura yesterday was all rich indigo, with a big white-pink spot to our right. I was surprised it looked so nice as we had been feeling quite 'off' recently.
She told us a few things that we wrote down... she reminded us to "go fly a kite" this summer, because that's apparently a very "in the moment" thing, and it encourages childlike fun. Genesis is totally down with the idea so we're going to have to do it. It sounds lovely actually.
She did point that out too, that's the message the pink in our aura said-- smile more, like a child, be more childlike and happy. I smiled and said that was a big emphatic message in our life lately (especially with Steven Universe; Rose Quartz is already a very dear character to us). She also said to keep in mind that animals could give that same message too, with living in the moment. I was hesitant at first; we've never felt any large connection to the animal kingdom in our lives, except to bats and unicorns and dragons and things. Nothing more 'common.' Javier's the first of us all to feel a strong affectionate affinity with animals. But then the aura lady told us a story, of a time she was at a friend's house and that person was shouting at their dog for being disobedient... the dog lay down on the rug with its head on its paws and just stared at the aura lady for 10 minutes or so. Then it got up and went over to its master and just started licking her face, wagging its tail, totally happy. But she was still mad and was pushing the dog away. That didn't matter, the aura lady said-- the dog still loved her totally. It forgave her completely, for shouting at it so. And that was a really nice lesson for us.
The other two things she said... first, "perfection isn't always a good thing." That's an ancient issue! The "flawless" definition of "perfect" is impossible and leads to plague-calcification, really. It's dangerous. I made a mental note that "perfection," if it truly exists in any way, exists in a transcendent sense-- and it embraces flaws and mistakes and other "imperfect" things as pieces in the puzzle still, however roughly shapen. It's hard to wrap a "mind" around but the heart understands that.
Last thing she said, we mentioned that we wrote (she asked us if we did creative work and we said yes, in many mediums) and said we wrote both stories and journals. She asked for a link to our "blog" but I abashedly said it was "kind of messy;" we used it as a way of sharing ALL our lessons and experiences for the sake of helping others in similar situations, as a form of shadow-work and honesty. So it was a little embarrassing, when the "bad" or "messy" entries happen. To that, she then said, "the mess is what carries the message." Then she smiled, said that just came to her, and insisted I write it down. So there it is!
I like that though. It felt very significant, and profoundly validating (if that's the right word? more like, we're not "wrong" in doing this this way. it still can be utilized for great good if we intend it as such, no matter how messy it may appear).

What else happened at the expo. Oh, there were gemstones and rocks as always. There were amber pieces that felt comforting but none were really talking. My "guides" (mostly Mr. Sandman; he's the only one I can see/hear well, and the only one I explicitly trust) were telling me not to feel obligated to buy any anyway; I didn't need to, and I needed the money for other things (turned out to be that color reading actually). But of course I still had to look at the Mookaite Jasper and the Malachite, because I'm a strangely sentimental sillyhead. There was a jasper heart that the mother picked up almost instantly after we went looking for jasper, and she said "I don't know why but this one wants to come home with me. I don't know who it's for. Maybe it's for you!" I had to smile because dang that stone had such a nice feeling to it, but it still felt neutral. Like it was benevolent but it didn't need to work with us specifically. The mom ended up keeping it for herself, which is totally fine. But then there was this one piece of malachite which I swear was the loudest darn thing. It made me nervous though; we held it with the jasper heart for a while and WHOA did that get heavy. Not weight-wise, but energy-wise; some stones just feel big and those two were draining me out. I got overwhelmed and fatigued and had to put them down. But then the malachite felt sad? Oddly it felt like it "missed us" and wanted us to pick it up again. But there was a "clingy" edge to that feeling which made me kind of "ehh," unsure. I don't like working with a lot of stones because a lot of them feel that way to us... either demanding and loud, or clingy with abandonment issues. I don't know why?? I didn't think stones were capable of feeling that way?? Maybe it's outside residue... I'll have to clean them more. But yeah. We only have a few stones... some black and blue Kyanite (which is very agreeable and quiet), a bunch of tumbled clear quartz, some rose quartz pieces, and a little glass bottle of gold flakes. That's the nightstand crew, haha. Everything else ended up being put back into the earth, or in our brother's room. Gotta be careful with vibes. Sometimes they just don't feel good for us anymore no matter how much cleansing we do so we have to release them. They get antsy and want to go, so there they go.

But about the malachite/jasper, we need to talk about Steven Universe, but those two individuals had the most pull on us lately. I can't tell you totally why yet... we need to rewatch the finale first. But Jasper struck us of course because she's built big and muscular, with a rougher voice, and really that sort of vibe just reminds me of Laurie. So there's instant weakness, haha. But Malachite, geez I have no idea, there's this weird sort of intuitive draw to her in us, something green and delicate but powerful, a solid force but clear like glass... why the heck are we getting this vibe from her, I keep wondering, Jay too. We figured out a few things: one, she's a fusion of Jasper (big, strong, rough Gem, imposing and kind of brutal) and Lapis Lazuli (slender, small, pretty Gem, but with understated power), which instantly makes Malachite a very compelling dichotomy. Plus her FEET!! She has HANDS for feet which is GORGEOUS in an odd way; the fact that she has four hands to walk on gives such an extra boost of groundedness, of total stability and solidness. It's the grip of the hands, the dexterity and expression in them, instead of flat feet. It feels incredibly secure, especially with her having a "centaur" top half as well, with two free arms. Then her face and hair-- FOUR EYES good lord it's pretty. Her face is a combo of Lapis' soft edges and pointed "sophistication," that sort of feminine clear vibe, and Jasper's fierce smile. But her teeth are still pointy and her nose is a gem so there is this unusual delicacy to her face, despite it being so fierce. And her hairrrrr. It's so nice and fluffy. But it's floaty, in five points, which is an aesthetic we really like (the whole "halo" sort of similarity) I just wanted to mention. I'm just trying to list reasons why we like her. (on that note i must mention her voice it's SO NICE ;__; Dissonant or not, the blending of Lapis' higher pitch and Jasper's oddly soft pronunciations is just agh. so nice.)
Most of all though were those chains. Especially the chest-cross one. It hit me all at once while watching the clip before; that "heavy solid physical touch" that the chains give, tight and bound and not dragging, that's the sort of impersonal body contact we used to almost revere as a child. You know how we treated wounds and blood and injury and tears as sacred? Same thing with being chained up, especially with arms; it's a chest-opening thing and it's almost an obligatorily self-opening action as well? We have a deep, important significance given to that sort of vulnerability, in all contexts, but (again) as a child we always treasured that more "brutal" edge to it. Kind of why we like Jasper, too, probably. But THAT is for another day, hoo boy, it is way too late to start thinking about her on top of this.
But it's ridiculous; just the way Malachite is drawn/ presented is this perfect aesthetic vibe for us. Yeah, we think a lot about this sort of thing. But it WORKS. You feel meaning, you look for that meaning, you find it. Everything can carry a message. She does! So yes Malachite is bizarrely pretty and also held rather dear to us right now for that smattering of unusual personally resonant reasons. So please forgive the rambling, I've just been wanting to put that into words. We adore this show so much, we want to talk about it.
(Personal inside joke right now. Lapis is similar to CZ and Jasper is similar to Laurie, therefore Malachite is this theoretical fusion of sheer awesome and we're all giggling about it.)

