Glasses: Radiance, Darkness
Title: Radiance, Darkness
Author: phylosophie
Theme: Glasses
Band/Pairing: Kyo (no pair)
Rating: PG-13 (adult themes)
Length: 800 words
Disclaimer: Not only do I not possess dear Kyo, but I have NFI what goes on in his mind.
Notes: Totally a break from my usual way of writing as I didn't cut this into my usual 300 words max. chunks. I tried to get inside Kyo's head and maybe pull out a page from his private journal at the same time. Someone needs to give me a “I SURVIVED INSIDE KYO'S BRAIN, ASK ME HOW!” shirt.
I was going to do write this one before reading the following in yamipandora's journal on her review of the Diru show in Chicago, but reading it just made it that much more important to get this written.
After "Agitated Screams of Maggots", Kyo knelt in front of Shinya's drum riser, seiza-style with his back to the audience. It was the only time during the show that I saw him do that this time. I think he was catching his breath, as "Maggots" was a very intense performance, but I would still like to know what is going on inside his head when he kneels there like that. The rest of the band sort of vanished into the wings for a minute, and then came back out. Maybe they all needed a minute...
It happened again last night, that strange duality of vision and sound. Even though it happens less often, it's grown to be far more intense, like a volcano that still puffs out smoke occasionally before exploding fantastically, raining ash and fire upon a formerly peaceful paradise.
Not that there's much peaceful in my life - I live on screams and cries, bellowed anger, pain, and even sometimes joy. Not peaceful, but something like content now and again.
As I was saying, last night... I remember it but I don't remember, in the way that some things are all too real and still so hard to believe at the same time.
It always happens at the lives. I was singing of course, though I can't remember what, when the sound began to change. You'd think I wouldn't notice it with this nearly-deaf left ear of mine, but my hearing actually becomes more acute when it occurs, like some terrible compensation.
The sound changes. The guys, the fans, even my own voice begins to fade. There's enough sound left that I never lose my place, but it's like a whisper from across the room. Karou said once that he can tell when it starts because I tilt my head just so. Die and Shinya pick up on it next whether from watching or some cue from Karou, they've never said. Even Totchi gets it eventually, when he stops fucking around enough, the fan-pleasing goof.
They all catch on and wait. Then the next part starts. It's like a pair of glasses lowering into place, with a pure crystal lens on the left and a smoked black one on the right. One eye sees nothing but pure radiance, brilliant white light and sparking outlines like looking outward through the facets of a diamond. For the other there's darkness, shadows within shadows; bare suggestions of shapes against impenetrable black.
Again, the guys somehow seem to pick up on it and one of them is always ready to take over with a solo while the rest scatter to the wings to watch and wait. By this time I'm not seeing much and hearing even less, but I usually make it over to Shin's drum riser and collapse in front of it, automatically falling into the Seiza position from force of habit.
I suppose that, to the fans, it looks like I'm catching my breath or even meditating. That's true to a point, I suppose, by mostly I'm waiting for it to stop. Because now it's in full control and it won't let me go until it's finished.
My left eye is seeing only this blinding radiance (and sometimes I think that's a joke because of the loss of hearing on that side) but while when this happens I can hear too much. It's a chorus of screams, the wailing of the dying, gunshots, roaring flames, buildings collapsing, bombs exploding, the crying of children... In short it sounds like the fury of Hell played against the unimaginable beauty of Light.
On the right is that Darkness, that all-encompassing blackness like the bottom of the ocean. And I can hear melodies of such beauty that they can't possibly be of human origin. Voices singing songs without words. Susurrus of winds in tall summer grasses. Beckoning whispers pleading me to join them. Every beautiful sound emanates from the darkness.
I'm trapped there, between the two. I can't reach either one. I tried once, just tried to reach out and touch them because it felt so REAL. It was like trying to hold a handful of wind but I could feel the weight of it as it slipped through my fingers, could almost see drops of it on my hands like water. But then it faded away. I haven't tried to touch it since; there's something perversely pleasurable about being in the grip of something you can't control. Not enjoyable, but it's something to experience, something beyond definition.
I'm never sure how long it keeps me like this. At least a minute or two, sometimes longer. Apparently I even blacked out during one particularly vivid instance. Everyone was freaking out but I came to and felt fine, perhaps better than I had in some days.
But eventually everything comes back and the show picks up again. It's not like I live in fear of it, wondering every time I step on stage if it'll happen that night. I do wonder what it is, though. Some people would probably say it's some weird psychological thing, that too much dallying on the dark side of life has rotted my brain.
I don't think it's anything like that. Music is a very powerful thing, both a blessing and a curse. Maybe I'm just seeing the reality of that for myself.
