So I go to the doctor in the morning.
So I get to pretend that I'm feeling fine and social.
It kinda turns out that I'm not.
I've tried to eat tonight, and every attempt has wound up making me ill.
I'm laying in my bed waiting to sleep. Hoping to God I'll be comatose.
Hoping to God I don't dream.
I feel like I've shattered into a million pieces.
And I'm struggling to put them back together before tomorrow morning.
How come nothing ever works right?
How come things always boil down to this?
How come I always wind up alone?
Am I meant to never share my feelings?
Am I meant to never love?
There's too many questions.
Too much aching in my soul.
Too much wanting.
Too many words I want to say.
But not enough mental strength to find the way to word them.
Plus, too little time.
I still hope you make yourself everything you couldn't be when I was holding you back.
God knows at least one of us deserves happiness.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Random Venting.
Tonight I got into a conversation that's got me thinking and wanting to vent some things out. What started as a conversation about the cost of my new medication has turned into a slightly emotional vent that I can't help but chew on.
We're going to dive into my mental past... feel free to ignore the following vent, but it's open and blunt and direct. Maybe too much so. But it's all out there, the complete and honest truth about everything that's brought me to where I am now.
So far, I'm really glad that I was able to gather up the strength to admit that I had -- no, have -- a problem. After years of not knowing what was wrong, and thinking that it was simply normal to go from blissfully happy to nearly suicidal, I've discovered that there's something wrong with that... and that it's preventable. That I can be happy, that I don't have to walk around on eggshells and fear that tiny trigger that sets off everything.
That I could be... you know, stable. That S-word I've always wanted but never could be.
My biggest problem was overcoming the fear of medication. When I was about sixteen or seventeen, I was placed on Zoloft for severe depression. At first, it seemed to work well... little did I know that I was wrong. It sent me into extremely trippy highs of hyperactivity -- as if nothing bothered me at all. Even getting hurt caused me to just laugh and ignore the situation. I didn't care about anything else, nothing bugged me... I was happy.
So I thought.
A few months would pass and I would become diagnosed with moderate ADHD. I was placed on Welbutrin to combat this condition... supposedly the Welbutrin would make me focus and concentrate. I wanted to be able to focus, as it was my first year of college. For a week or so, things seemed to be working very well. My focus was sharper than anything I'd ever experienced in my life and I was catching every word my professors said. Shiny things weren't distracting me, I didn't fidget in my seat, and I was just... focused. I thought I was fixed... I thought I was officially normal.
But then things started going downhill. More like spiraling out of control.
I started having vivid night terrors where I'd wake up convinced I was being attacked savagely. I started feeling paranoid and twitchy. The highs got higher and the crashes more severe. The depression started returning with a viciousness I'd never seen before. I became afraid to sleep. They put me on Ambien to combat the sleeplessness.
Image that -- being forced to take something that would make you sleep and experience such awful nightmares. Stupid me, though, I became addicted to the Ambien's effects -- who wouldn't want an aphrodisiac? What I didn't realize was that while it increased my libido, it was killing my memory. I started waking up in weird places around my house... One morning I awoke in a heap in the kitchen floor. I started waking up without my clothes after going to sleep fully dressed. I took a pair of scissors to my face and cut off my eyebrows... and couldn't remember doing it.
Meanwhile, I wasn't saying anything to anybody because, again, I thought it was normal. I thought, "If I give this time, it'll all subside and I'll be okay again." But things kept worsening. I started crying in the middle of classes, I started becoming highly distracted by deep and complicated plans of how I could kill myself.
How to die...
And then the episodes began. I started having near-psychotic episodes in which I completely lost my mind. I had these around my then boyfriend, who became so terrified by them that he admitted to being afraid of me. He told me of episodes where I tried to punch him in the face as he held my trembling, sobbing body down. He told me how I ran from him and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and attempted to swallow them all. I didn't believe him -- after all, I didn't remember these instances happening. He told me I laid down in the middle of the street in his subdivision and screamed at the sky, "Come on! You won't do it!" Again, a fantasy in my mind.
Until the fateful night I was forced to see that he wasn't simply telling tales.
I was feeling sick that night, but Mama was insistent I went to the store with her and Shelby. Mama was in a foul mood from a rough day at work, and was throwing around words she normally didn't use. I got ready and got into the car, feeling steadily sicker. When we got halfway to the store, I told her I thought I was going to throw up. She flung the car around and sped home, threw the keys at me angrily, and told me, "Just stay inside. I hope you do throw up." With that, she and Shelby left me. Alone.
This event triggered me. I went inside, threw up, and proceeded to have a complete breakdown. I stumbled, almost drunkenly, through the house, laughing and crying at the same time. Then things went blank.
When I came back to the surface, I was laughing and humming to myself, sitting in the corner of the kitchen with a large knife slowing cutting into my wrist.
I snapped out of it immediately at this image, throwing the knife across the room and running to where my medications were kept. I grabbed the bottles, went to the bathroom, and flushed every last pill down the toilet. When I went back to my doctor a few weeks later, I told him I came off them. When asked why, I simply replied, "I can handle it on my own."
But four years had passed since then, and my condition wasn't any better. I was still highly volatile and easily triggered. I suffered multiple episodes of panic attacks that terrified both me and my current boyfriend. I even went as far as to threaten him with my own death during these episodes, because I was convinced I had failed him when there was no signs that he was discontent. After we both were calm and he had finally found enough peace to sleep, I spent that night awake, staring into the dark. There was no reason for me to have gotten that way, and I spent the night trying to make up an excuse. I never could.
It was extremely frustrating, knowing that my family and loved ones were walking on eggshells because I was so easily triggered. It's painful to know that they were afraid of me harming myself -- or worse -- because they might accidentally trigger my sharp crashes. I toyed mentally with the thought of resuming medications and counselling... but I was too afraid.
No more fiascos. No more lapses. I was horrified I'd do it all again.
The parentals were away in Savannah, and Shelby had started a new job. I was alone for the majority of the day, several days in succession. Not even my online friends seemed to be around that much. It left me too much time to become triggered and depressed, and gave me too much time to plan an ending. I made my first attempt at suicide in several years during those days, attempting to drown myself in a bathtub. However, something made me rethink my plan, and I instead stood in scalding hot water until the water turned cold and I had properly burned myself.
That night, Shelby came home and found me on my hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. I'd become so wrapped up in trying to distract myself from my lonliness that I resorted to extreme cleaning. She had brought home dinner for herself and I'd had nothing, but I didn't feel like driving to get it on my own while I wanted some of hers... even though it was food that normally I don't care for.
I curled up into a ball on the couch and said nothing for thirty full minutes. My first words to her after that period of silence was some kind of snarky remark followed by a round of tears. She'd had enough and called Mama on me, terrified that I was going to do something dangerous to myself. Later that evening I attempted to leave the house alone, because I wanted to drive as far away as possible. Shelby refused to let me leave alone, however, so I told her I was going to pick up dinner for myself. I could barely keep the car in my lane because I was far too enveloped in my own misery and desire to run away. She forced me to pull over and she drove me to get food and drove us safely home.
This was when I realized that I needed to do something about it. I took a few days to think it over, and finally told Mama, "I want to go to the doctor and talk to him about this."