I had a dream three days ago about an elevator, we were in it with two guys and then the cable snapped and it fell to the bottom of the shaft, which was like 10 stories underground at least. But we weren't scared, and somehow we got out of it and we were okay. It's the first dream we've remembered in weeks.
This morning we woke up by ourselves, our dream had something to do with the father going on vacation, and the brothers' birthday party. I remember there were apple chips with cheese on the table (like potato chips. I thought it was bizarre but they actually tasted good), and in the dad's room there was a suitcase or something in a shelf, and next to it was a small jar of salt but it was also half-full of black beetles, alive and swarming. Bugs on top, salt on the bottom, black/white split. That detail stood out the most. Just mentioning that too.
Our dreams lately have had that odd sort of "hospital hallway" or "old city building" vibe, for the most part. It's not a bad vibe at all; it's actually rather comforting. It's just unusual, as it's a "grounded" sort of environment to nevertheless "real" dreams (sometimes we get "earthy" dreams with no magic, but these dreams are obviously "otherwordly" and they have a hidden sparkle, it's just buried in all that architecture). We're used to very colorful, sprawling, lucid strange environments, so having that exact same feeling "boxed in" is odd but nice. I'm glad we're tapping back into that again.

The body's kind of sick right now? Not bad sick, just eating sick. We're super sensitive to a lot of foods and today we tried coconut again and nope, it hurts like hell still. We're not good with oils. So we won't do that again if we can help it (our diet is dangerously limited sometimes so we have to bend rules every once in a while even if it makes us ill; trying to find a better option currently).
But like I said. We're okay. We feel cruddy but our soul isn't dirty. That's what we keep having to remember.

Tomorrow is therapy, I apologize profusely as we keep forgetting (?) to write about it. I think a lot of it is still residual "shame," really. Like, "you can't have this inner joy and wonder because it's wrong." No idea why that's still a haunting phrase. Probably due to the hackers and all the stuff that happened in 2012, especially the early half of the year. No clue, I'm guessing with dates really.
But there's a lot we want to write about still. Good things. We still want to focus on that. No time tonight for more, it's too late, we're exhausted.

See you soon. Well wishes to all of you, and light.

 

 

 

God help me I DON'T WANT TO BE SICK ANYMORE.

The mother keeps saying "I'm sick of all these medical bills" but when I tell her I'll just stop therapy she says "no, you need to go, I'm not going to put up with this." She's tired and angry. I remember her telling old therapists, "do you see what I have to deal with? I can't handle this!" The guilt and shame and self-loathing are extreme. I don't want to be sick.
The grandfather is saying, "is therapy even going to help you?" I said I don't know, I hope so, but I was determined NOT to need it, to be strong enough not to care. But I was still struggling with dissociation, and things like that. Said it was making me scared to drive lately, not knowing what year it was, let alone where I was. He replies, "You're going to need a nurse 24/7 for the rest of your life, if you're going to be like this." And I know he cares, they all care. But it hurts, I hate myself, for being "ill." I don't WANT to be a burden on the world anymore, or on myself.

I DON'T WANT TO BE SICK ANYMORE!!!!!!


Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can.


Am I "sick?" Is this all "fake?"
The therapist gave us a xanga session for homework. She did. She specifically wanted us to talk to each other before today. Laurie was ecstatic, people were planning topics, but I secretly stood off to the side, and I said no. I said no. NO.
I DON'T WANT TO TALK BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THIS TO BE REAL OKAY????


God what do I do. What do I even do.
We keep reading books, spiritual books, research books. Jewel's doing a lot of Dream World work lately so she can draw things, which is amazing, the instant she starts to work progress just happens, instantly. Every single day it grows more, which is good, because when this stupid trauma happened in 2003 or so the story got put on hold. Not so anymore.
But there's the thing, that stupid "trauma," in the "old days" with Julie and the first teenage Jewel, and guess what? WE CHOPPED OUT THAT TIMELINE. IT'S GONE. WHAT DO YOU THINK ALL THE RESETS WERE FOR.
Delete the trauma, delete it ALL, right?? Then you never have to worry about this STUPIDITY anymore!!

Except that's not what the book said. Except when we read that line in the book, we couldn't help it, our eyes watered up and we pointed to the page and we exclaimed "that's our mission!" and it felt true. terrible but true.
"When a soul chooses to participate consciously in more inclusive levels of interaction, it becomes capable of participating directly in the liberation of its family, or its group, or its community, or its nation from the negatives that are present and active at those levels. It also runs the risk of contamination by those negatives. In other words, a soul that seeks to bring a higher quality of consciousness to a more inclusive level of human interaction runs the risk of being contaminated by the fear, or the anger, or the selfishness of that level. Great souls... run the risk of great contamination. At the level of soul contact, a great soul deals not only with its own fear, its personal fear, but it also takes on the evolution of the collective fear of the species. The weight of that is where a great soul risks contamination on a great level, but its possibility of releasing the fear from the collective consciousness of the species becomes also possible."
I don't consider us a "great soul" like the great Teachers, heavens no, we're too banged-up for that, we're too troubled. Maybe in time we can heal ourselves to such a point, but who knows. All I know is that in reading that paragraph, I felt a direct reflection of whatever it is we are going through. "Yes, that is exactly what we're doing and experiencing!" It was a recognition.

But God if that's what we're doing, If THAT'S why I'm/we're SICK-- if that's why I have the guts to even admit there's a "we"-- if we took on this trauma to heal the collective fear and pain tied to this sort of experience, on however small a level... then please, GUIDE US.
You're already helping us, we know. But damn it it's scary. And... I keep rejecting help. I keep getting... contaminated.
It's an ugly word. But it's true.
Help us with that. Please. Help us with that. Help us get rid of the contamination. If I have any prayer at all, that is it. That is it.

The daemons help in their own way. So do the floating voices, weird as that is. So do the darker Jewel Monsters that tag along. Problem is, a lot of them-- most of them-- work through the old childhood thing of "learn through fear and doubt and pain."
Isn't there another way? Please, help us open our mind(s) enough to see another way. Please.
We must hold to light. We must hold to light.
And there's so much of it in here, that's why I'm frustrated and heartbroken, because there's SO much LIGHT in here, but that damn contamination, that damn Tar, that damn Plague...
Damning anything won't help anyone though.


god I don't know. I'm sorry. I need to get ready for therapy, I have to leave early, I can't type anymore here now.
Sorry everyone for being a mess. Maybe I'm a contaminant.
But I want to help. I sincerely want to help. I'm scared but I don't want to sabotage this anymore and I DON'T WANT US TO BE SICK ANYMORE.
If there's a way for US to be healthy... if there's...
...

If there's a way for me to be a part of us,
if there's a way for us to exist without trauma, at all,
let it be.


Jewel sees us in third-person. She sees us bright and colorful and destined for liberation, already redeemed in her timeless sight, never lost or broken at all, just on the road forwards...
She sees us as something complete and good, somehow.

...Other people do too. Somehow. Somehow. They've made me aware of that.
There are people who know our System and I know they're reading this and... thank you?
It sounds ridiculous and whiny but it's all I can say. It's the only thing that crackles out in words.
I can't really see that. I'm stuck in this bad state, currently. I want a different "anchor." But seeing there's still something good in here helps.


I need to stop typing. I'm making myself sick. No wonder the other people in here are suffering. I feel sick, to be around. My vibration is pretty low with all this depression and rage. No wonder people don't like me being out. Problem is I'm stubborn, I don't let other people be around, because I don't want there to be "other people," because I'm scared of not existing.... even though I don't want to exist anyway... it's stupid.
Maybe I'll talk about this with the therapist today.

Goodbye, that's it for me typing right now.

 

 

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@ 01:21 am

 

 

So, LYNNE FRONTED IN THERAPY TODAY and it was VERY SIGNIFICANT ACTUALLY.

She stuck around for a while, at least five solid minutes. Centralites don't typically front at ALL, let alone for that long without a Social pushing them out, or them being called back Upstairs.
In the process, she realized something that I was reflecting on the whole drive home.

