All was not right with the world...
Greetings. It is I-- the brilliant fool, the emotional coward, the charming snake, the hateful boy and the conflicted soul. I rarely update and when I do it's often a short blurb filled with inconsequential whining. Which is essentially what everyone does-but I am ever filled with delusions of existing outside the loop of mediocrity. Nonsense of course, but indulge me.
To be absolutely blunt: I have been destroyed. Everything I once believed in, all which was good and clean in this world has turned to ash and powdery feces in each frantic grasp. The finality of my ruin is still sinking in, so you’ll understand if I gripe here and there.
I am wrong. I have always been wrong. Nothing I have done or said or thought has ever had any meaning. Well, perhaps it did have purpose… but it never served for anything good. All that I once considered myself is a sham. In my despair I cast it all away. I’m not myself anymore… and being as such I don’t care about who I once was. Or at least I convince myself that it no longer matters.
Am I jealous? Will admitting that make it all the more real for me? My anti-thesis grins and howls with triumph… yet bends reality to somehow… tactfully do so. I could never be like that. It’s too repugnant. Am I just defective as a human-being? I have been wrong all this time… fighting a losing battle… did I think it was heroic? Bah, too many pointless questions. I know the answers to every one of them. Yet he’s so smug and constantly right. Would I be better off trying to be more like him? Would I be capable of it? Could I stomach it? If someone were to give me the choice of emulating him or slicing off my balls… I would plainly say “Pass me a butter knife… and make it a rusty one.” Truly, that is how vile I find the thought. I hate him so much. His very existence thwarts my own. He is BETTER than me in every conceivable way… and he continues to prove it.
I want to just not care anymore. I want everyone to be fan-fucking-tastic and happy… and I want to just be. I’m not up, I’m not down. In another time I might have been sad or angry. Now I’m just indifferent. I know how I’m supposed to feel. I have the responses memorized. What I should say-the exact time of delivery and the nature of each tone. I need some new material I guess.
He is also my brother. My friend. My rival. Is this how it is to be? That one of us had to be stained with bitterness and seething contempt so that the other might be happy? Am I the tragic villain? Will I selfishly attempt to tear him down or fade miserably alone into the darkness? Surely, any normal… sane person would disown him. Would consider all that he has done as acts of unforgivable treason. But I don’t… and not because he has a way of justifying himself in the most impossible of situations. It’s bizarre. Or mayhap that’s what real charm is. I don’t forgive him… because there is nothing to forgive. He is who he is. Who am I? I’ve forgotten. Maybe I’ll be someone new. Oh well. Nothing bothers me anymore. All is as it should be. Those who suffer will harden from it. What are my petty concerns? They don’t matter. Do *I* matter? Maybe.
I know this all sounds pathetically dreary but that’s not how I perceive it. I am actually a fairly content guy, after dealing with so much garbage in my life (brought about by my own stupidity and shallow beliefs of course) I opted to simply allow everything to roll off my shoulders. Why worry? Nothing productive or good can come from stress... and it's always self-induced, to where would I point my finger? A person DECIDES to let things bother them. I have rid myself of all these menial concerns... nothing upsets me or comes as a great surprise. Is this a good thing? I can't go back now. Oh sure there is that which I care about, diminished as those values are... I would be a bold-faced liar if I claimed to be in-human. A status I covet but will never attain.
....I lost my train of thought, happens all the time. My apologies. I'll step away from the internal issues which plague the workings of my brain... it's all abstracted and cluttered anyway. Attempting to explain it would be as though trying to make something out of play-do that isn't a bowl. Don't look at me like that, it's impossible.
I spoke with my life-long and only compatriot recently. There was talk of video games, of sinister designs and even of relationships. Before he even confessed to me, I was tempted to cut him off and say it for him. How did I know? I'm not sure. Perhaps because it was so absurdly predictable in general... or maybe I just know him that well. Most importantly, the thought which struck me first was why would it matter if I approved? My opinions are dulled and worthless as a handful of pennies to his dollar when considered on this particular subject. Still, he apparently felt I should know and was clearly braced for my terrible wrath. While I would do anything to spite the oaf, even give him my blessing (which is pointless and I don't know why he bothers to seek it) ... this truly didn't bother me. It's what was needed and he was far more qualified to achieve this than I. Even half an hour into it he was still puzzled and paranoid as to how okay I was with the whole business. I was somewhere between amused and repulsed when he went on about the broken lamp and all the screaming. The bespectacled monkey told me more than I wished to know really, yet I wasn't distraught. In a round-about way this is what I had wanted. It eventually degraded into one of those conversations where the listener constantly replies in a toneless voice: "That's fascinating."
Oh well... "When life gives you lemons, squeeze the juice in your eye with a smile and watch life freak out with your good one." as I seem to say a lot these days.
