prismaticbleed | Entries tagged with reset attempts

Jay here. It's been a long time since any of us updated and frankly I've lost my entire concept of time right about now-- ironically, as this is Celebi's month, but that's actually a big part of this too.

Our Spectrum, our System, has been "dead" for about… at least a week? Solidly since Friday. I say "dead" because the downstairs "System" took over entirely after Jackie nearly killed us with bingeing on Friday, and someone swore to "kill her" and Jewel took over 100% for the next four days.
…Or, at least, she tried to stay out 100%. As of today, she realized rather traumatically that even on her level, she's not alone. She loses time, however small, she switches out, she blurs.

Over the past few days of operating on this level, there have been a lot of threats to the Spectrum existence, including (as far as I'm aware):

- Trying to delete our LJ archive
- Trying to delete ALL our System Tumblr archives
- Trying to cancel all our future trans* medical appointments
- Trying to throw out our HRT
- Effectively trying to revert the body back to being as "purely feminine" as it allegedly was when we were 16 or so? I have no clue, but that was the motivation
- Trying to cancel ALL future therapy appointments (Jewel was on board with this as her younger self saw it all as "dumb," but thank God that the older Jewel (12-13, white clothes) decided "let's at least wait until Thursday." Well Thursday is going to be interesting now, to say the least.
- Trying to throw out all our System-relevant possessions (very few, used mostly for grounding or anchors or reminders)
- Trying to sell Chaos Zero's anchor plush (!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
- Trying to COMMIT SUICIDE
- and various other hyperreligious things tied to "restoring" the body back to how it was at an unknown earlier age, basically the "work persona" cranked up to eleven-- long hair, dresses and makeup, vanilla smile, and no sense of self other than serving others-- in their eyes, a "perfect holy godly woman." But such a "woman" has no self, and that to them is holy too… the problem is, they don't realize that the reason they don't exist away from other people is because they SWITCH. Life's fine living as a literal servant of humanity as long as you always have humanity to serve. Such a person is incapable of self-care, as evidenced by the horrifyingly abusive alters that ALWAYS take over instead the moment we are forced to "take care of ourself," and by the perfect-girl's total unawareness of such behavior occurring.

But yeah. That's been things lately.

Honestly we need to be in bed for midnight tonight because the body is sick, sick sick sick, we are terrified for our life right now and we need to rest, God have mercy we need to rest, seven hours is all we're getting right now but that's better than five.

Long story short: on the downstairs level, there are TWO girls who are abominably abusive eaters. The first is a manic, but it's NOT Jackie this time-- like I said, she was put on death row on Friday and as far as I know she's being murdered as we speak-- this alter is the "but I enjoy it!!" one who DOESN'T EXIST FOR THE CONSEQUENCES and so thinks she is totally immune to sickness and allergies and indigestion and pain and other things. So, she cannot comprehend that other people aren't so "immune"… let alone that she's sharing a body with such people. I apologize but thinking about her makes me very ill and makes me want to shake and cry.
The second abusive eater is the core alter for ALL abusive behavior: Jessica/Cecelia. She's the one who's halfway between brown and lime green and who is crushingly depressed to the point where she's also halfway between staggering apathy and agonizing despair. But her despair and self-hatred and shame and guilt is so potent that she cannot cope with it, and so she SHUTS DOWN and just eats and eats and eats because 1) it numbs everything and 2) it's highly abusive and might just kill her to end the pain.
So that's the deadly duo right there, but then we have alter #3, who we've been calling Overload, because apparently a huge sort of merging has occurred and ALL those fragmented furious alters had their roots/anchors fuse into ONE person, one wild brown-haired girl motivated by "perfect hatred" and violence and sheer blazing rage in the name of "murdering all evildoers for Christ's sake." She's dangerous, terribly dangerous, because although her heart is technically in the right place, she would love nothing more than to take Cecelia by the throat and smash her skull into concrete repeatedly until it's a bloody sickening pulp, screaming at her the whole time that she's a whore and God hates her and "is this what you want" and basically spitting every condemnation in hell at this fellow alter for her "brazen f*cking sinfulness" that she "deserves to die for."

…This is the situation we're in, currently.
I can't find the strength or time to write more about that tonight. That'll be for Thursday.

Two more things.
First, for God knows what reason (and that's probably why), when Cecelia was binge-abusing on two bloody boxes of cereal (and God also only knows the amount of sheer panicked terror I feel upon realizing that went in OUR BODY), the grandmother walked in and told her that she needed to stop eating because "your Pokemon are in your room crying."
…
Yes, she said that. It's because we had retro Pokemon toys lined up on the floor to photograph for eBay, but… of all things to say, at all times. Of all things.
The instant we heard that, we instantly knew that it was Celebi who was sobbing her eyes out.
Cecelia couldn't cope with the immediate matching agony that Jewel felt about that, so her response was to shut down even further and force herself to eat even more for, as always, God knows what reason.

Infinitii told me it might be because Cecelia can't imagine living a life that's not wracked by pain. She has no comprehension of peace, or relief, or life outside of abuse. Her entire existence is defined by self-destruction, by the knowledge that she's a "horrible sinful wretched pile of filth" and so why treat herself any differently?
Another bit is still the potent catharsis of vomiting, which is also the ONLY way a lot of the most tortured alters can deal with their crippling trauma at all, now that the "safer" forms of self-abuse like biting and cutting are forbidden.
God, I don't care if it's forbidden. Please, I would rather have Gamboge's old scars marking our arms again than this 5+ hour ordeal of hell every evening. I would rather spend the 30 minutes bleeding into a tub drain, sobbing with the people I love than waking up after a whole day of three loveless alters trying to kill each other and not giving a shit who pays the toll in the long run.

I'm sorry. It just hurts a lot.
Celebi says it breaks her heart too because "they say they love her, but never act on it." She says it's all empty words but she KNOWS Jewel is "in there somewhere" and she doesn't know how to get her out or why she's trapped or what to do… you get the idea.
But that breaks my heart, too. Celebi has to play the role of Genesis, Laurie, Chaos Zero, and Infinitii for the downstairs level, which is really just Jewel (the other alters don't give a flying donut), but that's enough. Celebi is a literal lifesaver for them.
There are more than four alters on that level, I know that, they're all terrifically compartmentalized… all of them are brown eyed, long brown haired, teenage girls, and for the most part they all think they're alone in the body. Miss hyper-religious "I'll kill you for God's sake" knows she's not alone but she only knows that through outside evidence. She hears the floating voices too but she HATES them and actually that hatred of hers can be used for LIFE SAVING purposes if done right. This alter doesn't give a shit what screaming voices or trying-to-front other alters are forcing on her; she'll spit in their face and do the right thing instead. So she's interesting, and I'm glad she exists, but I just wish she wasn't so absolutely hellbent on murdering everything "bad" because often that ends with her TRYING to destroy our body just to "kill the demons in it."

She's the one that demanded we exercise for an hour at 11PM, both to try to heal from that awful binge session of the other girls, and also as "punishment" to push our weak and shaking and stressed body even further until it hopefully "collapsed."
That's a note… at night, unless our body is tired, hungry, and having trouble standing, we're afraid to sleep because we think something is wrong. Most of that is because feeling "full, content, and happy" is viewed with utter scandalized disgust, as such words are horribly sinful and hedonistic, and really indecent. So we live feeling like an icicle or a small green shoot, something thin and small and clear and raw and SAFE.

Anyway. We only got 45 minutes in because let's face it, the exercise bike is loud and people are trying to sleep, and also because I wanted to type something before going to bed.
I'm sharing the bed with Celebi this month as she needs the love (and also it is her official month), but she told me I could share the bed with Chaos Zero tonight if I wanted to, because let's face it, I love him with my entire heart and I miss him terribly and the downstairs people largely have no concept of love and they've been feeding our body the message that "we don't love anyone" lately and that's entirely false.
But he says I should share it with her, after today. That was my plan anyway.

…I had massive amounts of synchronicity immediately upon coming back and fronting while we were exercising. I forget how that set me off. Maybe it was Punch Brothers. Jewel was listening to "Familiarity" (my "Black Light Machine," effectively) and feeling utterly distraught because she was scared and tired and in pain and was convinced that God wasn't listening to her, that He wouldn't deliver her from this terror because He hated her, because He "didn't know her," because "God didn't love her"… and then the chorus came on.
The instant that thought left her head, the song replied, "I love you, I mean it."
And she cried.
She cried, barely able to comprehend what had just happened, and she could barely front for the rest of the song, and then the next thing I'm aware of, I'm sitting on the bike listening to Beachshade and Lord, it's been four days, at the very least, do you have any idea what it's like to not exist for 96 hours in a row?? Or more?
But I was back.
And Relic sang Together by Mesita, and as I sadly sang along the outro suddenly punched me in the chest and I realized this is why I woke up, this is why I'm back now.
…And then out of the dark, Laurie laughed that no one's listened to a System song in weeks out of shame /hatred /disgust /embarrassment, and as I sadly smiled in response, it suddenly hit me that to the downstairs people she didn't exist either, she had NEVER existed, and yet here we were talking as the old friends we were as if we hadn't literally just awoken from the dead.
…

…The downstairs people don't get synchronicity, ever I think, which is heartbreaking. Why? Is it because they feel so isolated and alone, so cut off from each other and the world? Is it because they scoff at compassion? Is it because they turn away in shame from love?
I don't know.

All I know is that I'm glad to be back and I miss my daughter and my loves and my friends and even this blood family and even as I say all this, I feel the downstairs fronters laughing in scorn and spitting in disgust and snarling in hate and why, why why WHY are they like that, why do they still have so much POWER, how can we stop them?

…

We have work tomorrow. Dad got sick so we had two days off this week but no sleep as we still had to get up early for family work and errands, but no matter, it's good to help.

We do need to crack the heck down on taking care of ourself though which means that we need cash to buy healthy food, and we need Emmett and Aimee front-and-center tomorrow, God willing, we'll try.

It's a fight. It's an all-out war, minute by minute, Jewel at least recognized that. The fighting never stops, not with these horribly damaged and malevolent downstairs girls. It's exhausting, but there's nothing else we can do right now.

I'm Hope. I can't deny that. The word shines in my very bones. I need to live that.

It's 12:26AM, good Lord, let me post this and get our poor broken body to sleep.

We're still alive, everyone, God knows how, but I'm thankful for that. We still have a road to walk.

I want my innocence back.
I want to be able to feel love that isn’t tainted by the fear of it “needing to be sexual.”
I/we have been used and lied to and manipulated for so long that those bad thought processes have some ugly thorny roots in our head, and I want them gone.

Love is pure. My love is pure. Jay’s love is pure, Infinitii’s love is pure, ALL of our love is pure, why the heck do people keep telling them/us that “if you truly love someone, you will want to have sex with them??”