The people inside, those whose roles are almost exclusively for our inner world... are somewhat detached from the physical body as a whole, to the point where they might not understand exactly what's happening with it.
The therapist was asking us if we felt anything while reading this entry, as she knows many of us struggle with understanding/feeling emotions. And there was emotion welling up, at that last paragraph... there was a tangible heartache in the chest, something real and strong and sad. But there was a glass wall between it and the body.
We realized that the "AP" is still a thing, albeit a thing that is somewhat different than we previously thought. It operates almost like a "conglomerate;" it is not a bundle of programming, but it is not a person either. Instead it works like an "empty entity" that takes simultaneous influence from all of us inside, all at once. It's tricky to put into words. But, when faced with that question, it said no-- no, it did not personally feel any emotions, BUT "there were still emotions being felt." It explained that it itself neither felt nor understood emotion. HOWEVER it was clearly aware that inside, other alters were feeling emotion, and there was also that original author's emotional residue. So that emotional feeling existed within, and the AP was aware of it... but it was like it was behind a pane of glass. Recognition, observance, knowledge was there... but no understanding, not personally so. No empathy, not personally so. No feeling. Does that make sense?
Laurie must have tried to front for a minute. There's vague data of her shifting in the chair and thinking, somewhat boggled, "the body is too small for me." But then she was gone, leaving an oddly shaken aura in her wake.
And then... Lynne came out. She said she had come out to spare Laurie the trouble-- "she's secretly the most emotional of all of us, I think." She explained that Laurie had seen more of the downstairs troubles firsthand than anyone else in Central, had worked with the Cores closely enough to understand their pain, to really be able to empathize with that entry's author, to the point of pained tears and anger.
And then Lynne paused, saying... "I can sympathize, but I can't empathize. And that makes me really uncomfortable."
She sat there for a minute, feeling her overlay-- the long curly hair, the difference in her eyes, the difference in her form-- to keep any Socials from pushing her out. I don't recall exactly what she said next, but the sentiment is clear. She wasn't used to this.
It's so important. It's so important, and I cannot BELIEVE we didn't quite grasp this before.
Inside, we've been "slacking off" because most of us DON'T GET IT. We DON'T understand what the Socials and other Downstairs voices are going through. Most Centralites have NEVER eaten, or spoken to the family, or been sick, or felt retribution, or been in the presence of a hacking influence. Most people inside don't even know what it's like to be IN a physical body, let alone a physical life.
Here we are wondering why we haven't been able to help, why the lower-level alters are rejecting us, why we're so confused and at a loss as to how to progress... and that is why.
We always used to wonder at how other Systems functioned, when they were "out" all the time. That was alien to us. Our life... our situation didn't allow it.
But that's new, too. Our life. Our past. Our body. Lynne noticed it too. Those of us inside... we didn't think like that. We called it the body, or the physical family... we always held it at arm's length, always at a distance, like we were watching a film. Always too detached from it.
We forgot, or maybe we never quite learned in the first place, that we are ALL SHARING THIS LIFE. We might pay that fact lip service, but that's about it. Most of us have never FELT that truth before, like Lynne chose to today, and rather courageously held on to.

It's huge. I'm having trouble putting it into words.
But again, it feels deep, like it's an ancient obstacle to our growth and healing that only now has been realized. And that makes a lot of sense, because as they say, a house divided against itself cannot stand. That still counts, if you don't realize you're even sharing a house with someone. We're on the second floor and we've somehow been virtually ignorant of the fact that there's a whole damn other world DOWNSTAIRS, too.

It's going to be interesting. I remember reading First Person Plural, how much of an impact that book had on us... how one of the biggest pieces of advice the author got was that he had to learn to trust his alters, to let them out too, to let them be a part of their shared life. The more he ignored them, the more he kept them inside and forbade them from LIVING in the "outside world" as well as the inside... all of them would suffer.
A System is a System. Ours works differently than his, in the book, but at heart it's always close enough. We need to unite our levels better. We need to start using the stairs again, so to speak. We need to bridge yet another gap, haha.



In other news.
Jewel has spent the past two nights solid researching Egyptian myths, religious virtues/vices, and Biblical prophets for the sake of Dream World. Kid goes hardcore, what can I say. But we're making lots of progress there. We're proud of her, for never giving up.
There's SO MUCH to read though, geez. It's exhausting. If there's one thing Jewel needs to learn how to do, it's take a break. The word "moderation" doesn't seem to apply to her creative ethic, and that's a problem, because then she gets burned out and projects collapse halfway through the research phase. Seriously you can't expect to understand everything in one sitting, you can't read five books in one day. It takes time. You're tied to Cel; go talk to her about that maybe. Patience, and prudence. Focus on one bit at once maybe.
There's another bit of bleedover. She's blind to us mostly. She doesn't realize, either, that her overworking the mind is affecting us, too. She reads for hours, and then leaves, and our internal environment gets so wound up from the sheer amount of input that it takes nothing short of immediate meditation to heal. Just "unplug" for a bit and let the head decompress. Problem is we haven't been giving ourselves time for that. We keep getting more and more work piled on us. The desk's a mess right now, it's not helping.
Bottom line here: slow down, Jewel! We know you want to get work done, but it's impossible to get it ALL done AT ONCE. You're in this body with us, and it needs to be taken care of. Let it sleep and rest.

...We're also thinking about the thing that our still-unnamed alter wrote, earlier-- the bit about social contamination.
It's scary, actually, to realize how accurate that is. We spent way too much time "socializing" since college, even if it was just burying ourself online in the misplaced desperate obligation to be "normal," or "good" according to God-knows-what code or creed. We got lost. Very lost.
We need to crack down and re-evaluate our ENTIRE moral code right now. We need to sit down and discuss what we value, what we protect, what we strive for, what we stand against, et cetera. And then we need to focus on that, we need to re-affirm that daily, we need to practice that truth. We need to live our Virtues, so to speak. We need to go back to being US, to being the rainbow-true System we are at heart, and have lost sight of lately. We've lost coherence, but we can heal that. So that's our job. Easter is fast approaching, but we're going to push our personal "Lent" until the body's birthday (a month later), as things have been very rocky since Ash Wednesday and we want to do better.


There's still a lot of psychological resistance in this head that is tied to the Downstairs. It's all fog, it's all steel wool.
There's so much old, internalized shame and pain, it's sabotaging a great many efforts. "We want to be good," one says. "No, we ARE good," Jay steps in. And then the damaged lower ones shout, "no we're not, we're EVIL!"
Why don't they allow healing to happen? Why can't they accept that healing, that they CAN be good, not "evil?" Why do they cling to that self-hatred, to the bitter resignation to the lie that they "can't improve?" Who told them they were irredeemable? Who crushed them under that falsehood?
We have so much virtue in here, so much light, but we also have so much vice and shadow. How much of it is "ours" and how much of it is introjected, taken on out of force, out of shame, out of fear?
Contamination. Spend too much time in the abyss and it begins to leak into your bones. Our socials, the damaged ones, spent too much time mired in what "other people" said and felt, all that bitter blood and hate... they began to forget who THEY were, outside of that, before that, after that.
Solitude is a virtue. It really is. There's nothing wrong with it. We really need to allow ourself(ves) to have it again, paradoxically.

Sorry this is mostly repetition. It just gains extra layers of meaning every time it is re-discussed, I've noticed.

It's late and we're tired and I'm tired of ignoring the sadness that comes up at this hour, the sad soft things in the shadows that want us to pay attention to them. Laurie still wants a Xanga session, and that may be the best thing for us right now. There are too many loose ends around us, too much unfinished business and ignored troubles. We really have been slacking off. That changes now, if I have anything solid to say about it.