Justin says I should be a writer. Crazy eh? He comes to this conclusion from an extremely brief piece I sent him for this "Final Fantasy" book we were contemplating. Anyway, I guess you can read it since you sat through all my emo crap. Enjoy:
Winds snaked forth with a chill that froze the soul more than the
body. Air and dust blasted through the crumbling alleys of the
stone ruins. A voice, more like a raspy whisper could only just be
made out through the rattling disturbance. Then, though the voice
did not raise... it took precedence over all other sound and each
could begin to make out words unknown to any of them-- the spidery
language of magic. Through the overgrowth of tall weeds and a
shattered pair of overturned columns which cast a gloom upon their
line of sight. A shadowy figure loomed, cowled by copious wrapped
fabric he stood with bright luminous eyes bent to the heavens. He
raised his arms, gloved palms outward, towards the lowering skies.
He repeated the same words over and over, his soft voice rising and
falling in a chant. The words never changed, but the way he spoke
them, the inflection of each, varied every time he repeated the
phrase. Crackling bolts of electricity sizzled through the air, yet
none of the surrounding foliage caught fire. The furious energy
slithered with jagged motions about the dark figure, yet he was
unharmed by the spiral of whipping light. A few stone chips
exploded here and there and with a tremendous vacuum that seemed to
draw the very breath from their lungs all was silent and calm. The
brief madness of nature withdrew itself within those pitch black
robes... settling neatly around a slender build.
All stood motionless in shocked silence save the cleric, who
instinctively made a warding gesture against evil with her hands. A
brief spell of throaty coughing broke the lull of stillness and
what sounded like hands swatting and smoothing clothes accompanied
it.
The silky chink of a steel length removed from a scabbard resonated
in everyone’s sensitive ears after such an abrupt calm, the young
knight crept forward... favoring his shield. He kept the new
addition of their number parallel to himself with the fair lady
resting between their adjacent shoulders... having witnessed the
newcomers prowess firsthand there could be no doubt of his ability
to guard his own back, as for trust... well, this new threat was
far more pressing than visions of marauding monks-- if this man
were truly lowly rabble he would have fled at such an malevolent
phenomenon. "He's earned some trust" Erdric thought as he craned
his neck for a better view, though unwilling to leave the girl
unguarded lest all this prove to be smoke and flash powder.
Viara wrung her hands with nervous fright, trailing behind her
protectors before pausing to scold herself-- and hotly too... for
fearing the unknown. Was it not the teachings of her order to face
all things with compassion and a level head? Straightening her back
and feigning more confidence than her inner lecture had actually
summoned the white mage stepped forward with the other two.
With a twirling motion of his finger, Arex indicated that he was
going to circle around and they would take... whatever it was...
from two sides. Mussed blonde hair nodded assent, ceasing his
advance to observe as Arex nimbly scaled a massive slab and leapt
soundlessly into the concealing beyond. The safest place at the
moment was at his side and so Erdric bid Viara to remain close as
he stalked over the broken walkways in the direction of which they
had both heard and seen the ominous figure and that unnatural surge
of elemental power.
Suddenly there was a soft crash and the rustle of leaves a few feet
away, Viara and Erdric's ears pricked up as a very youthful voice
cried out:
"Hey wait yo-- Ack-GACK!" there was a muffled thump, as if a body
had been floored to a patch of grass. Silence followed and lingered
for such a time that Erdric debated leaving his companion and
leaping sword drawn through the trees. Then it happened. Flames
erupted in great towers of black smoke, consuming and thriving
across even stone as it rolled towards them through a demolished
archway, bleakly lit in the pink haze of the setting sun. Shoving
Viara to the ground Erdric felt his swordsman's blood burn with a
purpose far hotter then the oncoming blaze, sorcery or not... he
would face this creature of shadows with courage. He had not to
win, only to fight with honor... let it co-- "Zuh?" Erdric said
aloud, blinking through the smoke as Arex tramped casually through
the wall of fire without difficulty, the fiery tongues which should
have licked at his flesh dissipated upon his coming. A great ebony
sack was slung over his broad shoulder, which seemed to be knotted
and tied within it's own weavings-- stranger still was that it seemed to
be struggling, writhing against the makeshift bonds. At this point
Viara had realized that whatever fight had been anticipated... it
was over before Erdric could join-- speaking of which she was
slightly taken back at the look of sheer bewilderment on the
knights sternly handsome features. Once upon the immensely stunned
pair, Arex idly relieved himself of the burden with a deep exhale
of breath... such as one might heave after a job well done. The
very moment it touched the ground the diminutive sack wobbled away
from him like an ungainly worm, a half smashed straw hat with a
wide brim untucked itself from a fold of cloth.... and then the
wild rambling burst forth from an unseen mouth.
"Get'imawayfromme! He's crazy!"