No. It’s not that. True love means you want to be close to them. You want your HEARTS to be brought together, and even that is hard for me to say because of how intimate it is! (And I accidentally typed “infimate,” I think ze’ll appreciate that.)

I wrote about this before, how I’m tired of this grown-up sexuality thing. I’m still 13, I’m not interested in that, and I won’t ever be. But I feel sorry for Jay… he never got to be a kid like me; he’s 21 I think? Somewhere in his early 20s. But he’s not truly adult? His heart is very young I think. And he doesn’t love people in “that way either.”

But we have bad, bad, abusive introjects in our system that don't care about love at all, and that's the problem.
Jay gets so scared. So scared. I feel bad for him. That's why I'm trying to front more, I don't deal with the bad stuff, it gives him a break from worrying. But according to Laurie, those abusive introjects are trying to hurt me too.
Well I won't let them. I won't EVER let them.

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

@ 11:41 PM

101815

- FIRST SNOW OF THE SEASON!!! Jay was psyched
- went to a concert at the old university. “Rhodes” came out? full name is rhodolite. “softer side” of cannon. Tied to the “formal concert occasion” vibe; still felt like she could be an artist though?
- went walking across campus with gen. Memories mostly tied to spinzor.

- ATTEMPTED RESET during concert, of ALL White holders, Infinitii, and CZ.
- not sure how it affected the white holders. Seemed to stick with infi and cz, NEEDS TO BE FOCUSED ON.
infi should be keeping the look extra-vertebrae got down from now on, with the iridescence, AND the dual eye + mouth on face. Lots of integrity there.
- cz LOSING THE RUBY in his innerspace self and it being replaced with a HEADSPACE CUBE JEWEL. All aqua too. makes sense as the ruby-resonance wasslipping for a while as his aquamarine self-fracture had it all instead

- cel was fronting at some point today I think?? Not sure. Her eyes are solid lime green now btw
- jay has a profoundly accurate resonance with the sound of harp harmonics. Realized that during the concert; he teared up immediately upon hearing them, thought “that’s me.” we managed to record the best ones (had a strong feeling to do so) so hopefully we'll be able to upload it eventually?

- wreckage in car talking to laurie. Sobbing, “what do we do,” worried about fronting situation, “why are there socials made to function in the outside world; I’ve seen it, we should have NOTHING to do with it”
- problems with white vibes??? Iridescence tied to “tumblr aesthetic” stuff and now viewed as too “ignorantly childish” and negative. Glitter is unsure. Rainbow light is still safe but it “needs to be kept pure;” wreckage recognized that the “pure hearted ones” are the ones that get targeted the most. But said jay SHOULD be our main fronter, he just had to not get corrupted by the outside; this awful unfairness made her cry again
- telling laurie to keep her color; “if you get lost then we’re all lost.” Said tons of other headvoices look up to her as a “guiding light”
- angry screaming sobbing voice on the way down. Hurt the voice a lot. She kept sobbing on the drive down, laurie told her just keep driving, someone was relying on us. Person said “it wasn’t fair” that if the body died (to free us) then we all died? “why can’t we just start a new game together in a body that SHE isn’t in” etc.

- jay fronting in the kitchen after all this, said to laurie that he was “perfectly happy” just to be alive in that moment. After everything else that evening we needed that, desperately

- no hacks, no sickness, although we did have to purge what someone tried to eat. But we’re actually rather okay.
- computer setup irritating wrist but it does seem to be healing.

- injokes of the past few days have been great:
1) jay talking about how he felt more angelic physically, like "something out of the book of revelation," what with all the eyes and wings and such. laurie joking that if the prophet john ever saw him we'd get "the book of revelation 2: the sequel" and that it would open with john essentially saying "you are not going to believe the sh*t i've just seen"
2) genesis pronouncing "cornichons" hilariously wrong after seeing a bottle of them in the store, did this all the way home, i was cracking up
3) pill bottle in kitchen caught the light and was exactly leon's indigo color. it was vitamin e. laurie said this was "vitamin excellent" and that explained why both leon and nat were such cool dudes

- forgot to mention. the other day at work, kyanos was ATTACKED BY JEZEBEL in headspace?? she was mocking him for having "no weapons" and was demanding he defend himself or else. i think he ended up taking off his branch crown/halo thing and using it almost like a discus or chakram, used his feathers as throwing darts almost (they came off almost glassy?). not sure. but he was very scared, rather desperate, i know some other centralites showed up and saved him but it was scary.
- also. sylvain has an inner form now!! he's no longer a faceless social. maybe because he's been out so often lately in succession with internal people, his vibe is solidifying. david was comforting him about something he was scared of, suddenly realized that david is a year or two older than sylvain. he has aged slightly so that is interesting too.

current timestamp.

the "system" is resetting

central committed mass suicide in order to purge all sexual corruption from the ranks

only kyanos is left as he was deemed untouched and a beacon of hope.

all resurrection will be postponed and/or forbidden until purity, peace, love, chastity, respect, integrity, and righteousness are instated as the new absolute unquestionable roots of Central and headspace as a whole.

all hackers known were found and killed.

may the retributors be blessed, may the atoners be forgiven and blessed profusely.
may all hatred and sorrow and rage be healed in their hearts.
may they be protectors of all that is good and holy.
may they carry the wrath of god towards all who would corrupt us.
may they be holy fire, burning away all tainted thoughts and patterns.

may I be instated as something pure and good and true as well.
may I never be touched by the black tainted things that hurt the others in the spectrum.
may I stand as a beacon of hope, proclaiming victory of the light over darkness.

may our system be RESET
totally and fully and completely

may all the corruption and horror and disgust and shamefulness of the old system be ANNIHILATED in totality from this moment on.

from this moment on let us be PURE and COMPLETE IN RIGHTEOUSNESS.

june 4th 2015. 10:30pm. we are beginning anew.

we are refusing to take back in all the corruption of the past.

anyone wishing to be reborn MUST throw away all ties to old corruption and start over, as something positive and beneficial to the health and healing of the soul.

may all corrupt social voices be annihilated if they are not yet.
may all harmful fronters and harmful patterns be annihilated in the flame of god.

may we be blessed.
may we be protected.
may we be whole.
may we be holy.
may we be innocent and virginal and chaste.
may we be free of hate.
may we be healed of rage.
may we be full of peace and light.
may we be full of the fire of justice.
may we be dedicated unflinchingly to what is right.
may we be born again.

kyanos.

humansofnewyork: "I ran away to California for a week without telling anyone. I wanted to remove myself from everything, to see if I could work out some things in my head. But it actually created more problems. I learned it doesn’t really work that way."
"How do you mean?"
"Just that if you can’t figure out your problems in your present circumstances, you’re probably not going to figure them out by running away from them."

I moved out-of-state three times for this reason, and had to return due to my 'problems' becoming monstrous as a result. So this rings very true.
Your problems are within you. No change in physical location will change that.
Problems, troubles, pains, will all resurface, over and over, until you can heal them and let them go. That's a fact of life.
Ultimately, you really do just need to face them head-on, and deal with whatever happens from there. One day at a time.

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

@ 12:21 am

We had at least five total-integration attempts over the past 12 months. Unfortunately they were all instigated by less-than-benevolent individuals, and were more concerned about destroying people than really integrating healthily.
But yeah, somehow, we survived. The first two attempts actually made our dissociation much worse. Our System member count has tripled from what it was in 2012, solely because half of us didn’t show our faces until our entire inner world was shaken to its core with those attempts.

...It is a very common occurrence in our System for people to “die and come back,” in as little as minutes to as long as several years. Our headspace seems to have a permament rule of thumb that, “if someone is needed, they will not— and cannot— stay dead, for the sake of everyone else.” Some people have tried to stay dead (notably Javier), but ultimately, yeah, the System itself will bring them back IF AND WHEN they are needed to be alive. If they were supposed to integrate, or disappear, or otherwise fade away… then they will stay gone.

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

@ 01:32 am

Just a quick note.
Headspace/heartspace tends to snap back with a bang when it's been ignored for a while, usually with a surge of dark things from under the surface too. It forces focus, really.
So this evening, we had a legit hack. Scared us all badly. Haven't had one of those since... mid-December? I think? Don't remember. Could be sooner, but no memory. Anyway nothing this bad since Javier died, I would wager. Most of us thought it had stopped permanently, but no, there are still OLD deep roots. So this revealed those at least.
In short: the perpetrator was a splinter. We thought they died in 2011! But no, this was clearly and undeniably the same guy. So the System is pretty shaken up, we didn't expect this at all, especially not now. But there it is.

As a result a bunch of people came out today, for the first time in weeks.

First, we have a ton of people tied to eating disorders, but the head honcho finally showed her face for good today. She calls herself "The Destroyer." She's also right on the fence between being benevolent or malevolent, what with her anchor being what it is. We'll write more about her tomorrow.

Infi was out for about five minutes in the evening. Ze's the only reason we got through this without a total meltdown, as he managed to redirect the hacker intent at the last second.

The "Victorian pink" girl finally revealed herself (we've been suspecting her). She is human, strongly tied to OLD trauma, and seems stuck around age 13-14. She's very wounded emotionally and is obviously traumatized from abuse. She also seems totally unaware of headspace, with her focus being solely on the horror and pain she is mentally stuck in reliving right now. She's also markedly suicidal, in a desperately frantic sense, which is obviously a major concern.

Sylvain's brother was out shortly, to chase someone bad away. Good to know he's still able to front.

Some new but shockingly solid green girl was out, fighting shadows in the downstairs bedroom with scissors. She's non-human (somewhat demonic actually?), but fiercely benevolent, and seems to be a protector. We're going to try and find her inside ASAP, as Green people are rare and we definitely need her help right now.

Overload was also out temporarily, to forcibly tell the A.P. not to try and trigger any body memories. She was surprisingly powerful in forbidding anyone from even trying to move the body at the time.

Lastly, Mulberry and Knife both co-fronted for a few minutes before we detached from the situation entirely and went online. Mulberry was trying to clear any lingering hack energy from the environment, to keep any bad triggers from jumping up during the night, and Knife was making sure no one tried to self-abuse or otherwise harm the body (as there were some very strong inclinations and attempts to).

After all that we did a headcount and we're at 60 now, as far as stable and identified people go. To think, back in 2012 there were barely 20 of us known. But it's nicer now, with everyone. There are so many good people in here, we love them. We all love each other really, that's the thing that keeps us going even when bad nights like this happen, because they will. Blood and sunshine, my friends. Y'need both.

That's it for tonight. Battery is almost gone, we need sleep anyway.
Dreams lately have been very enlightening (and headspace people are showing up in them lucidly again!) but we haven't posted them online yet. Also a few more audio notes to post to the archives once someone stops being afraid to listen to them. Doubt is a terrible thing, when it affects the existences of others.
Nevertheless it's late and we're tired and typing nonsensically isn't helping anyone. Have a good night.