It might snow tomorrow. Last snow of winter, maybe. You can bet I'll be outside to enjoy it, no matter what I have to fight to get there.

Good night to all of you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TRACK 73 (late april 2014?)

(Jewel) 'Scuse me everybody! This is Jewel Lightraye, obviously, because I'm listening to Justice… *sigh* You know how Jay has a splinter problem? I don't have a splinter problem, I have the problem of… my energy keeps bleeding into "Jessica," the manic red voice person. It's not-- she's not a splinter, she is… who I was fighting way back then, to exist. It was that kind of 'social persona,' not a real person-thing… yeah. Not my splinter, for the fact that I was, the one back then who was in headspace, and she was the one that kind of, was… fighting for my color, my slot, my job, et cetera. Uh, that's still a problem! So I don't have a splinter problem, I have a slot-sharing problem, Jay has a splintering problem, I don't know if that deals with Black and White energy too, but uh, it's essentially the same darn thing. Sorry, uh, I sound very distracted, I am very distracted, uh, the body is tingly because it hasn't been eating… and, uh, we don't wanna pass out so Jay is really excited he's gonna go get some figs… and, um, also I'm driving. Both ways! So I'm gonna hit stop so I don't get confused anymore-- also! I might have to grow up because of this coming-of-age thing with Dream World and headspace-- it's gonna be great, we're gonna do it, we're gonna get things fixed one way or another-- That Lay-Z Boy store has really pretty lights inside that's catching a memory of something-- either way, that's it, bye.


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


@ 06:21 pm


(last night's dream: all I remember is me and cz lying on a bed somewhere, all white room, dark but light was hazily coming in through thick shades. also there were strings of what looked like clear swarovski crystals hanging everywhere: there were little rainbow glitters all about as a result. it was beautiful. I remember cz was virtually in tears from how incredibly happy he was.)

 

Had several vivid dreams last night, here's what we remember.

In the first, I was working in some sort of grocery store, at the produce section. It was evening, and no one was in the store besides me and about 4 other employees. We had to arrange all these exotic fruits correctly, in both floor crates and the wall setup, and I remember seeing things like rambutans, kiwanos, and mangos. There was also a massive floor crate of plantains, except they were reddish in color and the skin was very dry. I was standing by those, when I overheard two other employees asking each other "where's he from? Brazil?" in reference to a dark-haired boy standing about two crates down from me. The gossipers said that "he should know all about the exotic fruit then," and returning to their work. Right then the boy walked up to where I was, holding a pair of small shears. He wore a somewhat distracted, but unsettlingly pessimistic expression, and just stood staring at the plantains for a minute. "These are different than they are where I come from," he said, and picked one up to snap off the stem at the end, then toss it aside. He continued speaking and snapping stems, saying that "everyone assumed he'd know everything since he was from Brazil," but that what we had here was effectively a "disgrace to his country" and its native produce of the same sort. His voice was steadily becoming louder as his actions became increasingly violent. I was getting scared, honestly, and was hoping someone in the System would switch out and take over, but you can't force a switch, so I was just silently offering the anchor so someone would take it, while dissociating as much as I safely could. However, then the boy paused, noticing that I seemed to be "zoning out," and said something like "I wish I could just detach from reality for a while and come back later." I surprisingly found myself shaking my head, saying "no, you really don't want to experience that." He turned to glare at me then, demanding "why not??" Despite my nerves, I looked up and began, "imagine losing hours of time, waking up in a car in the middle of nowhere with $50 missing from your wallet, and not knowing how you got there--" but he almost immediately began rolling his eyes, and cut me off, saying "don't give me that shit again. You're not saying you experience that?" I paused, unsure if I should reply, but this actually seemed to cut his doubt down. Unfortunately, the doubt was now replaced by another sort of anger, and he whirled back to the plantains, now taking out a long serrated bread knife from alongside the crate. My fear spiked then and I actually began calling for Razor, as the boy started slicing at the plantain stems now, but in a threatening way, and now facing me. He was talking to me, furiously, but I don't know about what, because a few seconds in he dropped the fruits and swung the knife right at my face. Panicked, I quickly grabbed a similar knife (not serrated) from my side of the crate and held it up, now being forced to parry several direct swings at me from the boy, who seemed intent on actually harming, if not killing me. Suddenly the knifes caught, and we were at a standstill, me holding him back and him trying to push the knife hard enough to break past. Then, almost instantly, I got kicked right out of fronting, and Razor did take over. The first thing that happened was that she grinned in that way of hers, my stress basically disappeared, and she even held the blade totally differently. She then said something to the boy, who was now looking confused but worried at this change, but again I don't recall what... it was simple, though, like "so you like to play with knives?" Not a threat, but it sounded enough like one. At that, she changed the angle of pressure on the knife, and began sliding it downwards while still holding the boy off. When the blades slid apart, the boy stood in shock, and Razor (surprisingly) went right back to slicing up the fruit-- but she was straight-up slicing them open, deliberately and with quiet glee, as they were apparently thick enough to tear well. She did this for about 10 seconds or so, talking to herself, and then the boy snapped back to attention and swung the knife at her again... and then there was another switch. This part scared me in retrospect, because I don't know who came out, but I still recognized them. They had long brown hair and brown eyes, and I thought they were Overload at first except the energy vibe was actively murderous. This girl was now fighting with malevolent excitement, striking with powerful blows that were not meant to parry but attack, and I knew that she did not care if anyone died in the process. The boy was getting scared now, backing up as they fought, and the whole time the girl was taunting him loudly. Soon they were about 15 feet away from our original spot, and he was practically pinned against the wall section of the produce. The girl grinned then, and pulled the knife back to strike what may have been a killing blow, when suddenly the whole body shook violently and I was shoved back into fronting, with the marked pain that always accompanies such a switch. I doubled over somewhat, then noticed that this isn't where I was standing, and where did this knife come from? Realization hit me, and I straightened up in fright, demanding, "what just happened? Who was just out??" The boy was in shock, and now several other employees were standing nearby as well, watching in terror. The boy sputtered, "wait, so this is what you go through with that condition??" I nodded, somewhat impatiently as I was very concerned, and the boy looked down with visible reconsideration and thoughtfulness. I was trying to flip through memory data but it was blurry then, so I tried to guess, and asked, "were they talking to you?" He said yes, but wouldn't give me any further details. So I then asked if the person had a higher vocal tone, and tried to imitate Razor's voice. The boy nodded, looking concerned, and said yes, one of them did talk like that. I now paused myself, saying "so Razor was out," and feeling terribly distressed about that fact. I knew she wasn't very good at relating to people in any context and hoped she hadn't hurt him... but then I realized he said "one of them" and that freaked me out even more. I tried to ask again who else was out, but the other employees were now trying to move the boy away from me, looking at me like I was some sort of monster, and no one wanted to speak with me anymore. I wasn't fazed, I just started wandering off in the opposite direction (towards the frozen food incidentally), trying to ask upstairs what in the world had just happened.
However, right then the "plot" switched! When I got to the frozen section, the wall setup actually opened up into a Pokemon arena, similar to those in the old Stadium games-- it was rather dark and lit only by spotlights, like an indoor sports arena, and the stands were all tiered and led down very close to the actual battleground. I was now an older version of James from Team Rocket (hair a more faded indigo, also a scruffy beard), and I was fighting someone that looked like Misty, but also in her 20s. She had sent out a Greninja to fight me, but I forget what I had used (I think it was a Grass-type though). I told my Pokémon to attack, but when it did, I experienced another instant gap of time loss. When I "came to," the battle was over and I had assumedly won, but there was no celebration on anyone's part; on the contrary, the crowds were leaving rather quietly, and Misty was standing off to the far right, with a few people around her. I walked over to her and was surprised to find that I "exited" the Stadium and walked right back into the store aisle, so that the group of us was now standing in another refrigerated aisle, perpendicular to that frozen section. I noticed Misty was crying and the small group (which consisted of a few people who seemed over age 60) was trying to comfort her. Perplexed, I asked what had happened in the battle? She looked at me with a mix of disbelief and accusation, and tearfully shouted, "what do you mean, what happened? Don't you remember?" I honestly said I didn't, and I was concerned, as the aftermath looked very negative. Misty took a deep breath, pausing, then said, "my Greninja died." Shocked, I asked how? She said that the "finishing move" I had apparently called out (during that time loss; I had no recollection of this) against him had been too much for him to handle, and that instead of fainting, her Pokémon had actually died. I was still stunned, but I was also tearing up now too, imagining what that must feel like to lose a beloved Pokémon. However, the group was still glaring at me. I then had the strange impression that they thought I was acting, as in "playing the part" of James, as of course I hadn't been him ten minutes ago. Here, though, I literally was James, and I was being entirely genuine as such. Misty was evidently awaiting my response either way, so I began to say that I was terribly sorry for having done such a thing, even accidentally. Then I started to say, "If it had been one of my own Pokémon…" but I got choked up so badly, I was about to sob. It honestly hurt, to imagine what it would be like in her position right now. Misty was looking at me with equal parts empathy and her own pain, but then she motioned for me to follow her. I did, and we walked back to the frozen-aisle stadium entrance, but Misty then continued a bit to the right, and found another hidden door there. We walked in, and entered what appeared to be a featureless black room, although it felt unsettlingly boundless. A girl in sunlight-colored robes was floating in the middle of the room, looking like some sort of fantastic mage or healer. Leaving me near the entrance, Misty walked up to her and began to quietly speak to her, voice breaking, as the girl nodded in understanding. I think they hugged at one point. Either way, the girl then motioned for Misty to move back slightly, and then she began casting some sort of Light spell. I wasn't entirely sure what happened, but she opened a sort of mental "portal" between Misty's mind and her Greninja's, so to speak, which caused the entire room we were in to physically shift to wherever her Greninja was now in the afterlife (like being in a holodeck almost). The floor seemed to 'disappear' beneath us, leaving us floating above a somewhat misty expanse of rivers, fields, and flowers. Almost instantly, Misty's Greninja appeared before us, but he was several times larger than us. When he noticed her he smiled widely and began to approach, and Misty was also beaming with joy and relief. However, as Greninja moved closer, both his size and ours seemed to shift, so that we were all effectively larger than life-size, but still equal in stature. When they met they embraced and kissed affectionately, and then the air around us seemed to 'fog over' until now we were small again, and Greninja was lying by a river in the field below, eyes closed and smiling. There was a Sceptile lying to his right, also relaxing. Misty asked who he was, and the Greninja replied that he and the Sceptile were apparently 'married' in the afterlife, having met there and growing to deeply care for one another. Misty first blushed at that, then smiled genuinely, and wished them well. She then turned to me and said, "I'm glad he found someone who can love him as much as he deserves, as I couldn't give him that." I nodded, agreeing, but I had the oddest feeling that it had been my Sceptile, although I couldn't remember having one. In fact, I had no idea what my team was at all, and that was upsetting. However, Misty was happy now, having gotten closure, and the view of the afterlife faded back into black. Misty thanked the mage-girl for the opportunity, but I was still feeling very out-of-place, not sure who I was or what I was doing anymore.