-- Thats it... and hey guess what? If I actually get my subpar skills in gear and start writing more i'll be sure and post it here. Oh the rapture! I'm sure you'll all be waiting with bated breath.
Stay cool, kids.
To be absolutely blunt: I have been destroyed. Everything I once believed in, all which was good and clean in this world has turned to ash and powdery feces in each frantic grasp. The finality of my ruin is still sinking in, so you’ll understand if I gripe here and there.
I am wrong. I have always been wrong. Nothing I have done or said or thought has ever had any meaning. Well, perhaps it did have purpose… but it never served for anything good. All that I once considered myself is a sham. In my despair I cast it all away. I’m not myself anymore… and being as such I don’t care about who I once was. Or at least I convince myself that it no longer matters.
Am I jealous? Will admitting that make it all the more real for me? My anti-thesis grins and howls with triumph… yet bends reality to somehow… tactfully do so. I could never be like that. It’s too repugnant. Am I just defective as a human-being? I have been wrong all this time… fighting a losing battle… did I think it was heroic? Bah, too many pointless questions. I know the answers to every one of them. Yet he’s so smug and constantly right. Would I be better off trying to be more like him? Would I be capable of it? Could I stomach it? If someone were to give me the choice of emulating him or slicing off my balls… I would plainly say “Pass me a butter knife… and make it a rusty one.” Truly, that is how vile I find the thought. I hate him so much. His very existence thwarts my own. He is BETTER than me in every conceivable way… and he continues to prove it.
I want to just not care anymore. I want everyone to be fan-fucking-tastic and happy… and I want to just be. I’m not up, I’m not down. In another time I might have been sad or angry. Now I’m just indifferent. I know how I’m supposed to feel. I have the responses memorized. What I should say-the exact time of delivery and the nature of each tone. I need some new material I guess.
He is also my brother. My friend. My rival. Is this how it is to be? That one of us had to be stained with bitterness and seething contempt so that the other might be happy? Am I the tragic villain? Will I selfishly attempt to tear him down or fade miserably alone into the darkness? Surely, any normal… sane person would disown him. Would consider all that he has done as acts of unforgivable treason. But I don’t… and not because he has a way of justifying himself in the most impossible of situations. It’s bizarre. Or mayhap that’s what real charm is. I don’t forgive him… because there is nothing to forgive. He is who he is. Who am I? I’ve forgotten. Maybe I’ll be someone new. Oh well. Nothing bothers me anymore. All is as it should be. Those who suffer will harden from it. What are my petty concerns? They don’t matter. Do *I* matter? Maybe.
I know this all sounds pathetically dreary but that’s not how I perceive it. I am actually a fairly content guy, after dealing with so much garbage in my life (brought about by my own stupidity and shallow beliefs of course) I opted to simply allow everything to roll off my shoulders. Why worry? Nothing productive or good can come from stress... and it's always self-induced, to where would I point my finger? A person DECIDES to let things bother them. I have rid myself of all these menial concerns... nothing upsets me or comes as a great surprise. Is this a good thing? I can't go back now. Oh sure there is that which I care about, diminished as those values are... I would be a bold-faced liar if I claimed to be in-human. A status I covet but will never attain.
....I lost my train of thought, happens all the time. My apologies. I'll step away from the internal issues which plague the workings of my brain... it's all abstracted and cluttered anyway. Attempting to explain it would be as though trying to make something out of play-do that isn't a bowl. Don't look at me like that, it's impossible.
I spoke with my life-long and only compatriot recently. There was talk of video games, of sinister designs and even of relationships. Before he even confessed to me, I was tempted to cut him off and say it for him. How did I know? I'm not sure. Perhaps because it was so absurdly predictable in general... or maybe I just know him that well. Most importantly, the thought which struck me first was why would it matter if I approved? My opinions are dulled and worthless as a handful of pennies to his dollar when considered on this particular subject. Still, he apparently felt I should know and was clearly braced for my terrible wrath. While I would do anything to spite the oaf, even give him my blessing (which is pointless and I don't know why he bothers to seek it) ... this truly didn't bother me. It's what was needed and he was far more qualified to achieve this than I. Even half an hour into it he was still puzzled and paranoid as to how okay I was with the whole business. I was somewhere between amused and repulsed when he went on about the broken lamp and all the screaming. The bespectacled monkey told me more than I wished to know really, yet I wasn't distraught. In a round-about way this is what I had wanted. It eventually degraded into one of those conversations where the listener constantly replies in a toneless voice: "That's fascinating."
Oh well... "When life gives you lemons, squeeze the juice in your eye with a smile and watch life freak out with your good one." as I seem to say a lot these days.