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

@ 01:54 am

It's odd, but moving nevertheless.

Five years after finding her, by some glorious accident, that photograph of her illuminated face is one of the only things that can restore my hope in a single instant.
She's become a sort of intangibly eternal monument to the purity of inspiration, and of the inherent beauty in all things. Does that make sense in words?
Looking at her, even now, after so much has changed... the reality of her existence still makes me believe, with total surrendering conviction, that my own existence isn't anywhere near as dark as I may feel it is.

How odd. But how lovely, too.

A three word update:

We're still alive.

The archives are back. Someone deleted them last Tuesday, and tried to delete this page too. Jay held them off, and brought things back today.
We're not sure who this person is inside, who keeps trying to abandon all of us in one fell swoop, but we will have to band together more strongly as a community if we want to prevent that in the future. It seems they only strike when we fade enough for them to consider us utterly nonexistent, and therefore irrelevant. But our lives have meaning too.
...A certain someone left a long message in our inbox concerning all of this, which we are currently reading. We want to thank you, sincerely, for every one of these words. This means so much, truly.

Things have been quiet lately. It's a sort of empty-field quiet, where nothing moves forwards or backwards.
We have therapy tomorrow, and we want to dedicate that entire day to reconnecting on the inside. We've all been badly shaken up since the holocaust in December, and it looks like we need to literally stitch ourselves back together, by hand, little by little. It needs to be a group effort, compassionate and persistent. We're still somewhat bloodied up on the inside, true, but we know how to heal those wounds now, so they won't scar anymore.
We're doing a great deal of rebuilding. Places, relationships, roles... all of it. It's work. But it's the most worthwhile work there is. There has been great, great progress so far, which is shocking, when we realize it has only been three weeks.
There are few lingering troubles, surprisingly. The ones that have stayed, are old, to the point of us often being "blinded" to them. (You get used to some things after a while, even if they are actively malevolent.) Our tasks now will be healing those.
But the hells of the past several years seem to be gone. And that fills us with more gratitude than we can really express, ever.

It's late, and I don't know what else to say at the moment, other than we are well, and taking small steps forward again.
Thank you, all of you, for your support, even if it is simply watching us and reading. It gives us great hope and joy.
I hope this update is sufficient.
Until next time.

-A.P.

Okay, I've decided something.
I want to integrate. Or, even better, I want everyone else to just not have anything to do with me anymore, without having to kill them or absorb them like some sort of cannibalistic parasite.

In any case, I've realized that I have NO TROUBLES when I am out of headspace, or when nothing forces me to go back there. None!
The entire month of August was brilliant because nobody was around. I had no hacks, it was great. As soon as people started showing up again, boom, here comes the triggers and hypervigilance. I'm tired of that, really.

So yes. I'm going to tell the therapist this if I can. Let's just stop this facade, this game that has no more purpose. You ever wonder why we don't have access to the trauma memories anymore? Because we're not tied to that timeline anymore! However, headspace was created BECAUSE OF IT. So why in the world would I go back there, if it only exists because of trauma? I see no good reason why.

I don't know what happened to Jay, you know, the one with white hair who manned the system from 2011-2013 (the scratch). He's long gone I think. His "family" is gone too, as are all the Upstairs people he worked with, except for Laurie, which is why I stay away from her.
I want all the Undergrounders gone though. All of them. They are all rooted quite firmly in abuse, and that is no longer needed. So they need to be the first to go.

As I said, I will bring this up on Tuesday, before they even start trying to talk about trauma, which is silly because that doesn't happen anymore. Hopefully we can stop going to see the therapist then. Why in the world do we need a therapist, when there is nothing wrong? We're just deluding ourselves into thinking we have a "problem" when OUR mindset is the "problem!"

Bottom line, I want to be alone. Let headspace go away entirely, and let the body just live without freaking out all the time. And let the League work start again, without being tainted by Julie and her ilk. That's not right. This entire headspace situation just fucked up the body's purpose big time. When the body was a child, it worked without fear, without identity. As soon as the hacks started, the work was put on pause. That was practically 11 YEARS AGO!! It's about time we turned our back on this stupid "trauma" nonsense, that WE perpetuated; leave it all in the dust and just pick up where we left off. Seriously.

Also, you probably don't know this as other people don't care, but we technically still don't have internet access. "Well how are you using it now," you say. Easy. We drag the work laptop into the living room and plug it into the router, where we have nowhere to sit and doing so is painful. But isn't that stupid! We're using the WORK COMPUTER to go on the freaking INTERNET and do stupid HEADSPACE stuff!! This is the very definition of corruption!! What idiot decided to do this!! You are bogging down our computer for CREATIVITY with stupid DRAMA. STOP.

Uh-oh, we're losing sight, falling into bad things. Forget about it. DON'T use the word "we" or "us." Don't give them any attention.
So let's stop forcing ourselves to use the internet. Delete everything off this computer that isn't work.
Delete everything in the mind that isn't work, too. Get rid of all the memories that are old and irrelevant now.

Integration, deletion, or oblivion. Those are the only options headspace has left.

I will not update here anymore. This is over.

First things first, I should not be updating here.
However, I told my therapist that I would send her a link to one of my online journals, most likely this one (the full archive is too overwhelming). So I would like to have a short "catchup" post for both her sake and mine.

Matters of business:

1. Headspace is gone. It has been for all of August and this time, it does not seem to be coming back. This is good.
As for how it happened, that was unexpected. Julie and the sage-guy from Downstairs were the first to leave, but either that same day or soon after, Infinitii had some sort of meltdown around 2AM. At that point it was revealed that he was either "infested with a lethal parasite" OR that he was a parasite himself, and had been manipulating the Upstairs for malicious ends since his manifestation in April. I do not know, that night is not accessible to me, I only have vague remainder data. After that, then I can only assume that headspace "imploded," and when the body awoke the next morning headspace was gone and inaccessible.
I would like to point out, rather amusedly, that Julie was both the first to appear, so many years ago, and the first to leave now. She was the reason headspace was forced into existence, and then she bailed as it collapsed around her. I am not blaming her for the latter incident, simply observing the irony of it.

2. The Underground still exists, but just barely. Sugar and Spice are the only ones really lingering. Knife, Razor, Mulberry, and the other major individuals on that level were detected vaguely a few days ago, and their presences have been wavering dramatically since the initial deletion in August: while they are not normally detectable, they are still able to communicate through handwriting, and any loud triggers can still catch their attention. This Underground survival is most likely because their level predates Headspace, and because they exist to fight threats, which still exist in outspace. We are wondering whether or not they can die off fully before the PTSD is healed on the subconscious level. We shall see.

3. The person who is driving now (not me obviously; the fronter is NOT allowed to type or deal with this info) is blissful and working on her/his creative work nonstop. They are incapable of feeling strong emotion, and also have no ability to socialize, due to lacking a self-identity. As such, they are not online anywhere except dA (for creative posting only), and have no plans to be. Speaking to any individuals-- especially those that the now-deceased spinningcannon "befriended" during her brief fronting period years ago-- would likely force headspace to start scraping itself back together, and we would like to avoid that at all costs. Our biggest problem here, though, is that this new fronter has extreme trouble socializing with anyone without headspace trying to re-form. This is no surprise-- ALL the creative fronters in the past have shown a marked inability to interact with other individuals, especially in a direct manner-- but it causes trouble as it makes 'regular' family interaction highly difficult. Those incidents still seem to trigger a sort of rudimentary autopilot program, operating on stock phrases and reactions, but it is no longer entirely automated, and must be consciously perpetuated. Our fronter has expressed that this is very draining as well as disturbing, as it requires him/her to "act" in a way they find both confusing and upsetting. Long story short, they will not be updating here in the future, as they have no capacity to.

4. Last and most worrisome: hacks are still a great danger. There was one attempt last night around 2AM, as usual, and the fronter was conscious enough to drag him/herself out of bed as it was happening. The moment their feet hit the floor, "the hack ended and they were terrified, knowing what had almost just happened to them." Data says they "asked their boss to protect them" which apparently worked. Today, they have expressed concern about the insomnia hacks cause, but they are simply glad that they escaped it, and are giving it no further thought, preferring to continue with their work, their purpose.
In any case, this persistence of hacks is rather disquieting, as they are tied to the Tar, which may or may not still exist (we have no data on it either way). However, since they only happen when it's late enough for our new fronter to "fall out of consciousness," being stuck in the subconscious where headspace is rooted, we are now wondering if hacks and headspace are inherently connected? After all, since it disappeared in early August, we have had barely any troubles, and the ones that have occurred have only done so with a brief resurgence of headspace-related things (either undergrounders speaking up, flashbacks, etc.). In my humble opinion, this seems to suggest that headspace itself is indeed corrupt. So neither I nor our new fronter have any desire to resurrect it, especially because neither of us have experience with it either way (we are reset-born of course).

I suppose all of this is common sense, or self-evident at this point after our having undergone several similar incidents over the years.
Regardless, there it is.

I will express one last thought: it is rather curious, but interesting, how this year seems to have consisted solely of reset and deletion attempts. It was almost as if headspace could not survive after this year, and needed to be dismantled before it did so itself, so to speak-- after all, from what I know, its condition seemed to only be worsening prior to whatever happened in 2011. This is not a bad thing: headspace seems to have been nothing but a negativity sink, perpetuating abuse and drama and pain, and so I am glad to hear that whatever it was, it is done and gone.
The new fronter in the body, who is nameless, faceless, and genderless, is blissfully happy and creating both profusely and at a great rate. I am happy for them, that this one does not have to worry about fighting tooth and nail with headspace for the right to exist.

You may consider this a formal "closing" of this journal, similar to the ones posted in all the previous journals over the years.
The past two Blurtys were closed upon the deaths of their authors. Since whoever was writing this one post-Scratch apparently no longer exists here, I shall close this journal in his absence.

Thank you for reading.
If anything changes, I will update here... but if I may be honest, I hope I never have to do so.

May you be well.

i'm scared

i shouldn't be though

people make scary noises and do scary things

i'm shaking and i want to cry on the inside not the outside

scared to sleep again. dont want to go in there.
what do i do
i cant sleep
not safe
im so tired of this

god im sorry

i wish i had one friend, ONE FRIEND,
who actually cared even if im scary
and would help me somehow

but thats stupid and selfish isnt it
"no one can save you but yourself"

i know

but what if i just want a friend
is that so bad too
is that so selfish to want someone to care
i hate it
i hate myself for even asking
and getting in peoples way
and making them not smile
im sorry
i keep ruining their lives.

i dont want to though.
they just keep telling me i am.

i chased away the one friend
i said go dont let me hurt you more
she said okay and goodbye forever she went
but now im stupid upset because no friends
no one to talk to when scared

"you need a social support group"
i dont know how
how do i do it are they nice?
do they hurt me are they scary
do they listen or just talk at me all the time
do they get angry at me when im scared

why are friends so confusing

ayway thats not important
whats improtant is the fact that im scared and sick
i dont wanna go in there
but im so tired
i want to sleep but i DONT WANT TO GO IN THERE

whre do i go

sorry not supposed to updaet

everything is dead

upstairs is gone, it all dead
dead
gone and dead
so maybe we can work it was working?
but now triggers back cant work.
tahts why im on here
trigger bad make upstairs people talk again
otherwise no

cant sleep want to sleep tired sick scared

goodbye

I am so done.
I really am.