I brought this up with my boyfriend, who immediately seemed resistant to me starting treatment. It was a painful few days while we struggled to get a grip on the situation, and, at times, I wanted to break up with him because I didn't think he would be willing to support me... and I wouldn't make him suffer that just like I refuse to be with someone who won't support everything I do. I began having nightmares of losing him and started sleeping less out of fear. I finally came to the conclusion that if I didn't talk about it, he and I would be fine. I started confiding in another friend to avoid the confrontation... but it wasn't the same. I wanted my boyfriend to be the one I confided in, as I trust him and want him to be active in everything I do... even if he disagrees, I wanted him to support me.
The doctor's appointment went over without a hitch, and I was told that I was misdiagnosed as a teenager. I'm not depressed, I'm bipolar, and the medications I had been put on years ago were not meant to treat my condition. In fact, they worsened the problem and that's what caused my "lapse outs." He started me on an antipsychotic, Abilify, which I've been taking for nearly two weeks.
A few days into the treatment, I brought it up with my boyfriend. He had become supportive of my decision, which took a huge weight off my shoulders. I actually cried tears of happiness and relief after that conversation with him, as I knew I had my column of support again. With him at my side again, I knew that whatever would happen to me, I'd get through it. He'd seen me through the biggest surgery in my life, had never left my side during the recovery, and has been so wonderful in the months since that I could see no other person at my side through another big step in my life. I felt genuinely happy and eager to proceed, so that I can be stable for him.
So that I don't have to make him walk on thin ice or make him think he's failed when I've randomly crashed.
So he doesn't have to blame himself or wonder why I'm angry when there was never a reason for the explosion in the first place.
So that there wouldn't be so much tension caused by my inability to control myself and his not knowing what was wrong.
After seven years of wondering what the problem is... we finally have it figured out. Now the recovery and healing can begin. I can finally begin to pick myself up, dust myself off, lick the wounds clean, and stand on my own two feet. I won't have to spend my nights wondering why the hell such a screw up like me was ever placed on the earth because I no longer think of myself as one. I'm just... a little different.
And that's perfectly okay.
We're going to dive into my mental past... feel free to ignore the following vent, but it's open and blunt and direct. Maybe too much so. But it's all out there, the complete and honest truth about everything that's brought me to where I am now.
So far, I'm really glad that I was able to gather up the strength to admit that I had -- no, have -- a problem. After years of not knowing what was wrong, and thinking that it was simply normal to go from blissfully happy to nearly suicidal, I've discovered that there's something wrong with that... and that it's preventable. That I can be happy, that I don't have to walk around on eggshells and fear that tiny trigger that sets off everything.
That I could be... you know, stable. That S-word I've always wanted but never could be.
My biggest problem was overcoming the fear of medication. When I was about sixteen or seventeen, I was placed on Zoloft for severe depression. At first, it seemed to work well... little did I know that I was wrong. It sent me into extremely trippy highs of hyperactivity -- as if nothing bothered me at all. Even getting hurt caused me to just laugh and ignore the situation. I didn't care about anything else, nothing bugged me... I was happy.
So I thought.
A few months would pass and I would become diagnosed with moderate ADHD. I was placed on Welbutrin to combat this condition... supposedly the Welbutrin would make me focus and concentrate. I wanted to be able to focus, as it was my first year of college. For a week or so, things seemed to be working very well. My focus was sharper than anything I'd ever experienced in my life and I was catching every word my professors said. Shiny things weren't distracting me, I didn't fidget in my seat, and I was just... focused. I thought I was fixed... I thought I was officially normal.
But then things started going downhill. More like spiraling out of control.
I started having vivid night terrors where I'd wake up convinced I was being attacked savagely. I started feeling paranoid and twitchy. The highs got higher and the crashes more severe. The depression started returning with a viciousness I'd never seen before. I became afraid to sleep. They put me on Ambien to combat the sleeplessness.
Image that -- being forced to take something that would make you sleep and experience such awful nightmares. Stupid me, though, I became addicted to the Ambien's effects -- who wouldn't want an aphrodisiac? What I didn't realize was that while it increased my libido, it was killing my memory. I started waking up in weird places around my house... One morning I awoke in a heap in the kitchen floor. I started waking up without my clothes after going to sleep fully dressed. I took a pair of scissors to my face and cut off my eyebrows... and couldn't remember doing it.
Meanwhile, I wasn't saying anything to anybody because, again, I thought it was normal. I thought, "If I give this time, it'll all subside and I'll be okay again." But things kept worsening. I started crying in the middle of classes, I started becoming highly distracted by deep and complicated plans of how I could kill myself.
How to die...
And then the episodes began. I started having near-psychotic episodes in which I completely lost my mind. I had these around my then boyfriend, who became so terrified by them that he admitted to being afraid of me. He told me of episodes where I tried to punch him in the face as he held my trembling, sobbing body down. He told me how I ran from him and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and attempted to swallow them all. I didn't believe him -- after all, I didn't remember these instances happening. He told me I laid down in the middle of the street in his subdivision and screamed at the sky, "Come on! You won't do it!" Again, a fantasy in my mind.
Until the fateful night I was forced to see that he wasn't simply telling tales.
I was feeling sick that night, but Mama was insistent I went to the store with her and Shelby. Mama was in a foul mood from a rough day at work, and was throwing around words she normally didn't use. I got ready and got into the car, feeling steadily sicker. When we got halfway to the store, I told her I thought I was going to throw up. She flung the car around and sped home, threw the keys at me angrily, and told me, "Just stay inside. I hope you do throw up." With that, she and Shelby left me. Alone.
This event triggered me. I went inside, threw up, and proceeded to have a complete breakdown. I stumbled, almost drunkenly, through the house, laughing and crying at the same time. Then things went blank.
When I came back to the surface, I was laughing and humming to myself, sitting in the corner of the kitchen with a large knife slowing cutting into my wrist.
I snapped out of it immediately at this image, throwing the knife across the room and running to where my medications were kept. I grabbed the bottles, went to the bathroom, and flushed every last pill down the toilet. When I went back to my doctor a few weeks later, I told him I came off them. When asked why, I simply replied, "I can handle it on my own."
But four years had passed since then, and my condition wasn't any better. I was still highly volatile and easily triggered. I suffered multiple episodes of panic attacks that terrified both me and my current boyfriend. I even went as far as to threaten him with my own death during these episodes, because I was convinced I had failed him when there was no signs that he was discontent. After we both were calm and he had finally found enough peace to sleep, I spent that night awake, staring into the dark. There was no reason for me to have gotten that way, and I spent the night trying to make up an excuse. I never could.
It was extremely frustrating, knowing that my family and loved ones were walking on eggshells because I was so easily triggered. It's painful to know that they were afraid of me harming myself -- or worse -- because they might accidentally trigger my sharp crashes. I toyed mentally with the thought of resuming medications and counselling... but I was too afraid.
No more fiascos. No more lapses. I was horrified I'd do it all again.
The parentals were away in Savannah, and Shelby had started a new job. I was alone for the majority of the day, several days in succession. Not even my online friends seemed to be around that much. It left me too much time to become triggered and depressed, and gave me too much time to plan an ending. I made my first attempt at suicide in several years during those days, attempting to drown myself in a bathtub. However, something made me rethink my plan, and I instead stood in scalding hot water until the water turned cold and I had properly burned myself.