I actually woke up right around then, but fell right back asleep.
The second dream is a little blurry at the start, mostly a jumble of impressions, but it was all music-related. I have an awareness that I was singing at a piano (to some kids?) at some point, although I cannot recall exactly when or where that was.
However, the first thing I can clearly recall was being in a building that looked like my house fused with my old violin lessons location, and I was with my three brothers (who all looked several years younger). We were taking part in a Christmas-oriented piano competition there, and they had all competed already. I was the last person to perform, and I was supposed to play "Joy To The World." However, I was nervous because I hadn't memorized the piece at all, for some reason; I had the impression that I had been lacking either the time or the well-being. Still, I couldn't back out and didn’t want to either. So I was called into the review room, which looked almost like my bedroom in the waking. Instead of my bed, though, a woman that looked somewhat like my old violin teacher sat at a desk, and told me to start whenever I was ready. Sure enough, my work desk was now halfway a piano as well! I sat down at it-- which was tricky as it was an awkward height from the bench, and the pedals were out of reach-- and wondered momentarily what I would do. Then I got the idea to literally wing it, as I knew the tune well enough, and see what happened. So I did… and honestly it was pretty beautiful! I wish I remembered the arrangement I had invented when I woke up. However there were two problems with it as a recital piece-- one, I kept inexplicably shifting into a major-key version of "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen," moving back and forth between the two melodies, and two, since I was ad-libbing it like a jazz piece, there were a few "off notes" here and there where chords didn't exactly mesh. I didn't stop or falter, there were just dissonances when I was unsure what notes I was going for. But it wasn't bad, at least not from a creative standpoint. When I had finished, the woman finished writing on her paper and then sternly said, "I see you didn't memorize the piece, but I raised every score I could to keep you above a failing grade." She handed me the paper and then left, and confused, I looked at it. I had scored a 50% (a D), whereas my brothers had all scored in the 70% range (Cs). I shrugged, not being bothered, and looked to see where I had lost points (other than coming in totally unprepared of course). Surprisingly, the biggest check against me was "you didn't use the damper pedal." I had sworn I did, but looking back at the piano, I saw that the pedals were now moved completely out of foot reach, so it would have been impossible for me to use them anyway. I also lost points for "not staying on one melody" but I had to just laugh at that one.
My brothers and I assumedly all left the place to go home then, because the next thing I remember was us pulling into our driveway at home, and everyone but me jumping out of the car and running inside. I remained inside the car, though (in the back seat), feeling utterly drained and somewhat empty. The car was one I did not recognize-- it was a white two-door, smaller than our family vans, and the inside was upholstered in a dark tan I think. It wasn't textured like a car, though, it felt more like chamois. Either way I was confused. I remember vaguely reaching up then and "space-warping" the car, stretching it upwards so that it was as tall as a van, and pulling it out a little longer too. I then paused, wondering if that would mess up the machinery inside, and shrunk it a tiny bit back down. I was now too tired and oddly depressed to do much else, so I just collapsed on the back seat and lay there. As I lay, though, I suddenly felt the roof of the car "open up" intuitively, showing some sort of gold-white Roman-looking deity floating up in the clouds above me, although he was very close and the sky behind him was the color of the roof. He said he was Zeus, and that by his orders, I was not allowed to leave the car or enter my own home, ever, unless I "had sex with him" and he judged me on it. Immediately I felt myself panic despite my exhaustion; I didn't want to do that at all. So I told him that I didn't care if I could never leave this back seat again, I was not going to do that. He began to get very angry, saying I "didn't have a choice," as I "wasn't allowed to stay there." So he was virtually forcing me to. I wanted to cry from weariness but was also too tired to fight, so I just closed my eyes and hoped I could get out of this with the least pain possible. Just then, though, I heard another voice speak up and say "I'll do it." Opening my eyes, I suddenly saw Infinitii in the back of the car with me, looking sternly up at Zeus. Zeus met hir gaze with dubious scrutiny, but then shrugged rather carelessly and said "fine. Just remember, I am still the judge of it." I was feeling sick about this whole thing and was already dissociating badly, although Infi's appearance was a bit of a relief. Infi then turned to me with an apologetically empathetic look, saying ze'd do this as quickly and painlessly as possible, and also telling me to let him know if ze needed to stop, etc. By this time, though, I had completely 'unplugged' from my own brain, and was viewing myself in a sort of foggy third-person, trying not to feel anything either. Unfortunately, that sort of contact is still excruciatingly painful for me, so immediately the first thing I felt was that sick ache all the way up through my abdomen, and already I wanted it to stop. However my brain was getting confused because "hey, that's Infi over there," and my feelings for hir were clashing terribly with the pain all through my body. Thankfully I had enough nerve to speak up about this and ask Infi to stop before it got worse. Ze did, immediately, and then moved up to hold my face and apologize. I said it was okay, and then thanked hir for showing up to prevent Zeus from doing whatever he would have done. To my surprise, I then heard Zeus comment offhandedly, "that works well enough, you can go," and then disappear (as the roof closed up again). I had barely a moment to be relieved when I suddenly realized, that was the first time in a dream I'd been stuck in that sort of situation and NOT been hacked. It was staggering really, because it had still hurt like hell, and yet I had been spared the absolute worst consequences. I didn't tell this to Infi, I just held hir with a sort of surprised gratitude. I think right then, my brothers ran out of the house anyway to see where I was, and then I woke up.