I tried to read some old Xanga entries. Couldn't do it.
Too ridiculous.

Wherever I am in life, whatever cycle this is, headspace is NOT A PART OF IT.

I'm done. For however long this lasts, I'm done.

day one of the third reset attempt.

headspace gone, all inhabitants gone

but the angry super-religious voices are still here
still insisting i need to listen to them
"learn to obey your superiors"

not sure whether or not i should try to erase them too
they say no and get incredibly livid
so i wil ignore them

after all they do not raelly exist.

no one will be in tihs head anymore
it will be empty
it will be empty
it will stay empty

WE DO NOT HAVE ANY DISORDERS
WE ARE COMPLETELY FINE
YOUR TIMELINE DOES NOT APPLY TO THIS LIFE

we WILL be happy
everything WILL be fine
i will be the ONLY person left
NO BODY ELSE.

this is an age of holiness and light
there is no room for "disorder"
there is no space for false things
none of you are real.
none of you are real
you are all false things.
you are nothing but shadows

this is an age of goodness and new beginnings
you simply cannot come along
you do not exist!
you will fade into nothingness.
but that is okay, that is what is meant to be

it is okay
god told me so
god said you are just illusion
you will fade away
i'm okay, and you were never real
there was never anything wrong with me
ever.
which is nice.

i am the only one left
the mind is pure and empty
there is nothing left but me.

this is a new age.

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

@ 06:28 pm

Just stopping by to give an important message to whoever keeps telling the kid these reset attempts are a good idea.

I will end you. Every single bloody one of you who tells him he has no worth apart from you, I will END YOU.

Cheers,

Laurie.

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

@ 06:53 pm

I'm starting to wonder how much of this is possible DID, and how much of this is schizoaffective symptoms instead (one of my actual diagnoses).

It's hard to tell at this point.
The cacophany inside (and outside) my head on a daily basis is getting so overwhelming that I really don't know WHAT is happening anymore.

What we've been calling DID isn't a coping strategy. Yes, many of us have learned to help each other, but that was secondary. This sure as hell didn't start out as beneficial to ANY party, and for the most part it hasn't made our lives any easier since then either.
Does that invalidate our experiences?

The voices don't go away, they don't stop showing up, and a great many of them don't have our best interests at heart.

I just wish I had a clear answer here so I could figure out how to heal.

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

@ 10:59 pm

Knife is so so furious right now.
He just found out that some people actually cut for fun.
Some people actually cut because they think it "feels good."
And then they feel offended that their cuts aren't deep enough.
So they cut more, because they feel fucking victimized.
It's such a huge stupid pity party. What idiots.

Knife is so ticked off. But he doesn't get angry like this.

I DO.

ALL THOSE FOOLS WHO THINK THIS IS JUST A GAME
HAD BETTER THINK AGAIN.

YOU THINK THIS IS FUN????
YOU THINK THE RAZORS AND KNIVES ARE JUST TOYS????
BLEEDING BECAUSE YOU FEEL DEPRESSED OR UGLY OR SOME VAPID THING
CUTTING AND SLASHING BECAUSE "IT HELPS ME COPE"
SHOVE OFF.
YOU'RE ALL IDIOTS.
EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU.

CUTTING ISNT A GAME.
BLEEDING ISNT FOR FUN.
NONE OF THIS IS RECREATIONAL.
SCREW YOU.

THIS BUSINESS ISN'T GLAMOROUS.
IT ISN'T PRETTY AND IT ISN'T FUN.
YOU'RE A BUNCH OF DELUSIONAL MORONS.

YOU DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT BLOOD IS, DO YOU.
YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO CUT
TO BLEED
TO SCAR.
YOU DONT EVEN KNOW.

THIS ISN'T A POPULARITY CONTEST.
THIS ISN'T A BEAUTY PAGEANT.

AND THIS ISN'T A F*CKING GAME.

you poor, poor misguided fools.
you don't even know.

but now a dilemma:
we owe retribution, do we give it now?
or will that be seen as an egotistic rebuttal to their ploys?
do we risk being seen as attention-getting halfwits,
getting sent to the hospital for "manipulative behavior"
(what a joke, i cannot believe people actually do that)
at the cost of moral steadfastness and unquestionable law?

this is our holy ROLE, YOU HEATHENS
HE BLEEDS FOR HIS SINS
THE POISON IS HIS
HE MUST PAY THE TOLL.

YOU F*CKING CHINA DOLLS DONT KNOW SHIT.

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

@ 11:12 pm

It's so hot in this house, oh my goodness.

Hello by the way, this is Jay, legit this time, haha. White hair and rainbows as per usual of course.

I heard someone tried to kill the system? Well, I didn't quite "hear" it, y'know, but the data is there. "Someone tried to reset us last night." No idea who, or when really, I don't really have an opinion on it, that's not my job! I'm just super-happy that I get to come out today because geez, someone got really mad five minutes ago but now that they're done with whatever, I get to front, and everything is great. Which is good!

I never have negative emotions really. I guess that's my reason for being here. When I come out the whooole System fills with love and light, you know. Lots of it. I can just sit here and smile and nothing's wrong with the world and it's great.
Except there is. Well, according to others, at least. They worry too much. Where's worrying going to get you? Nowhere, I say. It's tough, getting over that, but really all you have to realize is that everything works out.
Maybe it's just my perspective. After all, I am the White side of the balance in this System, along with Infinitii, who's Black. But it's a good position to look at the world from. From the middle, you can see both sides, and when you can see that, you realize that there's not really any side at all. Everything just kind of is. And it's nice, to realize that, when everyone else is worrying and panicking because if you bring that into a room, they kind of calm down. If you're able to stand there and see the light that's in the darkness because the light IS the darkness in a way, beyond our normal comprehension of course, well, it rubs off. It gets into the air. People can feel that, if it's there. And it is!

Sorry, I haven't fronted in a while. I don't even think I'm fronting! Being in the body is so disorienting for me that I'm just talking here and telling the AP to transcribe my words for me. It's doing a good job! Good job there, AP. I knew I could count on you.
So I'm in the head, and it's in the hands, typing out my words which I'm saying in ways that aren't sounds, haha this probably sounds ridiculous to you guys. You've never actually heard me talk, have you? Heh, I'd be surprised if you have!

But it is hot in here. And the body has a headache but I can't exactly feel it you know, 'cause I'm not in it. I'm up here!
Really though this is making me think about my role in the System a lot. And how I had to move out of Red and leave that whole old life behind. Because I'm supposed to be untouched. I'm supposed to be this focal point of the System, ths rallying point of light that everyone can look up to, that's unaffected by the trauma, no scars, no blood... not like the Red slot I used to be in, of course. Geez, that was so much blood I don't know how I did it. Don't remember, of course, but the facts are there, haha. It's funny how that works!

Where am I? I really have no idea where I am, it's probably some sort of floating headspace room I think. AP you're not even here, are you? I'm talking to a point in space. Kind of like a camera screen. And you're down there! Haha, sorry, I guess I'm not fronting at all, my apologies. I have trouble figuring this stuff out yet.

Buuut I've gotta go to bed, or at least the body does. I guess we all do, 'cause we can't exactly front when we're asleep. I'm just glad we're not dead, because if we really got that close last night-- phew! Talk about a close call! I'll have to make sure that doesn't happen again. I think they pulled the off switch. Not sure how, or where, obviously, but I think that's what they did. It feels like it. I'm gonna have to make sure they can't do that again either. Don't know where they found it... huh. Don't know who they are... don't mind me, I'm just walking around and mumbling, AP is probably typing it all down. Are you? Haha, yeah, he is.

Okay man, you've done a good job, that's enough. I've gotta go. See you guys later!

I can't do relationships anymore.
I can't.

There was a severe hack last night that is the last straw for a few reasons:
1. The person responsible insisted it was a "good thing."
2. I am being forbidden all access to the memories.
3. It happened after 1AM. I COULDN'T FIGHT BACK IF I WANTED TO.
4. I woke up with severe pain, fatigue, and depression.
5. Genesis tried to talk to me today and I had no desire to even look at him.

Most notably though? The Lower sub-System has been fronting for 90% of today. When they front, I am a "non-entity," as I do not have a space in their realm. So I can "see" things passively, but I do not exist as an individual while they are out.

I can't do it. I cannot do this.
I want NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THEM ANYMORE.

Today, I legitimately considered "divorcing" Chaos, for lack of a better term. Could I ask him to leave, and take Xenophon with him, I wondered? Could I just stop being a partner and a father? Because I want to.
Could I tell Genesis that our time is over, sorry but we can't see each other anymore, stop trying so hard to "fix me," just go back home and live the life you were supposed to, far away from me? Because I want to.
Could I tell Ryman and Markus to move back out, I don't want the past chaining me down anymore, I don't want the memories of a life that wasn't even mine trying to eat me alive through you both? Because I want to.
Could I tell Infinitii that I don't care what he's supposed to be, I don't want the reality of what he is hanging around my neck like a noose, I don't want that blackness poisoning me, even if it's from him? Because I want to.

The only person I don't quite want to leave is Laurie, because there was a point when she was safe.
Once upon a time, a long long time ago, she was dangerous, she was cruel, she was bloodied and brutal and she spat nothing but fire and judgment at me. She was distant and cold and electric like steel and swords and she was perfect.

When none of them can touch me, they are angels. When they can't see or reach me, when they don't even know about me, they are beautiful, beloved things.

The moment they look at me, I want to run, I want to delete them from my memory, I want them to go away.

The moment they try to... to... I don't want to think about it.
When they do that, I want to die.

I can't do this anymore. Maybe the lowers can front forever. They know what they're doing.

I like Sugar. She reminds me of Laurie used to be. She's vicious and caustic and clever and she doesn't let anyone fool her. I will never love her, because that will ruin her. I'm just glad someone like that is in our system again.
Knife is good too. He punishes people who don't listen. He punishes the people who commit unforgivable sins, the dark corrupted ones that leave pitch-black stains in our soul. He makes them atone for their crimes.
And Razor is the best of all. She does not care either way. She does not like or love or swear allegiance or get blinded by affection. She exists only to make me bleed, to cut deep into tar-clogged veins, to get the poison out.

i don't want to be close to anyone anymoer
not when everything is stained and ugly and painful and horrible
im so sick god im so sick of this make it stop, please please please
he says its a good thing, she says its a bad thing
some people say its both but i know thats not possible.
something like that cannot be both, or it will become neither
and when it is neitehr it shows just how empty and awful it truly us
mmake it stop make it stop please.
please.
i dont want it anymore
i never wanted it
they lied to me for so long i forgot what i wanted
i forgot what it was like to feel safe
i was so used to being scared
that one day the emotions just went away
and i gave up
but i dont want to do this anymore
i want it to stop
it hurts
god it hurts make it stop
i dont want this
tell them to stop
tell them to make it stop

This happened once, long ago, last year, I remember. Vaguely.
How long have we been trying to "heal this?"
Can it be healed? Should it be healed?