That night, Shelby came home and found me on my hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. I'd become so wrapped up in trying to distract myself from my lonliness that I resorted to extreme cleaning. She had brought home dinner for herself and I'd had nothing, but I didn't feel like driving to get it on my own while I wanted some of hers... even though it was food that normally I don't care for.
I curled up into a ball on the couch and said nothing for thirty full minutes. My first words to her after that period of silence was some kind of snarky remark followed by a round of tears. She'd had enough and called Mama on me, terrified that I was going to do something dangerous to myself. Later that evening I attempted to leave the house alone, because I wanted to drive as far away as possible. Shelby refused to let me leave alone, however, so I told her I was going to pick up dinner for myself. I could barely keep the car in my lane because I was far too enveloped in my own misery and desire to run away. She forced me to pull over and she drove me to get food and drove us safely home.
This was when I realized that I needed to do something about it. I took a few days to think it over, and finally told Mama, "I want to go to the doctor and talk to him about this."
I brought this up with my boyfriend, who immediately seemed resistant to me starting treatment. It was a painful few days while we struggled to get a grip on the situation, and, at times, I wanted to break up with him because I didn't think he would be willing to support me... and I wouldn't make him suffer that just like I refuse to be with someone who won't support everything I do. I began having nightmares of losing him and started sleeping less out of fear. I finally came to the conclusion that if I didn't talk about it, he and I would be fine. I started confiding in another friend to avoid the confrontation... but it wasn't the same. I wanted my boyfriend to be the one I confided in, as I trust him and want him to be active in everything I do... even if he disagrees, I wanted him to support me.
The doctor's appointment went over without a hitch, and I was told that I was misdiagnosed as a teenager. I'm not depressed, I'm bipolar, and the medications I had been put on years ago were not meant to treat my condition. In fact, they worsened the problem and that's what caused my "lapse outs." He started me on an antipsychotic, Abilify, which I've been taking for nearly two weeks.
A few days into the treatment, I brought it up with my boyfriend. He had become supportive of my decision, which took a huge weight off my shoulders. I actually cried tears of happiness and relief after that conversation with him, as I knew I had my column of support again. With him at my side again, I knew that whatever would happen to me, I'd get through it. He'd seen me through the biggest surgery in my life, had never left my side during the recovery, and has been so wonderful in the months since that I could see no other person at my side through another big step in my life. I felt genuinely happy and eager to proceed, so that I can be stable for him.
So that I don't have to make him walk on thin ice or make him think he's failed when I've randomly crashed.
So he doesn't have to blame himself or wonder why I'm angry when there was never a reason for the explosion in the first place.
So that there wouldn't be so much tension caused by my inability to control myself and his not knowing what was wrong.
After seven years of wondering what the problem is... we finally have it figured out. Now the recovery and healing can begin. I can finally begin to pick myself up, dust myself off, lick the wounds clean, and stand on my own two feet. I won't have to spend my nights wondering why the hell such a screw up like me was ever placed on the earth because I no longer think of myself as one. I'm just... a little different.
And that's perfectly okay.
Monday, June 29, 2009
More Sequel Stuff.
I found some music that inspired me... (Plus it's a bonus because it's music from an epic video game >>) So here we go with more crossover sequel stuffs.
I introduced Luca's crossover, Daniel, in one of the teasers... now it's time to bring Phil's crossover into the picture.
Here we go, the beginning of chapter two:
Chapter Two Teaser
Everyone was surrounding the two returning members of the household as Jared continued explaining what he was about to do with them.
"We're not experiments," Phil insisted, primarily out of nervousness.
"It won't hurt you a bit," Jared assured. "Now that Jessie is home, she and I are going to use her psychic powers and my machines to investigate what kind of powers your Amethyst Medallion has. It's not going to hurt at all... provided you can block the images out."
"What's going to happen, exactly?" Luca asked. "Why did you strap us down in these chairs? Won't we be in trance?"
"Yes, but we don't know how volatile your powers are. So, in case you guys go ballistic and try to fire off attacks, we'll be somewhat protected."
"I don't like this idea," Phil whined. "This sounds dangerous and I don't want to do it."
"It's important," Jared insisted. "We have to know what kind of powers you two have brought along with you."
Phil scowled worriedly but said no more. He looked down at his restraints and sighed heavily. It was a bad idea. He knew it was. Something was going to happen. He felt it.
Jessie walked into the room. "I'm ready," she announced. "Are they?"
"Phil is doubtful, but Luca seems okay. Let's start with her." Jared turned to Phil. "Watch what happens with Luca, you'll see that nothing bad is going to happen to her."
Phil shook his head. "It's a bad idea, Jared. Really. You can't feel it, but I can. If you trigger her, something's going to happen..."
"You're being paranoid." Jared walked over to Luca. "Alright, Luca. We're going to induce a trance on you now."
Luca nodded. "Do whatever," she said, always fearless and ready.
Phil squirmed a little bit, highly anxious. He could feel it... why were they ignoring him? Sure, he wasn't as brave as his girlfriend... but he knew. He felt it. It almost hurt how badly he felt it. They'd bring up the past, and her destructive powers from the crossover dimension would be triggered... He laid back in the chair, pressing his back hard against it.
"Okay," Jared announced. "She's in trance. She's under our control now. It's time for us to see what kind of power she brought along."
Jessie nodded and began to glow a soft purple color. "We're going to start with how she got them..."
An image appeared on the screen. A large, beautiful palace. The night sky was cloudy and thunder rumbled in the distance.
Phil shivered a little, feeling the forces already starting to go to work. He closed his eyes tighter. He didn't want to see it. But he couldn't help but feel it -- the heat of the fire that swallowed up the palace and destroyed his girlfriend's family... the blaze that caused her permanent fear, permanent agony... the scar on her left forearm... It tortured him. How badly could it be hurting her? He heard her whining softly in the chair beside him.
"Pull her back," he murmured, pleading. "You don't know what you're doing. Pull her back. Please."
"Wait," Aaron insisted, "I want to see what happens next."
Phil yelled angrily, "It's not a movie! It's what really happened to her! Pull her back, you're going to trigger something very bad in her!"
Daniel blinked. For the first time since he'd known Phil, he never knew the young man to have a temper. Or feel anything besides a calm indifference. Seeing the burst of emotion made him realize that there was, indeed, a fighter's spirit locked somewhere deep inside of him. He also realized that if Phil was reacting this way, something was indeed going to happen.
"Stop it," he instructed his cousin, "before something does happen."
But it was too late. Phil jumped as the image on the screen suddenly disappeared, and yelped in time with everyone else as the screen exploded. He squirmed hard against his restraints, fearfully. "Pull her back, now!" He demanded.
Jared blinked and turned back towards Luca. Her eyes were closed tight and her whole body was shivering. Waves of energy emitted from her body.
"Bring her back!" Phil yelled.
Jared looked towards Jessie. "Bring her out."
Jessie shook her head in fright. "I've lost control of her..."