Upon awakening, I had a few shaky seconds to get a grip on the body, which was still rather shocked, and I decided than in that state I did not want to get out of bed. So I went upstairs for a minute-- turning into my "light form" as I couldn't handle the physical yet-- and stopped by to see how Javier was doing. He seemed to still be asleep, and I remember the sunlight was coming through the windows in his room very prettily, making all the reds somewhat brighter and softer, especially his hair. I knelt down by his bed, smiling, and quietly called his name to see if he was close to waking. Sure enough, his eyes fluttered open, and he sleepily greeted me, asking what was up. I shrugged and said I just wanted to see how he was doing, as we'd been hanging out together often lately, and I'd be waking up on my own soon anyway. Javier sat up as I spoke, rubbing his eyes, which he still had scrunched closed, and said he was doing great, and he'd be around later. Then he opened his eyes, looking down at me, and with a smile wondered is that really the only reason why you're here at this hour? I smiled back, a little abashedly, and (since I was also mostly asleep and therefore not censoring anything) said that actually I had the funny notion to 'take him up on that offer' of trying to kiss him (we were joking about that last week; I ultimately want to kiss everyone platonically but no one knows what to do with all Jave's mouth piercings). Javier laughed a little at that, but then said, "well, do you want to try?" I paused, considering it, then said no. I didn't want to treat that so lightly; and besides, I told him, "I'd rather let you kiss Jeremiah first." He laughed again at that, but quietly, and replied "yeah, I figured you'd pick up on that." I remember pondering this then, wondering how that'd happen anyway because Jerry isn't very comfortable with romance, to say the least, but then laughed at myself because I wasn't into romance either and here I was trying to do the same. So I figured it'd be fine whenever it occurred. I know I said goodbye to Javier then and went back to my own room.

I fell back asleep barely a minute or so later, and had one more small dream before I woke up for good.
First, I was in my bedroom, making the bed, and as I did I found an Amigo Bear plushie on my grandmother's side. Surprised, I asked her when she had bought one? She didn't reply, so I decided to "check"-- and immediately turned to a waiting laptop on my desk, on which I was checking eBay prices for that bear. I found the "listing" she had bought this one from, but it was for a pattern, not a bear. The seller said they had made their own Amigo Bear from scrap fabric, and showed a picture-- it was violet in color, instead of orange, but otherwise it looked official. I thought this was really cool, and decided to keep scrolling through the listings out of curiosity. Now, however, they were listings for art pieces, instead of bears. As I scrolled down, I actually came across the original picture I ever drew of Laurie, back in 2010, listed as a print for $16. I remember being baffled: why had "I" listed it, and why for $16, when they could easily print out their own copy? I figured the latter reason was simply for the increased size, but as for the former, I was a little concerned that it was "for sale" at all. Then I shrugged, deciding to leave it there, because maybe it would "catch someone's attention and get them to find out about us." Right about then I clicked 'next page,' and after deciding that the prices were now too high for me, I closed the laptop. Looking up, I realized my room had suddenly been converted into an art gallery for all the things I had seen listed, hanging all over the walls like they would at a fair. There were also several people I didn't know walking about and looking at them, as well as a few "critics" standing in small groups and critiquing things to each other, and one "tour group" for what looked like a bunch of high school kids. I got up and looked at the art pieces directly behind me, curious, and was again surprised to see that the prices ranged from several hundred dollars to a single dollar, often for pieces of the same size and quality of art. I wondered why this was. Either way, the pieces I was looking at were all done in graphite and/or acrylic, and were somewhat abstract in subject. The art style for many of them, though, was almost manic and disheveled, looking like Dali crossed with Vasquez almost. One of the pieces by this artist was one of those listed as only $1, despite it being a very complicated graphite piece. The school tour walked by me then as I took a notebook out of my pocket, and began writing down the names of the artists I liked to look up later. The critics saw me doing this and one of them walked over to me as the kids left, and I was viewing the painting in the far left corner. Suddenly, the critic that had approached bumped into me very roughly and inappropriately from behind, making some sort of patronizing comment to me as he did so. I, of course, had frozen upon the contact, but I had not dissociated badly-- instead my brain went into a sort of alert standby. The man continued to talk, standing way too close, and I wondered why none of our protective alters had been triggered by him yet? At that, Laurie 'walked over' upstairs and said she'd take care of it… but then she paused, pondering, before saying, "actually, no. Let Wreckage deal with this guy."
Almost immediately I felt this furious rush up through the body, and I was "kicked out" of fronting, to the point where I was now viewing the body in third person-- and Wreckage was literally standing there instead! She was snarling viciously at the guy, and notably she was also salivating like an animal, all of it leaking out from between her massive maw of teeth. I realized she was barely restraining herself from mauling him with those fangs, that or Laurie was-- I felt an active "holding back" vibe around her that did not seem to be of Wreckage's own doing. Either way, the guy was absolutely horrified at this beast now towering down over him, and the critics had now gathered around, looking just as freaked but also ready to jump in and fight her if need be. Thankfully the guy spluttered out an apology for his actions and said it wouldn't happen again-- guess he got the hint-- and Wreckage visibly calmed down a bit, if not reluctantly. I woke up almost immediately after that.

I'm very thankful for all this headspace presence in dreams lately. Knife and Javier were in at least three of my dreams last week, but due to schedule stress I didn't get to write those down.
I'm not surprised at Razor being around, although it is a relief to see her, as she's been rather MIA lately.
Lastly, I have never seen Wreckage in a dream before, let alone so clearly in headspace (she's very new), so that was shocking!

 

 

 

 

I had at least three dreams last night, but strangely I remember very little of them... except for the last one, which stayed completely clear upon awakening. That one will be last.

