1.59 - Addiction
Some people might say that my addiction is... well, sex. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it maybe a tad more than the average person. But I'm not an addict. I don't need it to survive, and I can go on very long periods without it, that much has always been established.
Another group might say running away from danger is like an addiction, or just the act and threat of danger itself is the addiction for me. I suppose they might be right in some respects. I do go looking for trouble.
But that's because I want to get the bottom of things, learn the truth. You can't blame me for that, can you? If I don't do it, who will? Who's going to stand up and take responsibility? It might as well be me.
A couple of smart arsed people would suggest that tea is my addiction. Teaish. That word gets batted around like candy. Can't say I blame them, I do like tea. And yes, it's a metaphor, kind of like dancing's a metaphor, but that's not my addiction either.
My addiction is the stars. The whole encompassing system of the black and the planets and the stars and the shapes of things. Even when I was on other planets, there was nothing like looking up at the sky, seeing it there. So big and expansive and feeling so small.
It's that that I can't live without. I wouldn't want to be somewhere where I couldn't look up and see the sky above me.
It's a need, to look up there and see that everything at least right there, is all right. So many things happen. Ships crash, meteors, things spiraling through the sky. More happens up there then anyone down here will ever know about.
And there's only a handful of us that do. That secrecy, knowing but keeping it to myself, that's the addiction. The adrenaline rush through my veins.
Being told I was the Herald, I never wanted to believe it, but as soon as Sir Donald asked me to go with him up into space again, I wanted to say yes. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea of course, but I wanted it more than anything. To breathe it in. To be surrounded by it.
When Josh was shot and we were suspended in space, and even though logically I knew we'd probably both die, I didn't feel that way. I saw, the comet.. and something else. The Mandragora Helix. It was there, above me, floating around. Filling my senses.
Being in the heart of that, I had just gotten the biggest fix of my life.
I don't know how I'll ever be able to live without it again.
Another group might say running away from danger is like an addiction, or just the act and threat of danger itself is the addiction for me. I suppose they might be right in some respects. I do go looking for trouble.
But that's because I want to get the bottom of things, learn the truth. You can't blame me for that, can you? If I don't do it, who will? Who's going to stand up and take responsibility? It might as well be me.
A couple of smart arsed people would suggest that tea is my addiction. Teaish. That word gets batted around like candy. Can't say I blame them, I do like tea. And yes, it's a metaphor, kind of like dancing's a metaphor, but that's not my addiction either.
My addiction is the stars. The whole encompassing system of the black and the planets and the stars and the shapes of things. Even when I was on other planets, there was nothing like looking up at the sky, seeing it there. So big and expansive and feeling so small.
It's that that I can't live without. I wouldn't want to be somewhere where I couldn't look up and see the sky above me.
It's a need, to look up there and see that everything at least right there, is all right. So many things happen. Ships crash, meteors, things spiraling through the sky. More happens up there then anyone down here will ever know about.
And there's only a handful of us that do. That secrecy, knowing but keeping it to myself, that's the addiction. The adrenaline rush through my veins.
Being told I was the Herald, I never wanted to believe it, but as soon as Sir Donald asked me to go with him up into space again, I wanted to say yes. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea of course, but I wanted it more than anything. To breathe it in. To be surrounded by it.
When Josh was shot and we were suspended in space, and even though logically I knew we'd probably both die, I didn't feel that way. I saw, the comet.. and something else. The Mandragora Helix. It was there, above me, floating around. Filling my senses.
Being in the heart of that, I had just gotten the biggest fix of my life.
I don't know how I'll ever be able to live without it again.