"I knew it," Phil cried. "You took her too far, too fast, and now you've triggered her! Have you any idea what kind of chaos you've just unleashed?"
Jared released Phil from his restraints. "Hurry! Do something! Bring her back! You must know how."
Phil shook his head. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."
Machines about the room began cracking and creaking. Any form of glass exploded abruptly and for no reason. Jared and Jessie quickly rushed everyone out of the room, shutting the door and trying to barricade the triggered powers within the confined space.
Phil walked over to Luca and gently put his hand on the side of her face. "Luca? It's Phil. Follow my voice, please? Come back to the surface. It's just an image."
He jumped back slightly when Luca turned to him and opened her eyes. They were solid black, as if her eye sockets were empty. Her voice echoed and quaked in a near demonic voice, "It's... not... just... an... image! You... don't... know..."
"I do!" He insisted. "I know what they did to you in the past. I know your fear of fire because of what they did... I know you lost your family and got forced into all of this... but that's no reason to destroy everyone that care about you now, Luca..." He shivered hard as her hand suddenly grasped his so hard he could feel his bones bending beneath the pressure. His breathing came out in shivering gasps as he tried to ignore the pain and his own fear.
A voice came from behind the door, "What's going on in there?"
Jessie turned. "Jim! No, stay out there."
Jared shook his head. "No, wait! Maybe Jim can help Phil... Jim has metaphysical powers."
Phil nodded. "Bring him in, and hurry..."
Jessie removed the chair from beneath the door and quickly opened it. In walked a young man with light red hair. His dark eyes quickly surveyed the situation, and he reached into his pocket. He absorbed a green stone into his right palm, his hair and body turning a strange green color and his eyes becoming white and red. "Okay, what's the problem?"
"We were trying to examine her powers, but we seem to have accidentally triggered a memory that triggered her chaos energies," Jared explained, trembling. "Phil has been trying to bring her back, as we've lost control of her, and he can't."
"I'm not strong enough," Phil said again. "Please help."
The pale, green teenager walked over and put two fingers on Luca's forehead. He closed his eyes and read her soul. "She's troubled and conflicted. Very damaged and highly volatile. This isn't the sort of spirit you go playing with, Jared," he scolded his cousin. "Now then, Phil... what's your power?"
Phil blinked, wondering what the significance of his abilities were. "Revival, stability..." He paused. "Calm and comforting..."
Jim smiled. "Okay. I'm going to enhance your consolation abilities with my own life force. You're only going to have thirty seconds to a minute to place a calming curse, so be quick."
Phil nodded and slid the ring onto his finger. He winced as he stared down at his other hand, which was being squeezed to the point it was about to shatter. He yelped softly as a machine three feet away erupted into flames. "Hurry!" He cried.
Jim maintained a strange degree of calmness. He placed his hands on Phil's shoulders and closed his eyes, beginning to drain his own life energy. "My force is yours," he instructed. "Go now!"
Phil felt his body quaking from the two life forces inhabiting it. He quickly grasped Luca's hand with his free hand, gripping hard and unconsciously digging his nails in. He closed his eyes tight and bowed his head, praying softly to himself as he hoped he could produce a strong enough calming curse. He felt a warm but soft energy erupting from himself and flowing into her. He opened his eyes and watched as his calming curse took effect, watching as Luca quivered, spasmed, and lapsed out into a state of unconsciousness.
"Nicely done," Jim praised. "She'll be fine now. No harm done."
Phil blinked and looked up and over his shoulder at the redheaded boy. "Thank you," he replied. "But I couldn't have done any of that without you. Who are you?"
The redhead smiled. "The name is Jim. I believe you're Phil, and I believe that we're each other's crossover."
I introduced Luca's crossover, Daniel, in one of the teasers... now it's time to bring Phil's crossover into the picture.
Here we go, the beginning of chapter two:
Everyone was surrounding the two returning members of the household as Jared continued explaining what he was about to do with them.
"We're not experiments," Phil insisted, primarily out of nervousness.
"It won't hurt you a bit," Jared assured. "Now that Jessie is home, she and I are going to use her psychic powers and my machines to investigate what kind of powers your Amethyst Medallion has. It's not going to hurt at all... provided you can block the images out."
"What's going to happen, exactly?" Luca asked. "Why did you strap us down in these chairs? Won't we be in trance?"
"Yes, but we don't know how volatile your powers are. So, in case you guys go ballistic and try to fire off attacks, we'll be somewhat protected."
"I don't like this idea," Phil whined. "This sounds dangerous and I don't want to do it."
"It's important," Jared insisted. "We have to know what kind of powers you two have brought along with you."
Phil scowled worriedly but said no more. He looked down at his restraints and sighed heavily. It was a bad idea. He knew it was. Something was going to happen. He felt it.
Jessie walked into the room. "I'm ready," she announced. "Are they?"
"Phil is doubtful, but Luca seems okay. Let's start with her." Jared turned to Phil. "Watch what happens with Luca, you'll see that nothing bad is going to happen to her."
Phil shook his head. "It's a bad idea, Jared. Really. You can't feel it, but I can. If you trigger her, something's going to happen..."
"You're being paranoid." Jared walked over to Luca. "Alright, Luca. We're going to induce a trance on you now."
Luca nodded. "Do whatever," she said, always fearless and ready.
Phil squirmed a little bit, highly anxious. He could feel it... why were they ignoring him? Sure, he wasn't as brave as his girlfriend... but he knew. He felt it. It almost hurt how badly he felt it. They'd bring up the past, and her destructive powers from the crossover dimension would be triggered... He laid back in the chair, pressing his back hard against it.
"Okay," Jared announced. "She's in trance. She's under our control now. It's time for us to see what kind of power she brought along."
Jessie nodded and began to glow a soft purple color. "We're going to start with how she got them..."
An image appeared on the screen. A large, beautiful palace. The night sky was cloudy and thunder rumbled in the distance.
Phil shivered a little, feeling the forces already starting to go to work. He closed his eyes tighter. He didn't want to see it. But he couldn't help but feel it -- the heat of the fire that swallowed up the palace and destroyed his girlfriend's family... the blaze that caused her permanent fear, permanent agony... the scar on her left forearm... It tortured him. How badly could it be hurting her? He heard her whining softly in the chair beside him.
"Pull her back," he murmured, pleading. "You don't know what you're doing. Pull her back. Please."
"Wait," Aaron insisted, "I want to see what happens next."
Phil yelled angrily, "It's not a movie! It's what really happened to her! Pull her back, you're going to trigger something very bad in her!"
Daniel blinked. For the first time since he'd known Phil, he never knew the young man to have a temper. Or feel anything besides a calm indifference. Seeing the burst of emotion made him realize that there was, indeed, a fighter's spirit locked somewhere deep inside of him. He also realized that if Phil was reacting this way, something was indeed going to happen.
"Stop it," he instructed his cousin, "before something does happen."
But it was too late. Phil jumped as the image on the screen suddenly disappeared, and yelped in time with everyone else as the screen exploded. He squirmed hard against his restraints, fearfully. "Pull her back, now!" He demanded.
Jared blinked and turned back towards Luca. Her eyes were closed tight and her whole body was shivering. Waves of energy emitted from her body.
"Bring her back!" Phil yelled.