Justin says I should be a writer. Crazy eh? He comes to this conclusion from an extremely brief piece I sent him for this "Final Fantasy" book we were contemplating. Anyway, I guess you can read it since you sat through all my emo crap. Enjoy:
Winds snaked forth with a chill that froze the soul more than the
body. Air and dust blasted through the crumbling alleys of the
stone ruins. A voice, more like a raspy whisper could only just be
made out through the rattling disturbance. Then, though the voice
did not raise... it took precedence over all other sound and each
could begin to make out words unknown to any of them-- the spidery
language of magic. Through the overgrowth of tall weeds and a
shattered pair of overturned columns which cast a gloom upon their
line of sight. A shadowy figure loomed, cowled by copious wrapped
fabric he stood with bright luminous eyes bent to the heavens. He
raised his arms, gloved palms outward, towards the lowering skies.
He repeated the same words over and over, his soft voice rising and
falling in a chant. The words never changed, but the way he spoke
them, the inflection of each, varied every time he repeated the
phrase. Crackling bolts of electricity sizzled through the air, yet
none of the surrounding foliage caught fire. The furious energy
slithered with jagged motions about the dark figure, yet he was
unharmed by the spiral of whipping light. A few stone chips
exploded here and there and with a tremendous vacuum that seemed to
draw the very breath from their lungs all was silent and calm. The
brief madness of nature withdrew itself within those pitch black
robes... settling neatly around a slender build.
All stood motionless in shocked silence save the cleric, who
instinctively made a warding gesture against evil with her hands. A
brief spell of throaty coughing broke the lull of stillness and
what sounded like hands swatting and smoothing clothes accompanied
it.
The silky chink of a steel length removed from a scabbard resonated
in everyone’s sensitive ears after such an abrupt calm, the young
knight crept forward... favoring his shield. He kept the new
addition of their number parallel to himself with the fair lady
resting between their adjacent shoulders... having witnessed the
newcomers prowess firsthand there could be no doubt of his ability
to guard his own back, as for trust... well, this new threat was
far more pressing than visions of marauding monks-- if this man
were truly lowly rabble he would have fled at such an malevolent
phenomenon. "He's earned some trust" Erdric thought as he craned
his neck for a better view, though unwilling to leave the girl
unguarded lest all this prove to be smoke and flash powder.
Viara wrung her hands with nervous fright, trailing behind her
protectors before pausing to scold herself-- and hotly too... for
fearing the unknown. Was it not the teachings of her order to face
all things with compassion and a level head? Straightening her back
and feigning more confidence than her inner lecture had actually
summoned the white mage stepped forward with the other two.
With a twirling motion of his finger, Arex indicated that he was
going to circle around and they would take... whatever it was...
from two sides. Mussed blonde hair nodded assent, ceasing his
advance to observe as Arex nimbly scaled a massive slab and leapt
soundlessly into the concealing beyond. The safest place at the
moment was at his side and so Erdric bid Viara to remain close as
he stalked over the broken walkways in the direction of which they
had both heard and seen the ominous figure and that unnatural surge
of elemental power.
Suddenly there was a soft crash and the rustle of leaves a few feet
away, Viara and Erdric's ears pricked up as a very youthful voice
cried out:
"Hey wait yo-- Ack-GACK!" there was a muffled thump, as if a body
had been floored to a patch of grass. Silence followed and lingered
for such a time that Erdric debated leaving his companion and
leaping sword drawn through the trees. Then it happened. Flames
erupted in great towers of black smoke, consuming and thriving
across even stone as it rolled towards them through a demolished
archway, bleakly lit in the pink haze of the setting sun. Shoving
Viara to the ground Erdric felt his swordsman's blood burn with a
purpose far hotter then the oncoming blaze, sorcery or not... he
would face this creature of shadows with courage. He had not to
win, only to fight with honor... let it co-- "Zuh?" Erdric said
aloud, blinking through the smoke as Arex tramped casually through
the wall of fire without difficulty, the fiery tongues which should
have licked at his flesh dissipated upon his coming. A great ebony
sack was slung over his broad shoulder, which seemed to be knotted
and tied within it's own weavings-- stranger still was that it seemed to
be struggling, writhing against the makeshift bonds. At this point
Viara had realized that whatever fight had been anticipated... it
was over before Erdric could join-- speaking of which she was
slightly taken back at the look of sheer bewilderment on the
knights sternly handsome features. Once upon the immensely stunned
pair, Arex idly relieved himself of the burden with a deep exhale
of breath... such as one might heave after a job well done. The
very moment it touched the ground the diminutive sack wobbled away
from him like an ungainly worm, a half smashed straw hat with a
wide brim untucked itself from a fold of cloth.... and then the
wild rambling burst forth from an unseen mouth.
"Get'imawayfromme! He's crazy!"
-- Thats it... and hey guess what? If I actually get my subpar skills in gear and start writing more i'll be sure and post it here. Oh the rapture! I'm sure you'll all be waiting with bated breath.
Stay cool, kids.