Immediately before I woke up, I dreamed that I had been woken up by my grandmother, and was extraordinarily tired to the point of being almost unable to stand. I was also fighting to keep my eyes open. I was leaning against the closet doors when my grandmother said it was 12:30, and I said I'd have to leave right away for my appointment at 1PM, but with how tired I was I didn't feel safe driving alone. Almost instantly, the scene switched and I was now in a car (still driving), with my brother Diamond in the front seat. I had the impression that I had to leave him off at school or something. We were driving beneath the overpass leading to the main highway, but instead of the lumberyard that is behind it IRL, there was instead a dropoff, overlooking a valley. In the valley was a European-looking town, with windings rows of small houses and several old church steeples. There was also a heavy fog over the whole scene. However, despite the time at home having been after noon, the sun was just rising at this time, and it was coloring the entire sky a vivid pinkish red, like a rose-- but everything on land was a deep rich violet, and foggy. So the interplay of soft warm colors was really gorgeous, and stands out clearly in my mind. The sun rose a bit higher and the fog cleared almost instantly as the sun's rays hit the valley, but I woke up for good almost immediately then. Now to backtrack!
In another short dream before that one, I was in our attic, looking through huge book boxes for some unspecified title. As usual in dreams, the attic was the size of a whole other house, and stuffed to the brim with myriads of items. I remember seeing a stack of Japanese anime magazines, which I immediately noted that I "had to sell." Prior to that, I was in the kitchen, by the sink. My laptop was on the table, playing a song on Youtube that was essentially a 10-minute-long prog rock piece. Oddly, it used some sound samples from the Winnie the Pooh cartoon (a la Pogo), and it claimed the song was by Will Smith. However, this was false-- upon checking the screen, I saw that it was part of a playlist, and Will Smith had written the upcoming song. I forget the actual name of the prog rock band, but it was fictional. Regardless, the song was absolutely incredible. After it ended, I went down the hall to my brother's room, which now looked almost identical to my old work room from 2010 (when staying at my dad's place). I had my old laptop (Abby) set up beneath the windows, and sat down to type up three entries in this very dream journal-- about the dreams I had before this one, go figure, which I remembered in perfect clarity at the time-- as well as one or two updates in the System journal concerning how they related to our inner life. However, the more I tried to type, the more emotionally distraught I got, and I was having trouble concentrating; the aura was very morbid, almost identical to IJ/2009, not surprisingly considering how the house looked, and I really just wanted it to stop and be peaceful. I also have a feeling that several people were either harassing me or haunting me as there was a subtle feeling of sensory overwhelm, outside the room but huge in its weight. Either way, I didn't get to write anything as I felt both angry/sad to the point of wanting to scream and cry, and so crushingly tired that I could barely see the screen or move my hands.

 