Jared looked towards Jessie. "Bring her out."
Jessie shook her head in fright. "I've lost control of her..."
"I knew it," Phil cried. "You took her too far, too fast, and now you've triggered her! Have you any idea what kind of chaos you've just unleashed?"
Jared released Phil from his restraints. "Hurry! Do something! Bring her back! You must know how."
Phil shook his head. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."
Machines about the room began cracking and creaking. Any form of glass exploded abruptly and for no reason. Jared and Jessie quickly rushed everyone out of the room, shutting the door and trying to barricade the triggered powers within the confined space.
Phil walked over to Luca and gently put his hand on the side of her face. "Luca? It's Phil. Follow my voice, please? Come back to the surface. It's just an image."
He jumped back slightly when Luca turned to him and opened her eyes. They were solid black, as if her eye sockets were empty. Her voice echoed and quaked in a near demonic voice, "It's... not... just... an... image! You... don't... know..."
"I do!" He insisted. "I know what they did to you in the past. I know your fear of fire because of what they did... I know you lost your family and got forced into all of this... but that's no reason to destroy everyone that care about you now, Luca..." He shivered hard as her hand suddenly grasped his so hard he could feel his bones bending beneath the pressure. His breathing came out in shivering gasps as he tried to ignore the pain and his own fear.
A voice came from behind the door, "What's going on in there?"
Jessie turned. "Jim! No, stay out there."
Jared shook his head. "No, wait! Maybe Jim can help Phil... Jim has metaphysical powers."
Phil nodded. "Bring him in, and hurry..."
Jessie removed the chair from beneath the door and quickly opened it. In walked a young man with light red hair. His dark eyes quickly surveyed the situation, and he reached into his pocket. He absorbed a green stone into his right palm, his hair and body turning a strange green color and his eyes becoming white and red. "Okay, what's the problem?"
"We were trying to examine her powers, but we seem to have accidentally triggered a memory that triggered her chaos energies," Jared explained, trembling. "Phil has been trying to bring her back, as we've lost control of her, and he can't."
"I'm not strong enough," Phil said again. "Please help."
The pale, green teenager walked over and put two fingers on Luca's forehead. He closed his eyes and read her soul. "She's troubled and conflicted. Very damaged and highly volatile. This isn't the sort of spirit you go playing with, Jared," he scolded his cousin. "Now then, Phil... what's your power?"
Phil blinked, wondering what the significance of his abilities were. "Revival, stability..." He paused. "Calm and comforting..."
Jim smiled. "Okay. I'm going to enhance your consolation abilities with my own life force. You're only going to have thirty seconds to a minute to place a calming curse, so be quick."
Phil nodded and slid the ring onto his finger. He winced as he stared down at his other hand, which was being squeezed to the point it was about to shatter. He yelped softly as a machine three feet away erupted into flames. "Hurry!" He cried.
Jim maintained a strange degree of calmness. He placed his hands on Phil's shoulders and closed his eyes, beginning to drain his own life energy. "My force is yours," he instructed. "Go now!"
Phil felt his body quaking from the two life forces inhabiting it. He quickly grasped Luca's hand with his free hand, gripping hard and unconsciously digging his nails in. He closed his eyes tight and bowed his head, praying softly to himself as he hoped he could produce a strong enough calming curse. He felt a warm but soft energy erupting from himself and flowing into her. He opened his eyes and watched as his calming curse took effect, watching as Luca quivered, spasmed, and lapsed out into a state of unconsciousness.
"Nicely done," Jim praised. "She'll be fine now. No harm done."
Phil blinked and looked up and over his shoulder at the redheaded boy. "Thank you," he replied. "But I couldn't have done any of that without you. Who are you?"
The redhead smiled. "The name is Jim. I believe you're Phil, and I believe that we're each other's crossover."
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Movie Quote.
I was watching a Street Fighter movie when one of the characters said this:
I never knew how much strength a person could gain by protecting someone they love. I guess that's my special power.
It makes me happy.
I never knew how much strength a person could gain by protecting someone they love. I guess that's my special power.
It makes me happy.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
You know when you find yourself in a conversation that makes you both smile and get teary-eyed (or even cry) at the same time?
Where you feel your heart both warmed and broken by what you hear?
Where it makes you happy but also makes you hurt inside?
...I love and hate those instances.
All I can say is thank you for such a deep and meaningful conversation. I think I really needed it.
Thank you. So much.
Where you feel your heart both warmed and broken by what you hear?
Where it makes you happy but also makes you hurt inside?
...I love and hate those instances.
All I can say is thank you for such a deep and meaningful conversation. I think I really needed it.
Thank you. So much.
Completely from the Blue.
Sometimes things just hit you randomly... stop you dead in your tracks and make you wonder why, somewhere in the depths of your mind, you're daring to have such a thought.
This... is one of those moments for me.
Inability
These eyes, they see in paths so twisted
These lips, they utter words so strange
This sanity, it never truly existed
This brain has always been deranged.
And what do you have to say about me?
I've become a creature society rejected!
I'm given a label of which I'll never be free
Simply because difference is unaccepted.
Will you force me to conform?
Will you so willingly hold me down?
Are you forcing me to transform
So that I'm not just another clown?
But what if this is who I am!
What if I've embraced who I've become!
And look at you! You stamp and you slam
My thoughts down as being dumb!
Why should I dance upon your stage?
Whyever should my words come from your script?
What's the point of locking me in this cage
If all you're going to do is tear and strip
Away everything that brings me to live,
Especially if I'm not what you really want?
Stop holding on, goddamnit it, just give
Me back my life and stop all of these haunts
That make me believe that I'm so wrong--
That I'm demented, you've got me convinced--
Insisting that I'm messed up for my life long
Demanding I absorb the "advice" you've dispensed.
But your words of wisdom are so incorrect
There is no logic in a view so closed
You never bother to give an opinion respect--
Another view presented to you is simply disposed.
I hope you know this is not at all fair
And I just can't see why the negative standard
Is placed upon people who actually dare
To be different... for that, their names are slandered?
So think long and hard about where we are
And comprehend that you and I have different "stability"
Why not dare to open your eyes and see the scars
I wear simply because of your open-minded inability.
This... is one of those moments for me.
These eyes, they see in paths so twisted
These lips, they utter words so strange
This sanity, it never truly existed
This brain has always been deranged.
And what do you have to say about me?
I've become a creature society rejected!
I'm given a label of which I'll never be free
Simply because difference is unaccepted.
Will you force me to conform?
Will you so willingly hold me down?
Are you forcing me to transform
So that I'm not just another clown?
But what if this is who I am!
What if I've embraced who I've become!
And look at you! You stamp and you slam
My thoughts down as being dumb!
Why should I dance upon your stage?
Whyever should my words come from your script?
What's the point of locking me in this cage
If all you're going to do is tear and strip
Away everything that brings me to live,
Especially if I'm not what you really want?
Stop holding on, goddamnit it, just give
Me back my life and stop all of these haunts
That make me believe that I'm so wrong--
That I'm demented, you've got me convinced--
Insisting that I'm messed up for my life long
Demanding I absorb the "advice" you've dispensed.
