|[44]|
|[ Private / Unhackable ]|
In some sense, I think I knew this was the end. He's not coming back this time.
Ache long enough and you go numb. Decades of absence were so much easier to bear, even with the interminable questioning, the uncertainty of it, the cry of blood for blood, because I'd ceased to feel it. Would I be better off, perhaps, never knowing, never finding? Imagining my singularity, not daring to hope it wasn't only me. I certainly would have been better off if I'd stayed dead. Having the time I did, the opportunity, here, to speak without lies between us, only makes it harder now. I didn't think he'd leave. I thought if he was given the choice (and perhaps he wasn't;) he'd stay here. I want him to come home, as though this ridiculous place were where we belonged. I wouldn't trade our time for anything except to bring him back here. Selfish. But it wasn't as though he was unhappy here, I don't think... Awful and awkward as it was, we were learning to be brothers again. He would at least have said something, if he'd known--wouldn't he?
That sense, the knowledge that I am not alone, that he is as I am, damaged and dark, was the only thing that made this place tolerable. I am denied the only things which bring clarity, keeping at bay the numb emptiness which defines me. My brother is gone.
I need a sharp edge and a hard shadow, that bright divide of red on white, high contrast silence. The perfect still moment in the cold. A vessel, a canvas, an opportunity; sputtering shallow breaths passing between quivering lips too weak to scream.
Breathe, just breathe. There needs to be a restoration of stillness. This restlessness will get me nowhere.
|[ /Private ]|
It's not even that I mind dancing. I like to dance, actually. I'm just getting tired of being forced to. Besides, whatever Sunday was about, it somehow lacked the grace of the Pasa Doble last week.
Also, it evidently invited biting. Or maybe that was a coincidence, how should I know.
Today is-- Guy Fawkes' Day, right? In England. The fireworks are kinda fun, but the smoke's a pain... And it's a good idea to watch where you step, I'd prefer not to see too many missing fingers from cherry bombs in the Hospital tomorrow, even if it is good for business.
In some sense, I think I knew this was the end. He's not coming back this time.
Ache long enough and you go numb. Decades of absence were so much easier to bear, even with the interminable questioning, the uncertainty of it, the cry of blood for blood, because I'd ceased to feel it. Would I be better off, perhaps, never knowing, never finding? Imagining my singularity, not daring to hope it wasn't only me. I certainly would have been better off if I'd stayed dead. Having the time I did, the opportunity, here, to speak without lies between us, only makes it harder now. I didn't think he'd leave. I thought if he was given the choice (and perhaps he wasn't;) he'd stay here. I want him to come home, as though this ridiculous place were where we belonged. I wouldn't trade our time for anything except to bring him back here. Selfish. But it wasn't as though he was unhappy here, I don't think... Awful and awkward as it was, we were learning to be brothers again. He would at least have said something, if he'd known--wouldn't he?
That sense, the knowledge that I am not alone, that he is as I am, damaged and dark, was the only thing that made this place tolerable. I am denied the only things which bring clarity, keeping at bay the numb emptiness which defines me. My brother is gone.
I need a sharp edge and a hard shadow, that bright divide of red on white, high contrast silence. The perfect still moment in the cold. A vessel, a canvas, an opportunity; sputtering shallow breaths passing between quivering lips too weak to scream.
Breathe, just breathe. There needs to be a restoration of stillness. This restlessness will get me nowhere.
|[ /Private ]|
It's not even that I mind dancing. I like to dance, actually. I'm just getting tired of being forced to. Besides, whatever Sunday was about, it somehow lacked the grace of the Pasa Doble last week.
Also, it evidently invited biting. Or maybe that was a coincidence, how should I know.
Today is-- Guy Fawkes' Day, right? In England. The fireworks are kinda fun, but the smoke's a pain... And it's a good idea to watch where you step, I'd prefer not to see too many missing fingers from cherry bombs in the Hospital tomorrow, even if it is good for business.