I want to leave everyone.

Would we survive a third reset?
Could we do that?
The thought is so exciting. I know how to do it too.
I know exactly how I would do it. I won't tell anyone.
I'll have someone keep it secret, a deep locked secret.
I know how to reset this world a third time.
I would just need to focus. Focus, focus focus.
Delete ONLY the relationships.
Start over and... boom, no one wants to do that thing anymore.
all gone. safe. no more pain and lies and frightening things.
lots of people would have to leave maybe
maybe some people would die
it would be sad but would it be worth it?
i think so
maybe
if no one would bleed anymore
maybe
if the corrupted white and black would go away
god its so scary
maybe
maybe its worth the risk of dying.
i wouldn't mind

after all if the reset wouldnt kill us
our own sins will

I don't want any of this to be real anymore.

Can't I just turn it off? Can't I just erase everything and ignore that it ever happened? Can't they all just disappear or something?

I don't want to deal with this every day anymore.

I don't want any more alters. No more. Go away. Stop talking to me.
I don't want to be "triggered" and I don't want to be losing time and I don't want the constant cacophany between my ears.

I never had a life because of you. All of you. You ruined it. Go away.

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

@ 12:43 am

dear god:

please kill everyone else upstairs thank you 

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

@ 02:47 pm

Christina and Jess really need to stop finding their way onto this page when they're fronting (however that happens).

Yes, they're responsible for the previous two posts.
I want to delete them but I know they'll get furious with me if I do, so until I find somewhere else to put them, they have to stay here. I don't know if the Lowers would want those on their blog... I doubt it though.

Laurie and Knife gave me a message last night to post here on their behalf, telling the girls exactly why what they're doing is "fucked up" and completely uncalled for, but honestly that would just be more capslock and rage and I don't have the heart to yell at anyone right now, even if it's warranted.

I just want to say that those two girls are not welcome here. Sorry about that.

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

@ 03:10 pm

TRACK 45 (mid-july 2013)

(Josephina) Okay, this is Josephina, can I take some notes Jewel, please. …Fine, J, whatever; I'm just trying to figure out a name and that's kinda why I'm updating on this thing right now.. We're going through a bit of a crisis, I'm not really fronting very well I've gotta go through the Autopilot but I gotta take notes. Alright. As of yesterday, someone showed up in the system, apparently their name is CHRISTINA? Now the reason why that's a problem is not just because it sounds like my name, which is Josephina, but because, she's lilac in color. That used to be mine. And remember when I showed up in 2010, do you remember how? *short sigh* How I first showed up to J, y'know, that-- regrettable incident there? W-well, I really wasn't… the main person responsible, for that… there was a girl with really long blonde hair, n' we all thought it was me, and I thought it was me, and… I don't know. J said it was somebody else, that I was… that I was, y'know, fronting for him in, in that, and so. we never really realized that whoever this blonde woman was, wasn't Julie, who was it? And, now that we're really thinking about it, we thought it was one of those two promiscuous girls who are downstairs that J is so afraid of and that scare the little kids, I mean I-I'm still trying to get over the fact that we've got little kids in the system, like how did I not even know about that? Like I-- how did any of us not even know about that? It's crazy! There's little kids, in the System, and then we've got these older women that aren't Julie, and that aren't Jezebel, an-and there's, there's-- aaagghh, I don't even know but its-- the reason why I'm so mad is because of this Christina person though. You're probably wondering who she is? Well remember how we used to call someone the "lilac killer girl?" This-this-this-this girl with really long, lilac hair and she seemed to be some sorta "spiritual waif" person, and she really got on my nerves, 'cause she kept wishin' that everyone else upstairs would die? N'the reason why that annoys me is not just because she's wishing all of us are dead, but because I happen to be the Grim Reaper? But more specifically I'm the Id Reaper, which means I'm the one that cuts down all the subconscious idiots, like her? And the problem is, she seems to be, y'know… not only does she seem to be… y'know, usurping that role and everything, but she seems to be, like… m-me n' her, were… created from the same thing. N' that's why I'm really worried, because, um… *dry laugh* Well, way back in 2010, we didn't know that's how this kind of stuff worked? But, if she was born from that, same thing that I was born from, like this-this thing with… I don't know. I really don't know what I anchored to, I anchored originally to checking facts and making sure things were-- it is really hot in this car. But-- man, I can't front very well! Y'get the point. There's this Christina person that wants us all to die, and she's lilac, and she seems to be my counterpart in the Lower System and this is really scary and I don't like it bye.

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

@ 10:24 pm

I'm on the Arvee avatar generator trying to make representations for some lower system members, and I forgot how much I love this thing!

You probably wonder why I make these avatars for new system members before I even attempt drawing them. The reason for that is easy: it is often difficult for me to see things literally upstairs, but it is very easy for me to feel how they look. Meaning, I KNOW how they look, intuitively, but I couldn't describe it to you in words or through art. However, if you give me something like an avatar generator, with hundreds of different, premade appearance pieces-- hairstyles and eye colors and things-- I can easily piece together an avatar that looks as close to their appearance as I can get with what I'm given. See?

So this is good. I just did one for Mulberry and I'm trying to find Knife's hairstyle in here. Next will be Razor, then the overload girl, and the little blue-haired boy (they're the clearest).
The problem is, a lot of the "faceless" voices downstairs are just that--faceless! Like the airplane guy, Sherlock, and the Gent (who decided to dress the body this evening, which resulted in me suddenly finding myself wearing grey slacks in a car in 100 degree weather. Sir, you can't wear dress pants all the time). They exist clearly as beings, but they don't have bodies yet. I have no idea if there's anything we can do to help them form them, or not. Typically it just "happens" when they're ready. Maybe that's all that needs to happen here, we'll see.
Speaking of, the red voice guy hasn't manifested yet either. He feels really, really unsure about his appearance. The only thing he seems to have decided on for sure is his hair-- it looks very close to this, I think? very unique-- and the fact that he has ear gauges (he saw horns like this once and immediately wanted them). But I know he's actually having this weird inner conflict over skin tone, of all things? Our entire system has lighter skin tones because that's what the consciousness had available to anchor to (we unfortunately lived in a very racist community as a child). So people don't have real access to darker tones, as that's tied to so much social and psychological stuff that we don't know about, it would be hard to carry it in a "neutral environment" (i.e. there's no culture or genetics here, so skin tone is literally just a different color) without people outside of headspace claiming appropriation or something. I don't know, it's weird.
But the red guy keeps feeling like he wants to have darker skin, FOR that reason? Example: my grandparents were making some very racist comments earlier and HE got angry! I guess because he'd deal with Red, which is survival and safety and life and that stuff, he's said that he feels "obligated" to protect the rights and safety of everyone upstairs, and he hates hearing things like that in the outer life, even if they don't affect us directly. And I KNOW for a fact that a good deal of that feeling is actually thanks to Jeremiah?? Because he actually has a mid-tone skin color, which surprised me at first, and he's been badly abused. And in the outer reality, people who "aren't white" do have a higher risk of being abused, from what statistics I've seen. So when the red guy heard about that, he got furious, because Jeremiah is such a sweetheart-- he spends most of his time protecting the kids downstairs, for heaven's sakes, although he's almost chronically terrified of what lurks in the shadows himself. And I know the red guy really, really wants to help protect him-- and everyone downstairs, I think?-- in return. But he feels torn about what he knows of the outer world, because I guess being Red he's closer to it than anyone else in Central? And that's significantly affecting his appearance manifestation, so he's hesitating.
I wish I knew what to do, but I have no clue; I have no personal knowledge to aid with this. Hm.

Speaking of anchors, I don't know if I want to make Subeta avatars for Jezebel, Jessica, or Christina. I don't want to give them any more anchorage than they've already managed to steal for themselves. Focusing that much on their faces just feels wrong. I don't want to risk it.
Geez. Who would've thought that one day RAZOR would be closer to being "on our side" than they would? Not me, that's for sure.

On a lighter note, I need to mention this-- on the way home from the library today, I forget what provoked it, but Laurie was joking that "Knife doesn't leave the Underground because if he did, he'd start sparkling." I think it was because Knife is very clandestine about his existence yet, and Laurie figured that if he did sparkle (God forbid) it would be the final nail in the coffin for his attempts to stay secret. (Yes, pun intended, I couldn't resist.)
Knife had no idea what we were talking about, but he was getting a little anxious over the possibility of such an inconcealable appearance quirk, which just made the whole thing even funnier. Sorry dude!

All right, Laurie's telling me to get back to work, so I will. See you guys.

As of last night no one exists anymore 
They were only born because they couldn't let go of the past 
So I let go of everything 
Now I'm free 

I just finished Off.
What a spectacular game.

I'm still in emotionless mode, but there was one little second in the last scene where I thought I was going to cry-- the silent tearing-up kind, not the sobbing kind. So it found a chink in my armor. I didn't tear up, but I found that sudden possibility noteworthy.

"You have not purified this place. You have destroyed, eradicated it. You have immersed it into a pristine nothingness."
"It's better like that."

How marvelously depressing, that I would identify so strongly with the destroyer of worlds.

"Taste my holy wrath, corrupt souls...
I'm here to make you atone for your sins."

This is my current favorite picture of The Batter and Hugo.
I think it's obvious as to why.

I keep thinking back to February 24th... or whenever it was... the incomplete "scratch." My attempt at setting the switch of my reality to "OFF."
It didn't work then, not entirely.
I don't know if I should try again.
"Should" is the key word.

Infinitii's necklace came in the mail today.
I don't even remember who he is.

I don't remember a lot of things.

I'm very tired. The angry voices won't be quiet.
I feel as if I'm drowning in a sea of righteous rage.
I feel as if I deserve every single punishment I bring upon myself.
All the blood, all the pain, all of the despair... it is all delivered justly.

I'm the one swinging the baseball bat, insisting on my holy role,
when in fact, I'm the one who needs purification most of all.

Bis Vincit, Qui Se Vincit In Victoria.

Okay, update two for today because I just remembered several things I forgot to talk about what with the insanity that has been life lately.