But your words of wisdom are so incorrect
There is no logic in a view so closed
You never bother to give an opinion respect--
Another view presented to you is simply disposed.
I hope you know this is not at all fair
And I just can't see why the negative standard
Is placed upon people who actually dare
To be different... for that, their names are slandered?
So think long and hard about where we are
And comprehend that you and I have different "stability"
Why not dare to open your eyes and see the scars
I wear simply because of your open-minded inability.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Another Sequel Teaser Piece
I'm trying to get my head clear again after my first dose of my new medications sent me into a haze. So the best way I see to get my head out of the proverbial clouds? Writing another teaser piece.
This is going to be from Chapter Two of the sequel... Jim and Daniel, the Mushroom Kingdom's best Twin Bond fighters, have to train their new apprentices the art of connected battling. And while Luca is normally the difficult one, it seems that Phil is unwilling to let go of a major weakness in their way...
(And I admit I was a sucker for the friendly bonding scene at the end. Then again, I'm weird like that.)
***
"We're the best Twin Bond fighters in the entire dimension," Daniel explained with far too much pride on his voice. He sounded downright egotistical.
"That's because we're the only ones besides our crossovers," Jim sighed while rolling his eyes. He then turned to Luca and Phil and smiled calmly. "Okay, the form of connected battling is very difficult to learn. I'm not going to lie. It took Daniel and I several weeks to master it."
"Then again, we've never seen a Twin Bond on a set of people who weren't siblings," Daniel shrugged. "So we don't know what it's going to be like for you guys."
Jim nodded.
Daniel continued, "In connected battling, you often have one person doing the phyiscal fighting while the other controls the energy levels that the fighting one uses. If the person maintaining the energies, or the 'controller,' fails to do his part correctly, the one fighting, obviously the 'fighter,' will overexert himself and lose strength and stamina."
"In other words, being the controller is the harder of the two roles," Jim commented. "Trust me on this... I'm the controller between Daniel and I."
"Explain a little more how the controller works," Daniel instructed his brother.
"I was getting to it," Jim sniped. He turned to Luca and Phil, who were both listening with a remarkable amount of patience. "Okay. Like Daniel said, the controller maintains the levels of energy flowing between himself and the fighter. The controller can send little bursts of his own energy -- or his own powers even -- to the fighter if he thinks the fighter is in peril. All of the fighter's strength depends on the controller's ability to control himself."
"I don't get it," Luca said, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"If the controller can't watch the battle with a complete lack of emotion or feeling towards the fighter, then the fighter's abilities suffer. The controller has to be able to shut off all his emotions and completely disconnect from the fighter. You can't feel sympathetic towards the fighter when he gets attacked, you can't wince when he gets struck. You have to let go of your partner if you want them to make it out alive."
Luca nodded her head. "Oh, I get it now."
Phil said nothing verbally... instead, his expression told the story for him.
Daniel jumped into the large bubble-shaped dome that Jared had constructed. "I think I want to take on my crossover. I want to see just how good she thinks she is."
Luca smirked. "I've been waiting for this for a long time now. You're on!"
Jim rested his hand on his crossover's shoulder. "Okay, Phil, you're going to be the controller for this drill, and I'm going to be my brother's. Are you okay with that?"
"I guess," Phil answered with a great amount of uncertainty. He watched as his girlfriend eagerly leapt into the dome with her crossover-turned-opponent.
Jim smiled reassuringly. "It's not a real battle, Phil. It's only practice."
"But the damage is going to be real," the crossover replied dismally.
"If we don't practice, what's going to happen if you two get out in the field and run into trouble? The enemies aren't going to care about it then. C'mon, you can do this."
But I'm not willing to let her go, Phil thought with a shudder. I can't stop caring about her, even for the sake of winning a fight.
Jared closed the dome on the four players, activating the training mode. The dome turned into a desert-like arena. Luca stood with her sword in her hand, while Daniel stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets with his trademark smirk on his face. Jim stepped into a white-chalk box on the far side of the field, and both he and Daniel began glowing a silvery green.
"We're ready over here," Jim announced.
Phil inhaled deeply and stepped backwards a few paces, until he was also in a white-chalk box. He felt a shiver run through himself, then noticed he and Luca were both flickering a purplish, glimmering red. "I guess we're set over here," he declared as nonchalantly as he could.
Jared's voice came overhead. "Both sides are ready. In three... two... one..."
Daniel leapt forward as the last of the countdown expired. "Let the games begin!"
Luca easily matched his speed. "Bring it on, crossover."
Phil took a moment to look over towards his own crossover. He noticed Jim was standing straight and tall, his eyes bearing no emotion and his face without expression. He simply clenched and unclenched his left and right fists, which was obviously how the energy flows were controlled between the two brothers. Phil took a second to ponder if he could even do this, when a large white flicker of light caught his attention.
Daniel thrust a white ball of light from his hand. "C'mon, crossover, let's see what you've got!"
Luca stood her ground, her eyes narrowed and her grip tightening on her sword. Phil felt a slight pulse on his left side, determining that to be the connection telling him she was using up too much energy. He tightened his left fist a little, and saw her glow brighter. Had he done it right?
Luca spun on her heel and swung her sword like a bat, making contact with the white blast and knocking it back towards its original master. She offered no response, but instead wore a nasty smirk on her face. As the white ball launched Daniel across the arena, she rushed forward with her sword in striking position. It began to glow black.
Halfway across the arena, Luca suddenly froze where she stood. Phil felt his left side sharply cramp, and he reminded himself not to wince. He stared out towards the field, wondering had caused her to stop.
Daniel stood up, his left hand pointed at his opponent. "You thought that was going to keep me down? You may be the best in your world, but we're in mine now. And I'm gonna show you what happens to pretenders in my world..."
Daniel levitated from the ground and hovered a few feet above the arena. He raised his left arm, causing Luca to lift up involuntarily. She writhed but was unable to squirm loose.
Phil was watching, eyes widened and both fists tightly clenched. Unable to let go of his concern for her, he had blocked off all her access to their energy supplies. He glanced to Jim, who easily released his left hand and tightened his right. Daniel was in possession of all his and his brother's strength.
And he wasn't afraid to use it. He swung his left hand and opened his palm, immediately firing a white orb with his right. Luca flew helplessly through the air, taking her sword and trying to slow her rapid descent with it. The white orb connected with her, launching her into the ground below. The dust didn't even get to clear before Daniel launched himself forward with another barrage of little white orbs.
"Phil, what are you doing?" Jim yelled across the platform. "You've locked her out of the energy stream!"
Phil shivered hard, then realized what he'd done. He released his left hand. "Luca, get up!" He demanded, though sounding more panicked. "Get up and show this kid who's in control!"
Luca swung her blade upward with a violent amount of force. Daniel tumbled backwards through the air for a moment, and then regained his control. However, Luca emerged from the crater that she had created in her landing, hovering in the air and swinging her sword wildly. There was no pauses between each swing; and each one used a vast amount of her strength. Within two minutes, she was exhausted and slowly started lowering to the ground.
Daniel shook his head. "Okay, I'm bored with the silly toying." His entire body began flickering green and silver, and a large beam erupted from both his hands. It quickly swallowed Luca's figure up, and the arena felt nearly ready to implode from the amount of energy within it.