I had two longer dreams that I'm aware of before that smattering of smaller ones, both of which involved my being injured and/or dying. One was set outside, but I cannot remember anything of it save that impression. The second was set inside, but again, I can only remember one scene.
In it, I was in some sort of room like a rented group room, the kind people hold meetings and dances in I guess. There was some sort of social function going on in this one, with everyone wearing whitish clothing (I think?) and standing around talking, almost formally. However everyone there was a teenager, and a few of them were from my old high school. I was walking around, but feeling highly dissociated. I think there were vague blue, pink, and violet lights shining around because those colors are clear in my mind, along with the gauzy obscuring white everywhere, but my self-awareness was almost zilch. There was also a small raised stage at the front of the room, with white curtains behind it, which I kept my eyes on in glimpses as I moved through the crowd, but it was empty. As I walked towards it, some short, chunky girl with a pile of curly blonde hair roughly bumped into me from the left side, talking like she was trying to greet me but smiling viciously, and as she did she reached out and slapped me on the back in face greetings. As she did I felt a sharp pain in my back, like a tiny stab. She hiss-giggled to her friend nearby and the two slinked away, but I was too dazed to react much. I moved a little, trying to figure out what that was, and felt something like a large splinter in the upper center my back, right below my shoulder blades. I knew I'd had to get it out but felt too tired to try, and hoped I could just wait until later to do so safely. So I walked around aimlessly, with people casting dark glances at me and snickering behind their hands and drinks all the while, and suddenly I got this strong impression that everyone here was part of some great group or organization, something futuristic and coldly exclusive, and that I was either a reject or a failed member of that group? I also 'knew' that the splinter-thing in my back was actually technological, basically a glass microchip a little over an inch long, and bluish-clear like the light. I also knew that it "shouldn't be sticking out like that," and the knowledge gave me a sick sort of low but panicky dread, but it was so muted by my fuzzy state of mind that I 'accepted' it like one accepts a fatal diagnosis. Anyway, I was now about 12 feet from the stage when a tall, dark-haired girl suddenly appeared in front of me, sneering. I recognized her as the girl who sat next to me in my first high school homeroom (and incidentally, the only person I clearly remember from those entire 4 years). She began talking to me in a syrupy-fake voice, asking me how I was doing, et cetera, but she was glaring at me the whole time. I didn't say anything, but then she grinned and reached over my shoulder, actually touching the edge of the splinter, then pushed down at a heavy angle. I guess she was trying to shove it in more, or cause me more pain, but instead of moving the splinter neatly broke it in half. Instantly she drew back as if she had been burnt, eyes wide and face still contorted in a slightly sick "whoa, not my fault" expression. She laughed nervously, as if she was laughing off danger; there was a charged undertone of disbelief. A few people started murmuring uneasily. I shifted uncomfortably then, aware that the splinter was broken and not liking the feeling at all, but as I did, both halves fell out and clattered to the floor. Instantly, everyone around us froze, and a sort of total hush fell over the room.
At that moment I became aware of more dream-plot. Apparently, every member of this "organization"-- or society even, it felt very broad-- had a technological splinter like this in their backs, like an identification chip. Normally though, they were perfectly flat and embedded deeply in the skin, so that they were visible and touchable but could not be jostled or otherwise removed. However, these chips were vital? "Everyone had one," and if you lost yours, or if it was broken or removed, you would die. This was not reversible; once it occurred, you were effectively dead. So I immediately understood that like a death knell, and it was apparent everyone else did too.
Fittingly, just then a wave of quiet murmurs began behind me, and the first one I heard was some girl whispering excitedly that "if you ever lose that, you die." More murmurs began, none regretful, all saying things like "I can't believe it broke," "why was s/he being so careless with it, how foolish," "that's lethal!" and then, most clearly and almost carelessly-- "well, s/he's going to die soon, but it's going to cause excruciating pain first." I felt a real jab of fear at that, but dully, and resignedly continued walking towards the stage. The girl who had hit me was still watching with that look, but now she laughed in disbelief as I moved past her, slowly walking up to the steps on the right side of the stage.
As I did, I had another rush of dream awareness, tired and sad and apologetic-- apparently, whoever I was in this dream, they were cruel. I didn't know the details, but everyone in this room obviously held a grudge and a heavy dislike of 'me,' for good reason, as I had been callous, manipulative, spiteful, et cetera. This realization was entirely in third person, and I also noticed then that the body was female, slightly heavy, and with wiry curly black hair. I knew it wasn't 'me' at all, but I still felt obligated to act on that individual's persona, as I was acutely but distantly aware every moment that I was going to start outright dying any second now. I was also aware that the crowd's mutual reaction to my situation was "oh thank God, they're finally going to die-- but how shockingly sudden a death!" It was overwhelming relief, but tainted with the sort of knee-jerk jitters of witnessing a car crash firsthand. Nevertheless I wanted to settle things a little for this person's sake, as was my nature. So, I walked up the steps to stand in the center of the stage and face the people. It was dead silent and still as I did so, and everyone watched me intently, looking completely surprised. After a moment, I began to talk. The voice sounded flat and depressed, but I was sincerely apologizing on their behalf, saying I knew I had been "terrible" to them and that there were "no excuses for my actions." I asked their forgiveness, saying that I held no ill will towards any of them, and was truly sorry that I had been such a negative entity in their lives up to this point, and only wished that I could have done something to alleviate or otherwise heal the damage I had done to them during my life. Essentially, "I know I have not been a good person, but as I'm going to die momentarily, I want to say that I'm sorry." As I spoke, I saw some faces showing empathy or softening, like they were truly accepting this, and I was subconsciously grateful. However, I felt nothing but a calmly morbid resignation at my approaching death-- which is actually perfectly typical for me in dying dreams-- and the awareness that my insides felt like the calm before a storm. As this entire time I had been "bracing for impact," afraid of the "excruciating pain" that still hadn't quite hit, I stopped speaking and paused, unsure of what to do or where to go. But, after a moment or two of charged silence, I got a sudden shock of pain in my chest, somewhat to the right. I can only describe it as feeling like a "watercolor bloom" of a diluted electric shock, like some crashing inner burst or impact that didn't quite register. I knew that was the beginning of the end, and almost immediately I felt a sort of quiet flooding in my chest, and blood began to leak from the corner of my mouth. I felt a real twinge of fear then.
The very instant that first trickle of red appeared, most of the audience took a few steps back, but one man suddenly shoved through the crowd from the very back left, obviously highly upset, and rushing to get to the stage. The instant he burst through the front row he paused, looking utterly distraught emotionally yet hesitant, and so I stepped down off the stage to lean against it, upon which he rushed up to me and grabbed my arms below the shoulders with surprising supportiveness and care. The instant he did this I felt my dream-self-image start to slowly shift, away from the unknown cruel woman (who now felt as if she was literally fading away, like a ghost freed) and towards my actual snowy-haired self. But it was distant and gradual, and felt tied to this man. Curious at why he was there, it was then that I realized this guy was decked-out like a traditional vampire, but more than anything else, he looked (and felt) overwhelmingly like Knife. Fitting this resemblance, he immediately began insisting that "I couldn't die," "there has to be some way to save you," and the like, while constantly looking all over me as if searching for something to cure or fix, yet seeming both terribly hopeful and yet aware of my lethal condition. The whole while I just watched him with a notable degree of trust and calmness-- like although I knew I would be dead soon, it would be okay now that he was here-- although I was very shaky and it was getting hard to breathe, as my mouth was full of blood and my nose was now dripping with it too. I was scared of the pain, not of dying. But his borderline-tearful insistence that he could "save me somehow" was touching, and that's when I realized, "hey wait, you're a vampire." I said this, carefully, then mused that he could drink the blood and therefore not waste it, but this made him look even sadder. So I then tiredly added, "well, you could bite me, and make me a vampire too, so I'd live... but then I'd be immortal, and I really just want to die." His reaction to this was memorably interesting. His eyes lit up at the prospect of my becoming immortal and therefore surviving, but when he realized he'd have to bite me first, he visibly balked. I got this powerful impression that not only did he not want to harm me intentionally via that act, he also didn't want this to be a sort of "feeding" thing. So he was battling with his own drive to "save me" in conflict with his refusal to harm or disrespect me. Then when I said I just wanted to die, his face absolutely crumpled. Honestly although he wasn't saying anything in terms of sentences, just sort of emotionally flailing, his thoughts were crystal clear to me (not surprisingly, as that is all textbook Knife behavior)... and I suddenly found that I deeply cared about this individual as well, to the point of compassionately not caring about what happened to me at all. I just wanted to "make my death beneficial when my life had been so malevolent." Now I had blood all over me by this point and I was really in pain, but I then realized two things-- one: that this Knife-lookalike was definitely going to bite me if it would save me, as soon as he got the nerve, and two: that the longer it took, the more pain I would suffer, because apparently splinterchip-loss death required that a body bleed out entirely before it died, and (fittingly to headspace) the more "sins" a person had committed in their life, the more blood they had to spill in atonement before they would be allowed to die. So I knew I had a hell of a lot of pain and bleeding to get through yet. I then decided that I HAD to die, if it would indeed expunge this life's wrongdoings in any way, which was a huge relief. But I had to die quick, somehow, if I wanted to override this kind vampire's fighting desire to save me.
This next bit has imprinted itself so clearly upon my memory I don't think I'll forget it. At this point I looked and felt 100% like myself, which was somewhat surreal, but comforting. I was now unable to talk and struggling to breathe from all the blood in my mouth and nose, and was slowly collapsing from fatigue and pain, so that the vampire was essentially holding me up. He was talking to people in the crowd at that moment, as a few people were drawn close about us now and he kept looking back and forth between them and me, but I couldn't make sense of any sound; my brain was basically shutting down. I genuinely smiled then, feeling total real peace for the first time in that entire dream (and the ones after), and simply raised my arms up to my chest, positioning my hands on my sternum as if I were about to open the shutters of a window. A nearby woman saw me do this before anyone else and her eyes bugged out, as she pointed and shouted not in warning, but in surprise. Everyone else stepped forward slightly then, seeing whatever I was doing, and the vampire himself whirled back around to view me with helpless dread, saying "no, don't"-- but it was too late. In one effortless movement, I tightened my "grip", and then-- for lack of a better description-- cracked my ribcage open like a book. There was a small, internal and audible "snap" as my entire chest cavity opened, utterly cleanly, as if it were built to be one day opened but it could never be re-closed afterwards, and I collapsed in the vampire's arms as an absolute deluge of blood came rushing out. Now, the body died in the instant the ribs were opened, so I had to leave it, therefore in that instant my perspective became split between both first and third person (staying inside the corpse was stifling, and literally felt like trying to possess a rock; I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, etc.). So although I could dimly feel the blood heat and total blessed slackness of my skeleton, my vision was now vividly floating about five feet behind my own head, as a 'ghost' if you will. And from there, I saw my body go limp with the ocean of red, but I also saw the vampire instantly sob openly, embrace my broken form with a powerful anguish, and bury his head in my shoulder as he cried outright. It is one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen or felt in a dream. However, at the same time I heard some woman nearby exclaim, "he broke the seal!" This was not explained and I didn't get any data on it, but it was obvious that this was virtually unheard of, and even more shocking than my splinterchip having broken to pieces. All I knew, as I had known intuitively upon doing it, that "breaking the seal" would empty all the blood from the body at once, therefore causing instant death. Disturbingly though, my body was still bleeding at such a profuse rate; it was all over the floor, and the poor vampire was getting soaked but he wouldn't let go. Someone managed to pry my body away from him (although he was still holding it up), saying "we need to close the seal" because really that was too much blood already, but no matter what they did it would not stay closed-- the circumstances of death demanded that the blood be totally expunged, and considering how the "life" I had taken on in that position had been quite the malevolent one, there was a lot of blood required by "law" and it would not be stopped, even at this great rate. However, it was now taking a freakish toll on the body (which, notably, had now returned to resembling the woman who owned it at the start)-- the mouth and nose were still bleeding, but now so were my ears, and my eyes had turned totally red and were now starting to actually spurt blood from some sort of internalized pressure. At this, the vampire turned and started shouting for everyone to "get out of here," which many people already were. Most of the crowd was running for the doors, but the room itself was changing, getting darker and smaller and actually starting to resemble my IRL kitchen. Either way, it was imperative that everyone but the vampire evacuate, or they would be at risk of dying too, somehow, from whatever the body needed to do at the close of this bloody expulsion. The last thing I saw was the last handful of people either hesitating or running from the room, and the vampire nervously but solemnly looking back down at the corpse, which was now quite a nightmarish sight. I had the strong notion that he was going to end up drinking most of that blood, but not simply to "eat" it-- there would be some important purpose in the act, which was unexplained. Then the scene switched, to what I don't know, but that was it.


I daresay I don't have to point out the blatant and unsettling headspace symbolism in that latter account. Considering how bizarre and frightening the past week has been for us, that does not surprise me, but it does disquiet me.
I have not yet told Knife about this dream but I will have to, whenever I get the chance and the nerve to. In any case I am sure he will have some additional insight about it.