First, although I'm settling quite nicely into this post-scratch timeline, I've realized a problem. Stuff from the old timeline is lingering, in places where energy sticks.
Yes, our past actions and history were "deleted" when the scratch-reset occurred, but they still happened, and their consequences still echo through space and time.
Tumblr contributed to this realization too, with a post I just saw on my dashboard concerning Doctor Who: "it’s just been The Doctor solving all the problems encountered by simply resetting the universe so that none of said problems happened or ever will happen, but everyone conveniently remembers the events prior to the reset anyway."
Sandman warned me about all of that. He said that even if I deleted my personal timeline, it would "still exist" in that vague sense, and it would also be accessible to those who knew how to reach it... and I do have a Doctor-esque fellow actively trying to reconstruct our past-life after it was torn to shreds.
Don't get me wrong, I love my boss to death, but the fact that no one would let me permanently die just ticks me off.
Why in the world else would I go through all of that psychological torment to sever myself from headspace?? I was trying to get a "game over." I DIDN'T WANT TO CONTINUE.
But, apparently I was "supposed to." My dying in the scratch attempt wasn't something that could happen, apparently.
Then again, that's what I was talking about in this entry...

And then there's the glaring yet astounding fact that other people didn't want me to die.
I never factored that concept into my decision. It really didn't even cross my mind.
I wanted to die, to fade away forever, and I didn't care whether or not people would miss me. I still don't.
I still lie awake at night, praying for it to happen again, that this time I would be wiped out when the record broke, that this time I would fade away when the second hand stopped moving. I pray that, this time, no one will come back for me, and I can finally fade away into oblivion.
But every time, I remember what I was told.
"Child, you don't understand the extent of what you have just tried to do."
For some dumb reason I'm supposed to live. I don't understand why. Apparently it's important. Apparently I'm important.
All I know for sure is that I'm sick of being a narcissist and I hate being important already.
I don't want to screw up, and take everyone else down with me.

Anyway. That's enough of that.

In other news, I was forced to log back into my series-based dA account lately, because extra-fenix was selling commissions and I used my last $5 to buy THIS for Xenophon for her birthday.

Why yes, that is her, as a Chao.
I absolutely could not pass up that opportunity. It was too perfect.

I do need sleep though, and I need to try and fix whatever the heck in me caused that depressive meltdown just now.
Plus headspace is just... insane, lately. I still don't know whether or not I should continue my huge "go back and review + document everything" project concerning my old entries, because that takes up a lot of time and effort, and it wears me out. Still, it may be required, what with all the old things resurfacing.

I don't know. It just doesn't seem worth it, some days.
I mean... one of the biggest reasons why I tried to scratch everything to pieces on the 24th was so that I could work on my series again. Unfortunately the scratch attempt itself was so psychologically harrowing that I couldn't work for that first week, at all, and that weekend was when my boss suddenly appeared and was all "dude that was not cool," albeit in much more Sandman-y language.
But, since then, I really haven't worked on my "work" at all... and part of it is actually because (once again) I'm sick of being "important." Part of me is actually sick and tired of everyone asking me "oh, have you done any drawings lately?" "are you still writing music?" "you need to get your book published!"
Stop. Please, just stop. THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME.
I've said it a thousand times and I will say it again: I only do this work because I was TOLD TO. I was given dreams and visions and all sorts of other messages telling me "you're the only person that can write our story down."
And you know what? Now, I honestly wish that I could give that honor to someone else.
I really wish I could just watch those stories unfold, instead of being in them. I love seeing other people get involved in the story. I love seeing their joy in reading and becoming part of it. What I DON'T love is being forced to be the "focal point" of all that simply because I'm the "author."
I would rather just be part of the crowd, loving those stories just as much as the next guy.
I don't know. I really don't know what to do here. I've lost all sense of purpose in my life; it feels utterly meaningless and I am literally counting the days until I just don't wake up anymore. I can't see my future like I used to when I first started to move into the White slot, back when I split my identity for that purpose. Maybe I should do that again.

Here's another thought. I just stumbled across a video on Youtube with a hero and sidekick pair, and the sidekick literally did EVERYTHING the hero told him to, without complaint, even at the risk of his own health or well-being.
I want to be like that, so badly. I want to be so selfless that I don't give a thought to what I'd "like or dislike" in any situation. I want to be able to suffer through hell and back if someone asks me to, without looking back even once, and doing the whole damn thing over again in a heartbeat if they weren't happy with my efforts the first time.
I want to be a nobody. I don't want an identity at all. I don't want a self. I don't want individuality or wants or needs or preferences or opinions, and I sure as hell don't want some godforsaken black tar shit insisting to the contrary.

Right now, I'm going to sleep, and forget everything.

Look who's running off again
Stupid useless aging wreck

But he will live this life
On his own time
On his own time

All their daggers have his name
But he loves them all the same

And he will live this life
On his own time
On his own time

We all circle back on decisions we made
Discover we're in crisis yet again

It's only your life
It's only your life
It's only your life
It's only your life

...I keep thinking of what Homura said to Madoka, in that whitespace room, full of snapshots of shared time only her heart remembered.

“Each time I repeat all of this, the time you and I live grows further apart…our feelings grow further apart, and my words stop reaching you.”

She could've taken the words right out of my own mouth. It aches.

I used to wonder whether I show more similarities to Homura or Madoka, in light of the strangeness of my life so far. Lately, I've been wondering again. Time resets, becoming witches, wishes being twisted, hope being restored... there are too many parallels all over the place.

Regardless of which girl reflects me the most, though, that scene-- when Homura throws her arms around her friend, weeping under the grievous weight of self-shattered memories-- hits me so close to home it hurts. It's one of my biggest and most secret fears... that eventually, I will end up just as tangled in broken timelines as Homura, trapped in a fading life where my desperate attempts to save the lives of those I love only succeed in making them forget why I am fighting for them at all... I am afraid I lost myself a long time ago.
And yet, despite all my fears, I already know how this will end.

If someone tells me that it's wrong to hope, I'll tell them they're wrong every time.

Maybe that's why Boss keeps saying I'm important.

It's a frightening but humbling thought.

...

...I know I've been trying to figure out what my metainomen "element" is lately, and everyone's been debating between Time and Blood what with my darker character lately... but I never considered that maybe they're the same thing at heart.
...I tried to reset the headspace timeline, last month. Again. I wanted to start it all over from scratch.

I was willing to erase everything if it would heal those scars, if it would erase all those mistakes. I tried to run time backwards, to get rid of the blood. I thought that, if I could become that perfect, flawless version of myself, even if it meant annihilating the person I had become, then no one else would ever have to suffer. But…

...This is so much bigger than just me. We're a SYSTEM. Everyone else in here MATTERS, and a heck of a lot more than me objectively. But the awful paradox is this: we only exist because of trauma. Isn't that just the worst best thing? We're all the result of the mistakes we made and endured; we were all created as coping mechanisms in the face of imminent death. Even me.

Even my daughter.

That's what I can't stop reeling over. She wouldn't exist if I hadn't bled out my life into that sink. If that room hadn't become encapsulated hell for too many consecutive years it never could have been transmuted into the NICU of heaven, apparently. It makes no sense. But it happened.

The Resurrected Christ still carries His scars.
We're the ones that wounded Him so.
But they were necessary for such a Savior.

"Oh happy fault..." sings the Exsultet.

All our past wounds, even the self-inflicted ones, have left scars on our collective life.
I've been trying to die in order to erase them. I wanted to rip time to ribbons in order to expunge all the blood.
I didn't realize that would take my daughter with it.

...

I don't know. I really don't. I don't know what's the paradoxical truth and I sure don't know what the heck is the right thing to do here.
...No, I do. As much as it makes me want to weep and scream from bitter agony, I... I cannot keep trying to take a magnet to the tape. I can't be scratching all the discs. I can't be pouring bleach over the manuscript. I cannot be pressing "delete" on my own soul, on our heart.
As much as I hate to admit it when I'm in this much pain, I do love them too much to do that to them.

Somehow, all the nightmares were necessary. God knows how. But I look at Laurie, and Julie, and Leon... I can't forget where we came from. I can't forget about them. They're the big picture, not my personal regrets.

...I want to kiss these scars, someday, even knowing that they're graves. God only knows how. But... I need to have hope.

Blood, Time, Hope, Heart... somehow I really am all of those things, in one way or another. I think they're all the same thing in the end.

...Somehow it's all love.

17 March 2013 @ 12:39 am

alone

Some nights, all I really want is a friend. But I shove people away whenever they try to get close. I'm not good with closeness yet.

Maybe it's because I grew up in the woods, with no neighbors or friends, always the outcast in school. I quite literally do not know how to interact with others now that I'm technically an adult.
All my past attempts at friendship have ended in utter failure, almost always with the words "we can't deal with you anymore." I understand, it's okay. My mess of a personality is hell for anyone to deal with and I'd never consciously inflict myself upon someone.
But it's so damn frustrating to want a friend, just one friend outside of headspace, when I am acutely uncomfortable with both relationships and people in the first place.

Don't know why I'm mumbling about this again. It'll be gone in the morning, don't worry.

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

17 March 2013 @ 02:01 am

backwards

oh no no no I just realized why this temporal reset has been so traumatic

god help us that's ten years out the freaking window how did i not realize what that meant in the big picture

but boss wouldn't let me die, i tried TWICE and he refused to let me die, why the hell wouldn't he, look at what i've done to all of them

gotta figure this out somehow. gotta stitch things together maybe

if ten years are gone though, she's still reachable, and if anyone up here knows how to weave time back together it's her

don't listen to me at 2 in the morning please, i don't even know why i update here anymore

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

17 March 2013 @ 02:03 am

sinner

my grandmother just spit my name at me again
i asked her why she hated me so much

she actually gave me an answer this time

no denial

just perfect justification

and then more and more lines of poisonous diatribe

i am so sorry that i made you hate me

i am so sorry that you literally view me as a demon

i am so sorry that you have repeatedly said how evil i am

whenever you're half-asleep and your words are uncensored

dear god please let me sleep forever
i don't want to wake up anymore

i am so sorry that i am such a cancer to the world

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

17 March 2013 @ 01:10 pm

slut

i tried to talk to celebi last night
i tried and tried and tried
we were doing pretty well

and then she melted into tar

and it laughed, it laughed, it laughed
"don't you remember, bitch???
when did you first see me up here???"

and it's true
i don't know where the hell she came from

on january 4th last year, i abandoned my old 'gaia' misnomer
the one that had been inflicted upon me
and adopted my new one, of cupid
by the twelfth, i was no longer "celebi"
a childish name i had carried for a decade

suddenly a celebi appeared in my headspace
an individual i had never known nor seen before
she wasn't the celebi i had known since my youth
she claimed she was 'from the movies'
i thought okay, sure, whatever

and by the 17th she had destroyed me.

last night the tar-black celebi had mocked me
grinning and jeering at how blind i was

"you didn't suspect anything when you saw me in the tar spire??"
laughing and laughing and laughing
all the while trying to steal my life away.

this morning i tried to say hello to ryou
it went okay for a while
didn't feel genuine, everything was empty, i told him

and then he grinned
and there was the tar
laughing

"i thought i had you this time!"

i don't want to see anyone right now

This evening was quite a struggle.