"Stop it!" Phil cried abruptly, unwilling to watch any more. "Enough is enough! Leave her alone!"
Jim clenched both his fists, blocking off his brother's access to the energy stream. He shook his head sadly at his crossover, who left his post and rushed out onto the field.
Daniel easily lowered himself to the floor. "That was easier than I thought."
Jim walked over. "Daniel, hush."
"Luca, I'm sorry," Phil said softly to her. "I just couldn't let go. I just couldn't."
Luca said nothing, instead leaning into her boyfriend's arms and lapsing into unconsciousness.
"She'll be fine," Jim reassured his crossover. "Give her time to rest and she'll be back to normal. Jared made this mode so that once one opponent lapses out, all the nasty effects immediately are cancelled. So, it's just like she did a lot of exercising and needs a nap."
Phil blinked his eyes rapidly a few times, feeling like he could cry if he didn't fight it off. He looked down at his resting girlfriend and held her tightly to himself. "Okay," he said quietly, almost to himself.
"Come on," Jim spoke in a gentle voice, "let's put her on the couch and let her sleep."
***
Phil sat on the top step of the porch, leaned against a column and staring out into the distance. At the farthest point on the horizon, he could see the lights of the city as the night gently crept down on the earth. Normally it was a sight he really enjoyed, but his mind was too far distracted to take in the simple pleasure of the coming of the night.
"Hey," a voice came from behind him. Remarkably, it was Daniel.
"Hi," Phil answered in a near whisper, still lost in his own world.
"Can I sit?" Daniel asked, walking over.
"It's your house."
"I know, but sometimes people just want to be left alone." Daniel sat down next to him. "Me of all people can understand that."
Phil made no noise in response, instead closing his eyes and leaning harder on the column.
"Don't let this get you so down, Phil," Daniel finally said softly, cautiously.
"I failed her, okay?" Phil finally declared aloud, though more to himself. "I was supposed to keep everything balanced for her, and I failed. And what happened? She got hurt."
Daniel smiled sadly. "That's why I could never be the controller."
Phil stopped in the middle of his tirade and looked at the younger boy. He'd never heard Daniel admit any kind of weakness at all. In fact, he was convinced that Daniel was sure he knew everything. It was a change, and it made him feel taken aback. "You? You, who is supposedly the best at everything?"
"We all have our weaknesses, Phil. And mine happens to be my brother."
"If I can ask, why? Jim was so easily able to disconnect from you. I saw it on his face, in his eyes. I felt it, and I was standing so far away."
Daniel looked down at his blue shoes. "Jim abandoned me when he and I were kids. He was young... he didn't mean to hurt me. Or our little sister. But he did. A lot. More than he'll ever know." He shuddered. "More than I ever want him to know."
"I'm sorry," Phil replied softly, feeling awful for having drug up such feelings.
"It's okay," Daniel said, the smirk returning to his face.
"Daniel, is it worth it?"
"What?"
"Always being the strong and brave one. Always being the one that people can count on. Is it worth it?"
Daniel quickly looked away, but not before a stray tear could be seen escaping the corner of one of his eyes. "Heavens yes."
"Don't lie." Phil shook his head. "You forget I can tell when my girlfriend is lying, and she was a rogue with no care for anyone or anything. I can tell that you, a protector with everyone's best interests at heart, aren't telling the truth."
"No, Phil. Sometimes it really isn't worth it. Because I'm not as tough as everyone believes. I chose to be the fighter between Jim and I because I was too weak to disconnect from him. Because I never thought I'd get to see my brother again, and I got this second chance... I could never bring myself to tear my emotions and love away from him."
"I think it sounds pretty tough to me," Phil said with a shrug. "He's the weak one... if he can so easily disconnect from you and not care what happens to you... that sounds weak to me."
"Maybe we shouldn't teach you and Luca the form of connected battling," Daniel finally said. "Maybe you two are best left to fight at each other's side."
"That's how we've always done it, and I couldn't ever see it being any other way."
Daniel got up. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Nobody had seen you for a while."
"I was just thinking," Phil shrugged, looking back out at the twilight.
Daniel began to walk back into the house, but stopped. Without turning or without trying to catch anyone's attention, he softly murmured, "I'm jealous of the way you and Luca are. I'm jealous at your connection."
Phil said nothing in response. He simply leaned against the column and stared out at the nighttime city, feeling the simple joy returning to him.
This is going to be from Chapter Two of the sequel... Jim and Daniel, the Mushroom Kingdom's best Twin Bond fighters, have to train their new apprentices the art of connected battling. And while Luca is normally the difficult one, it seems that Phil is unwilling to let go of a major weakness in their way...
(And I admit I was a sucker for the friendly bonding scene at the end. Then again, I'm weird like that.)
***
"We're the best Twin Bond fighters in the entire dimension," Daniel explained with far too much pride on his voice. He sounded downright egotistical.
"That's because we're the only ones besides our crossovers," Jim sighed while rolling his eyes. He then turned to Luca and Phil and smiled calmly. "Okay, the form of connected battling is very difficult to learn. I'm not going to lie. It took Daniel and I several weeks to master it."
"Then again, we've never seen a Twin Bond on a set of people who weren't siblings," Daniel shrugged. "So we don't know what it's going to be like for you guys."
Jim nodded.
Daniel continued, "In connected battling, you often have one person doing the phyiscal fighting while the other controls the energy levels that the fighting one uses. If the person maintaining the energies, or the 'controller,' fails to do his part correctly, the one fighting, obviously the 'fighter,' will overexert himself and lose strength and stamina."
"In other words, being the controller is the harder of the two roles," Jim commented. "Trust me on this... I'm the controller between Daniel and I."
"Explain a little more how the controller works," Daniel instructed his brother.
"I was getting to it," Jim sniped. He turned to Luca and Phil, who were both listening with a remarkable amount of patience. "Okay. Like Daniel said, the controller maintains the levels of energy flowing between himself and the fighter. The controller can send little bursts of his own energy -- or his own powers even -- to the fighter if he thinks the fighter is in peril. All of the fighter's strength depends on the controller's ability to control himself."
"I don't get it," Luca said, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"If the controller can't watch the battle with a complete lack of emotion or feeling towards the fighter, then the fighter's abilities suffer. The controller has to be able to shut off all his emotions and completely disconnect from the fighter. You can't feel sympathetic towards the fighter when he gets attacked, you can't wince when he gets struck. You have to let go of your partner if you want them to make it out alive."
Luca nodded her head. "Oh, I get it now."
Phil said nothing verbally... instead, his expression told the story for him.
Daniel jumped into the large bubble-shaped dome that Jared had constructed. "I think I want to take on my crossover. I want to see just how good she thinks she is."
Luca smirked. "I've been waiting for this for a long time now. You're on!"
Jim rested his hand on his crossover's shoulder. "Okay, Phil, you're going to be the controller for this drill, and I'm going to be my brother's. Are you okay with that?"
"I guess," Phil answered with a great amount of uncertainty. He watched as his girlfriend eagerly leapt into the dome with her crossover-turned-opponent.
Jim smiled reassuringly. "It's not a real battle, Phil. It's only practice."
"But the damage is going to be real," the crossover replied dismally.