Author: phylosophie
Theme: Glasses
Band/Pairing: Kyo (no pair)
Rating: PG-13 (adult themes)
Length: 800 words
Disclaimer: Not only do I not possess dear Kyo, but I have NFI what goes on in his mind.
Notes: Totally a break from my usual way of writing as I didn't cut this into my usual 300 words max. chunks. I tried to get inside Kyo's head and maybe pull out a page from his private journal at the same time. Someone needs to give me a “I SURVIVED INSIDE KYO'S BRAIN, ASK ME HOW!” shirt.
I was going to do write this one before reading the following in yamipandora's journal on her review of the Diru show in Chicago, but reading it just made it that much more important to get this written.
After "Agitated Screams of Maggots", Kyo knelt in front of Shinya's drum riser, seiza-style with his back to the audience. It was the only time during the show that I saw him do that this time. I think he was catching his breath, as "Maggots" was a very intense performance, but I would still like to know what is going on inside his head when he kneels there like that. The rest of the band sort of vanished into the wings for a minute, and then came back out. Maybe they all needed a minute...
It happened again last night, that strange duality of vision and sound. Even though it happens less often, it's grown to be far more intense, like a volcano that still puffs out smoke occasionally before exploding fantastically, raining ash and fire upon a formerly peaceful paradise.
Not that there's much peaceful in my life - I live on screams and cries, bellowed anger, pain, and even sometimes joy. Not peaceful, but something like content now and again.
As I was saying, last night... I remember it but I don't remember, in the way that some things are all too real and still so hard to believe at the same time.
It always happens at the lives. I was singing of course, though I can't remember what, when the sound began to change. You'd think I wouldn't notice it with this nearly-deaf left ear of mine, but my hearing actually becomes more acute when it occurs, like some terrible compensation.
The sound changes. The guys, the fans, even my own voice begins to fade. There's enough sound left that I never lose my place, but it's like a whisper from across the room. Karou said once that he can tell when it starts because I tilt my head just so. Die and Shinya pick up on it next whether from watching or some cue from Karou, they've never said. Even Totchi gets it eventually, when he stops fucking around enough, the fan-pleasing goof.
They all catch on and wait. Then the next part starts. It's like a pair of glasses lowering into place, with a pure crystal lens on the left and a smoked black one on the right. One eye sees nothing but pure radiance, brilliant white light and sparking outlines like looking outward through the facets of a diamond. For the other there's darkness, shadows within shadows; bare suggestions of shapes against impenetrable black.
Again, the guys somehow seem to pick up on it and one of them is always ready to take over with a solo while the rest scatter to the wings to watch and wait. By this time I'm not seeing much and hearing even less, but I usually make it over to Shin's drum riser and collapse in front of it, automatically falling into the Seiza position from force of habit.
I suppose that, to the fans, it looks like I'm catching my breath or even meditating. That's true to a point, I suppose, by mostly I'm waiting for it to stop. Because now it's in full control and it won't let me go until it's finished.
My left eye is seeing only this blinding radiance (and sometimes I think that's a joke because of the loss of hearing on that side) but while when this happens I can hear too much. It's a chorus of screams, the wailing of the dying, gunshots, roaring flames, buildings collapsing, bombs exploding, the crying of children... In short it sounds like the fury of Hell played against the unimaginable beauty of Light.
On the right is that Darkness, that all-encompassing blackness like the bottom of the ocean. And I can hear melodies of such beauty that they can't possibly be of human origin. Voices singing songs without words. Susurrus of winds in tall summer grasses. Beckoning whispers pleading me to join them. Every beautiful sound emanates from the darkness.
I'm trapped there, between the two. I can't reach either one. I tried once, just tried to reach out and touch them because it felt so REAL. It was like trying to hold a handful of wind but I could feel the weight of it as it slipped through my fingers, could almost see drops of it on my hands like water. But then it faded away. I haven't tried to touch it since; there's something perversely pleasurable about being in the grip of something you can't control. Not enjoyable, but it's something to experience, something beyond definition.
I'm never sure how long it keeps me like this. At least a minute or two, sometimes longer. Apparently I even blacked out during one particularly vivid instance. Everyone was freaking out but I came to and felt fine, perhaps better than I had in some days.
But eventually everything comes back and the show picks up again. It's not like I live in fear of it, wondering every time I step on stage if it'll happen that night. I do wonder what it is, though. Some people would probably say it's some weird psychological thing, that too much dallying on the dark side of life has rotted my brain.
I don't think it's anything like that. Music is a very powerful thing, both a blessing and a curse. Maybe I'm just seeing the reality of that for myself.