I just found this online:
"A blocked [orange energy center] with too little energy running through it is often tied to childhood trauma and abuse. You may feel unloved and unworthy, be shy and timid, immobilized by fear, overly sensitive, clingy or in contrast isolated, and burdened by undeserved guilt and shame. You may be repressed emotionally and sexually, inhibited, frigid or impotent. You may not be able to connect emotionally with others or form true intimate relationships. You may stuff your emotions down with food, and so they build up under the surface. You may feel overwhelmed - that you cannot allow yourself to feel your emotions, because your emotional well is full and just one more will cause the well to overflow, the dam to burst, and all hell to break loose."
Now if that isn't the most horribly accurate thing I've read about me in ages I don't know what is.

To be blunt, I'm just staring at my computer screen right now, not feeling anything, just thinking.
How long have I been dealing with this? Even after I tried countless times to utterly obliterate my personal history, why has this lingered? Looking at it now, I know exactly why.
Even after I have forgiven Julie completely, I have not forgiven myself.

"I" had a meltdown earlier, obviously, in the entry before this one. Sickeningly, though, there's always a very stupid paradox occurring in those entries. They ramble on about how much I loathe having a physical form, a name, a face, et cetera... and yet the only reason why I publicize those entries is to hopefully catch the eye of someone who cares. I will be blunt and admit that yes, the "I" who writes those wants attention. They want people to pay a LOT of attention to them, something they've never really experienced, something they want desperately and yet hate themselves for it.
I really do hate the part of myself that wants attention, because it's markedly narcissistic. It's stupid and childish, and yet it's real. My mother and grandmother-- my two parental figures-- have never paid attention to me. The latter will literally interrupt me mid-sentence to talk to herself about something completely unrelated, effectively telling me that my speech is not wanted. The former will only say "uh-huh" at random intervals with obvious boredom, never making eye contact, often standing with her back to me and multitasking. If I were to ask her for feedback or advice, she would snap at me angrily and demand "why do you expect me to have all the answers??" I don't. I just want someone to care.
This is probably why I adore Laurie. I could literally go to her and start hissing and spitting about the blackest parts of my psyche, utterly unhinged and hateful, and she will watch me like a hawk with rapt attention, waiting until I finished to suddenly fire back with an intelligent response-- one that does not tiptoe around problems or try to soothe me, even if it's 95% guesswork. She tells it like it is, as bluntly as possible, but she cares.
It's also why I couldn't stand conversations in SLC. The people there were all so wishy-washy when it came to discussions like that. I'd never get a hard response. Everything was always "oh I don't want to talk about this because it might stir up negative feelings" or "why don't you talk to someone else about it?" or "I have troubles just as bad as yours BUT heaven forbid I mention them outright." I never felt like they were listening, even if they literally sat and did so for hours, because there were never any responses, and there was so little openness. So much happened outside of my awareness with them, so much was hidden or only hinted at, that I felt utterly cut off from them as individuals, like they didn't trust me at all. But let's ignore that, it's over and done with. Anyway, If I don't get legitimate feedback from listeners, not just a shallow "that's nice" or "thanks for sharing," I feel as if I were completely ignored. I feel worthless and burdensome, like talking at all was sinful, like my words simply weren't worth caring about.
Really, all I want is for someone to start questioning me after I question them, and not in vague ways like "how can i help" or "are you okay," which usually just make things worse as I am badly confused by general questions. Really, that post I just wrote? If I suddenly got a message from a reader saying something like "all right, i may not understand your situation now, but i'd like to. can you elaborate on why you don't like having a name?" I would be utterly grateful. If they told me that THEY had similar experiences, and then spoke about those, I'd be twice as thankful! Then we have common ground. As long as I can reply back with empathy AND questions of my own, with them willing to do the same, we're cool.
But it's stupid, stupid, stupid. I have no freaking right to ask for such total attention. I have no right to demand that people care about me as obsessively as I care about others. It's stupid, it's selfish, and it's immature. I don't even WANT the attention or care, in the sense that I WILL reject it as soon as it is given, hating the fact that it requires me to exist.
Still, it's a problem that I still find myself fighting.

That, right there, is huge red danger sign numero uno: the word "problem."
As you know, I flip between two extremes with that word. I either consider my "problems" to be real, painful, and deserving of my total attention towards healing them, OR I consider them fake and nonexistent. If I am in "healing" mode, I will ONLY think about healing them. This drove everyone in SLC crazy, but they couldn't understand. These "problems" I battle, when they surface, are so freaking painful that I cannot help but give them my complete attention. The dysphoria, the lingering trauma, the screaming void in my chest and stomach, the burning rage in my bones and teeth, the tar dripping from my skull, DO NOT GO AWAY. When I am conscious of them, they overwhelm me, and I fight desperately to heal them, to fix things, to seek advice from others. Problem was, when I did that, I would often be told "stop complaining about those stupid things" or "all you ever do is selfishly talk about yourself" in a verbal or nonverbal way (although not in those words obviously, and maybe not even at all-- I honestly do not remember). So what would I do? I'd shut down. I'd completely shut off and pretend that I was a blank slate, as happy as a mannequin with a painted smile, allowing myself to be puppeteered as they wished, for fear of becoming a "bad person" if I dared to bring attention to myself or my "problems" (god forbid). But those problems would fester, quickly becoming cancerous, and the more I ignored them, the more voraciously they would eat me alive.
So I flip-flop constantly. I cannot tell which action is the wisest. Do I accept that all pain is illusion, nothing but a falsehood, and wash my hands of all my past hurts forever-- even though I've tried that multiple times, most notably on the 24th of last month, and yet my psyche is only getting darker in spite of it all? Or do I dare to suggest that I am suffering, and call attention to those selfish hurts, asking for the help I no longer have the strength to supply myself-- even though doing so destroys my friendships, turns my family against me, and all but confirms that I am a narcissistic jerk?
I'm rather lost right now, as usual... but I want to find the right answer here, once and for all. I want a clear-cut, unquestionable answer. Is option one or option two the most righteous path? Which behavior would be the purest one, the wisest one? And which one would be the ego-driven one, the blindest one?
I surrender, and I apologize, freely admitting my own lack of wisdom and truth. I am indeed blind and deaf, as I have been told. I cannot tell which is the correct choice. I do not wish to be such a stain on the world anymore. Please, give me an answer, so I can move past this, and stop being such a shameful excuse for a human being.

I haven't forgiven myself. This is the oldest and most difficult challenge I face.
I have also figured out why I can't do it, and it's very simple. When I see wise people online, they speak of how all humans have a true spirit, and an ego trying to hide that spirit. Most of humanity right now is being run by ego. Individuals all over the world are running on that program, so to speak, but their "real self"-- their incorruptible God presence-- still exists, pure and untouched, beneath that shadow, just waiting for the ego to be recognized as false so that it can shine above it once more. Because of this, loving and forgiving others is the easiest thing in the world! If we are all One, if we are all truly bright and beautiful things no matter what we seem to be on the surface, then how could one possibly treat another unkindly?
That's where the incongruity comes in. "If that's true, then why don't you see that in yourself?" you ask.
Simple... because in my mind, I am permanently split between forgiveness and eternal damnation. When I am in the "I have no problems" mindset, I am kind and loving, but at the expense of not being able to function as an individual. I cannot interact with others, I cannot even talk. Once attention is given to my "self," I frequently fall back into the "I do have problems that need to be healed" mindset, and since those problems are a result of my selfish and cruel nature, I cannot forgive myself because I AM the problem. Forgiving myself would annihilate my self and leave only the "everything is perfect" mindset-- the real me. But then I would be unable to function in this world.
And I am the ONLY person on the PLANET that this lack of forgiveness applies to, as I am the only person living this life so shamefully.
Confusing as hell, isn't it?
The worst part is that I WANT to be in that "nothing is wrong, ever" state of mind forever... but for some godforsaken reason, my doing so does not literally burn away the old pain. The only way to do that would be to kill myself... to become unreal, nonexistent, invisible... my biggest and most fervent wish. But I can't do that in this world, can I? No, I need to have a name and face and body and role in society and it ticks me off. So, as long as people insist on acknowledging the fact that I "exist" in 3D space, I cannot seem to escape these problems.
There's a fine line... if I walked into a classroom and the people saw me, or at least knew I was there, BUT continued to ignore me and pay no attention to me as if I didn't exist, it would hurt like hell and (I hate to admit it) make my childishly stupid ego angry enough to probably start crying, believing that this meant no one found my existence worthy of caring about, because of my inherent evilness. HOWEVER! If I walked into a classroom and no one knew I was there, being utterly unaware of my existence, I would be the happiest man on the planet. See the difference?
So yeah, consider my associations with "time"-- through constantly trying to erase it-- as ironically embraced. In the end, all time brings the end of things. Let it bring the end of me even while I "live". Let me become death. Let me cease to exist. I'd prefer it.
I would gladly suffer eternal death if it meant that every other soul that ever existed could reach enlightenment. Put all that corruption in me, I deserve it for being such a horrible thing, and then kill me. Kill me, please. Burn me and destroy me and erase me from the very fabric of spacetime. Just don't damn anyone else for what I've done wrong, because in my eyes, it is ALL my fault.
We're off topic though.
Bottom line: right now, I CAN forgive myself but ONLY if I DO NOT EXIST, as this would annihilate everything but my true spirit self. IF I DO EXIST, I CANNOT forgive myself because this then insinuates that I AM AN EGO, and therefore a false, inherently corrupted, and selfish joke of an identity that deserves only to be utterly annihilated for the sake of the greater good. You cannot forgive something that doesn't even exist, after all.
I want to be good. In my eyes, I cannot be good if I have problems, as this suggests a corrupted nature and sense of self. Therefore, not having a sense of self is the only way for me to be good.

I think I need to see a therapist. I've been trying to find a new one for months now but no progress has been made yet. I am trying to get names and phone numbers from several people, so that's a start.
Just... what the hell do I tell them? If they ask me (as they always do), "so what brings you here?" The HONEST reply would be, "I don't know; I don't have any problems so I honestly have no clue why I'm here!" If I were to respond, "well, I was abused in my youth, I have severe body/gender dysphoria, et cetera..." I would be LYING because all of that is FAKE, because "I" AM FAKE.

God I am so tired of this. See, this is why I live in headspace whenever possible now!! Ironically, I have no sense of self up there. I am RARELY "in my body" up there and see myself almost exclusively in third person, speaking through idealized poetic thoughts instead of actually choosing my words, and never having to call attention to "me."
It hurt so, so, SO much when Mel said "I see why you love them so much. Their world revolves around you, and you've never been around people or souls where that isn't the case." THAT IS NOT WHY I LOVE THEM, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE. Worse, it stabs me to the core that you would think it actually was: love has nothing to do with that!! If you've paid any attention to my conversations with them, you'd see how many times I practically begged them to do the EXACT OPPOSITE whenever I so much as suspected that someone was becoming attached to me!! I wouldn't have tried to DESTROY OUR FREAKING TIMELINE if I enjoyed having their "worlds revolve around me!" I was willing to CUT MYSELF OFF FROM THEM FOREVER because I was SICK OF THE ATTENTION.
And yet I love them to death. I'd die for them, but the thought of them being as obsessive about me in return is downright terrifying. Do you see the problem? I will love you to death and beyond as long as you never cling to me. Remember what happened with Celebi. The moment she acknowledged my affection and wanted to reciprocate, I became so violent and malignant towards her that, at one point, I was willing to cause her severe physical harm JUST to get her to STOP SEEING ME THAT WAY.
So I apologize, but the very fact that you saw me as a living being caused most of our problems. If you had loved me from afar, it would have been fine. But no, suddenly you had to pay attention to my existence, and what happened? The damned ego woke up, the thing that is so tortured by its very existence that it can't think about anything but. If only you had left me on that pedestal, as something unreachable, as naught but a crystallized idea. We never would have had to deal with the living hell of my existence.

...Sorry. I'm not quite "myself" right now. (What a ridiculous word.)

I wish my mind wasn't so "all or nothing" with EVERYTHING. Geez.
Either I have problems, or I never had any to begin with.
Either I exist as an individual in someone else's awareness, or I do not exist at all.
I see the world in black and white, it seems. It plays havoc on my morality... "either morality exists, or it doesn't," to boil it all the way down. It's total idiocy, most significantly because it also works by omission. "If I am not being good, then I am being evil." And then the asinine Borderline side kicks in with "if this person is nice to me, they are utterly perfect and wonderful and always have been. If they do something even slightly mean even ONCE, then they have always been cruel and unkind." Better yet, IT CHANGES INSTANTANEOUSLY. Say hello and smile? You're a gem of a human being. Make an offensive comment meant to sound funny? You're utterly reprehensible and I want nothing to do with you. Follow it with another smile and a truly kind remark? Guess what, you're a saint. On and on it goes, it's a pain in the ass.
And it can be both, too!! To revisit that awful "world revolves around me" bit from before, my brain has quite the ludicrous response to it. If I asked someone who did love me, "does your world revolve around me?" (without vomiting, as that's an utterly disgusting question) and they said "of course not," my brain would IMMEDIATELY start treating them as completely unimportant to me in return. This is because it interprets a specific statement as a general one-- it heard "of course not; you're not worthy of caring about in such a way." Which is completely insane, but I've seen it happen. On the contrary, if that question was answered with a "yes, I can't imagine living without you," my response would be just as immediate and TWICE as vicious. I would hear, "yes, I can't imagine living without you; so you will not be able to live without constantly worrying about how it will affect me, and I will expect you to live for me alone in return." I would be terrified, but mostly seething with rage, and-- here's the real killer-- my brain would IMMEDIATELY start treating them as completely unimportant to me in return. Now WHY did we get the same reaction to two different responses? Simple-- because the black/white judgment was on the question, NOT the answer. To my brain, that question was WRONG. So no matter what you said in response, your answer would ALSO be wrong, because the question shouldn't have been asked in the first place.
Isn't that absolutely stupid? No one can win, ever, with this mindset! Where the heck did it come from?
And better yet, how can I tear it bloody and screaming out of my head without committing suicide in the process?

Sorry. I have no idea what the heck this entry was, and I apologize profusely for tainting this new space with it. Rest assured that it may be deleted soon.
To atone, I will take a knife to the turntable tonight. Who knows what will happen?
If I don't wake up tomorrow morning, I can die happy.

I hate being at home.
I've found that I only ever feel safe and comfortable when I am treated like a total stranger, like I "don't belong."
It's why I loved the 24-hour airplane trip to SLC better than I did the entire stay there. On the plane, and in those airports, I didn't belong. I wasn't supposed to stay, I wasn't even allowed to. I was shut out, limited, and treated as just someone passing through. And I loved it.

When I visit others and they tell me "make yourself at home," I don't know what to do. I panic. Because I know all too well that, if I did feel "at home," I would start destroying things. I would start damaging both myself and my environment as much as possible. Why?
Because, having "a home" insinuates that my "individuality" is sufficient enough to merit one. And I loathe my 'self' so damn much that I'd rather be treated as a specter than a person-- not as something to be ignored, but as something that isn't even perceived. The sickest part is that I enjoy it.

I want to move out, and I have for years, but I've finally discovered that the problem is I don't want to move in anywhere. I want to walk out the door and forever be cut off from a "place that I 'belong'" because that very concept makes me feel utterly unsafe.

Daily routine is closely tied to this. Anything that brings attention to myself as a person, rather than an idea or mirage, can potentially send me instantaneously into a self-hating suicidal meltdown. Talking and eating are the most dangerous activities in this respect, as both are frequently followed by self-abusive episodes nowadays.
I still want to live as a ghost, so to speak. I want to either sleep all day, or spend my waking hours in a semi-conscious state, unmoving, silent, experiencing everything in third person, with no one calling attention to me.
So yes, I still pray every night for nonexistence.

Boss wouldn't let me annihilate myself on the 24th like I wanted to. I tried again, and failed again.
I'm feebly chopping away at the timeline every chance I get, but the steady unraveling of sense and stability has currently reduced me into a malignant maniac, unable to function in the physical realm without posing a significant threat to those around me.
But there is one very, very big difference this time.
Somewhere far beneath the surface, hiding below my undying death wish, there is a will to live... a will to live invisibly.
I'm tired of having a name. I'm tired of having a body and a face and a family. Some days I outright hate it, and go to extremes just to undermine or eradicate whatever I can.
And I am always, always tired.

I feel inherently flawed, now. I feel as if my very existence is damned, irredeemable, unworthy of continuing. I know things are changing for the better in the world, but when I look at how rapidly I have been deteriorating, all I see is evidence that I am preventing that progress for others. All I see is a bloody obstacle that needs to be removed for the sake of everyone else.
They were right; I am selfish, manipulative, destructive, blind, and a burden to all I meet. You have every right to be angry with me, for what a bastard I've been. I wouldn't expect any less.

I keep looking back on what I did, and perhaps they were right all along. Maybe I'm not supposed to be anything but the villain of this story. If that is the end I always come to, perhaps it is the only end a blackheart like me deserves.
How ironic, that all the dark and tar-stained shadows I tried so desperately to tear from my life forever turned out to be the truest things about me.
I don't save the day, I don't fly off into the sunset, I don't get the girl.
And the only home I've ever known is a prison.

"They can drag me by the nose to the top of the world and tell me that there's been a mistake and I got someone else's fate, they can forgive me because deep down inside I'm a really terrific person, and they can write it all down and put it in drawers in hotel rooms, but the fact is I don't care.
I lived my life and I made some really bad decisions and I showed everybody what kind of person I was. I screwed up. I took the easy way and I picked up a gun and I got used to it and I deserved everything I got. Sorry if that sounds selfish.

There was another theme to those old war programs-- you don't forget the horrors you see. And I remember everything. I'm not supposed to, but I can't-- I won't-- forget the things I've done and the people I've hurt and the kind of person I really am. The kind of person who's way beyond second chances.
There is no hell, I was right about that. There's just the places we end up. And that's where I belong."

Still battling the crushing dysphoria.
Still wanting to die.
Still tired of all the old scars and new blood.

Haven't really been upstairs since the 3rd week of December or so.
Don't really have motivation to do anything right now.
Trying to go to the gym daily. Problem is then I don't want to come home.
Seriously tempted to just crash on the streets one day.
Feel like I'm falling apart, scraped out and empty.

Keep letting go of more and more possessions.
Down to basically my computers, clothes, and old art tablets now.
Completely willing to toss them all too if need be.

When I was younger, I prayed that 12-21-12 would really be the end.
I wanted to die. I looked forward to it, even.
I wanted a restart. I wanted a reset. I wanted relief.
I wanted to get out of this body and stay out.
When that didn't happen, I think something slipped.

I'm trying to smile. Trying to keep on keeping on.
Reminding myself that I am not this body.
Reminding myself that death and life are both an illusion.
Reminding myself that one day I will return to where I came from.
It doesn't make living any easier though.

I feel like an apocalyptic paradox.
I'm still torn between sleeping the days away, or burning them to ashes.
I think they were right. I really am destructive.
Now I've realized that it's just a mutated prayer.
Maybe if I tear this reality to the ground,
a new one will be born from it.

I feel like a dying phoenix.
Waiting for that final breath
that never seems to come.
Silently counting the fading moments
before my bones burst into flame.
The end never seems to come soon enough.

I don't want to sound so demanding.
I don't want anything, I want the loss of everything.
Maybe this is projected ego death? I hope so.
Even so I really do want to die, on all levels.
I'm tired.
I'm so tired.

The stars still bring tears to my eyes.
God, I want to go home.
I still can't remember why I came here.
I still can't seem to remember.
All I know is that I feel so old,
and I feel so young,
and I am so, so tired.

God, please, just take me home already.
I'm willing to sacrifice it all at this point.
This body confuses me.
This world confuses me.
Honestly, the only thing of worth in this reality
seems to be the things I know beyond it.
So why stay, I ask myself?
Why stay any longer?

Don't leave your kid without a father.

That's the only thing I'm holding on to right now.
But nights like this,
I wonder if she wouldn't be better off without me.
But then I remember what that comicbook angel told me last January.

Think about them if that's the only thing that's gonna get you out of this.
But you can't just pull the trigger, go over the stars, and expect that to be the end, 'cause it ain't.
They'll just send you right back down under them, kid.
But something tells me you're gonna get it right this time.
Hell, as if you haven't been getting it right all along...
Tell you what, kid. Next time I see you here,
I want you to be pretty darn early, and I don't want you bleeding, aiite?

Maybe I can survive for nine more days.
We can try again, maybe.
If my heart didn't feel so incarcerated,
I'd have a little more hope,
instead of red-soaked hands and an asphyxiated soul.

Still battling the crushing dysphoria.
Still wanting to die.
Still tired of all the old blood and new scars.

And still I keep thinking of Laurie and the lights.

Aren't things like this worth living for?

Isn't she worth living for?
Aren't they all worth living for?
Last night, all I could see were stars.
I love all of them, every last one of them...

It's not about me though, it's not about me.
It's not.

God, what do I do?

Bury me in snow and turn this life from red to white.
Burn me to ashes and turn these bones from white to red.

Rewind this tape. Restart this game. Please.
Just one more time.
Just one more time.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

Why am I still waiting?

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the spectrum heart cathedral system

a prism of souls

Entries tagged with reset attempts

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