"If we don't practice, what's going to happen if you two get out in the field and run into trouble? The enemies aren't going to care about it then. C'mon, you can do this."
But I'm not willing to let her go, Phil thought with a shudder. I can't stop caring about her, even for the sake of winning a fight.
Jared closed the dome on the four players, activating the training mode. The dome turned into a desert-like arena. Luca stood with her sword in her hand, while Daniel stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets with his trademark smirk on his face. Jim stepped into a white-chalk box on the far side of the field, and both he and Daniel began glowing a silvery green.
"We're ready over here," Jim announced.
Phil inhaled deeply and stepped backwards a few paces, until he was also in a white-chalk box. He felt a shiver run through himself, then noticed he and Luca were both flickering a purplish, glimmering red. "I guess we're set over here," he declared as nonchalantly as he could.
Jared's voice came overhead. "Both sides are ready. In three... two... one..."
Daniel leapt forward as the last of the countdown expired. "Let the games begin!"
Luca easily matched his speed. "Bring it on, crossover."
Phil took a moment to look over towards his own crossover. He noticed Jim was standing straight and tall, his eyes bearing no emotion and his face without expression. He simply clenched and unclenched his left and right fists, which was obviously how the energy flows were controlled between the two brothers. Phil took a second to ponder if he could even do this, when a large white flicker of light caught his attention.
Daniel thrust a white ball of light from his hand. "C'mon, crossover, let's see what you've got!"
Luca stood her ground, her eyes narrowed and her grip tightening on her sword. Phil felt a slight pulse on his left side, determining that to be the connection telling him she was using up too much energy. He tightened his left fist a little, and saw her glow brighter. Had he done it right?
Luca spun on her heel and swung her sword like a bat, making contact with the white blast and knocking it back towards its original master. She offered no response, but instead wore a nasty smirk on her face. As the white ball launched Daniel across the arena, she rushed forward with her sword in striking position. It began to glow black.
Halfway across the arena, Luca suddenly froze where she stood. Phil felt his left side sharply cramp, and he reminded himself not to wince. He stared out towards the field, wondering had caused her to stop.
Daniel stood up, his left hand pointed at his opponent. "You thought that was going to keep me down? You may be the best in your world, but we're in mine now. And I'm gonna show you what happens to pretenders in my world..."
Daniel levitated from the ground and hovered a few feet above the arena. He raised his left arm, causing Luca to lift up involuntarily. She writhed but was unable to squirm loose.
Phil was watching, eyes widened and both fists tightly clenched. Unable to let go of his concern for her, he had blocked off all her access to their energy supplies. He glanced to Jim, who easily released his left hand and tightened his right. Daniel was in possession of all his and his brother's strength.
And he wasn't afraid to use it. He swung his left hand and opened his palm, immediately firing a white orb with his right. Luca flew helplessly through the air, taking her sword and trying to slow her rapid descent with it. The white orb connected with her, launching her into the ground below. The dust didn't even get to clear before Daniel launched himself forward with another barrage of little white orbs.
"Phil, what are you doing?" Jim yelled across the platform. "You've locked her out of the energy stream!"
Phil shivered hard, then realized what he'd done. He released his left hand. "Luca, get up!" He demanded, though sounding more panicked. "Get up and show this kid who's in control!"
Luca swung her blade upward with a violent amount of force. Daniel tumbled backwards through the air for a moment, and then regained his control. However, Luca emerged from the crater that she had created in her landing, hovering in the air and swinging her sword wildly. There was no pauses between each swing; and each one used a vast amount of her strength. Within two minutes, she was exhausted and slowly started lowering to the ground.
Daniel shook his head. "Okay, I'm bored with the silly toying." His entire body began flickering green and silver, and a large beam erupted from both his hands. It quickly swallowed Luca's figure up, and the arena felt nearly ready to implode from the amount of energy within it.
"Stop it!" Phil cried abruptly, unwilling to watch any more. "Enough is enough! Leave her alone!"
Jim clenched both his fists, blocking off his brother's access to the energy stream. He shook his head sadly at his crossover, who left his post and rushed out onto the field.
Daniel easily lowered himself to the floor. "That was easier than I thought."
Jim walked over. "Daniel, hush."
"Luca, I'm sorry," Phil said softly to her. "I just couldn't let go. I just couldn't."
Luca said nothing, instead leaning into her boyfriend's arms and lapsing into unconsciousness.
"She'll be fine," Jim reassured his crossover. "Give her time to rest and she'll be back to normal. Jared made this mode so that once one opponent lapses out, all the nasty effects immediately are cancelled. So, it's just like she did a lot of exercising and needs a nap."
Phil blinked his eyes rapidly a few times, feeling like he could cry if he didn't fight it off. He looked down at his resting girlfriend and held her tightly to himself. "Okay," he said quietly, almost to himself.
"Come on," Jim spoke in a gentle voice, "let's put her on the couch and let her sleep."
Phil sat on the top step of the porch, leaned against a column and staring out into the distance. At the farthest point on the horizon, he could see the lights of the city as the night gently crept down on the earth. Normally it was a sight he really enjoyed, but his mind was too far distracted to take in the simple pleasure of the coming of the night.
"Hey," a voice came from behind him. Remarkably, it was Daniel.
"Hi," Phil answered in a near whisper, still lost in his own world.
"Can I sit?" Daniel asked, walking over.
"It's your house."
"I know, but sometimes people just want to be left alone." Daniel sat down next to him. "Me of all people can understand that."
Phil made no noise in response, instead closing his eyes and leaning harder on the column.
"Don't let this get you so down, Phil," Daniel finally said softly, cautiously.
"I failed her, okay?" Phil finally declared aloud, though more to himself. "I was supposed to keep everything balanced for her, and I failed. And what happened? She got hurt."
Daniel smiled sadly. "That's why I could never be the controller."
Phil stopped in the middle of his tirade and looked at the younger boy. He'd never heard Daniel admit any kind of weakness at all. In fact, he was convinced that Daniel was sure he knew everything. It was a change, and it made him feel taken aback. "You? You, who is supposedly the best at everything?"
"We all have our weaknesses, Phil. And mine happens to be my brother."
"If I can ask, why? Jim was so easily able to disconnect from you. I saw it on his face, in his eyes. I felt it, and I was standing so far away."
Daniel looked down at his blue shoes. "Jim abandoned me when he and I were kids. He was young... he didn't mean to hurt me. Or our little sister. But he did. A lot. More than he'll ever know." He shuddered. "More than I ever want him to know."
"I'm sorry," Phil replied softly, feeling awful for having drug up such feelings.
"It's okay," Daniel said, the smirk returning to his face.
"Daniel, is it worth it?"
"What?"
"Always being the strong and brave one. Always being the one that people can count on. Is it worth it?"
Daniel quickly looked away, but not before a stray tear could be seen escaping the corner of one of his eyes. "Heavens yes."
"Don't lie." Phil shook his head. "You forget I can tell when my girlfriend is lying, and she was a rogue with no care for anyone or anything. I can tell that you, a protector with everyone's best interests at heart, aren't telling the truth."
"No, Phil. Sometimes it really isn't worth it. Because I'm not as tough as everyone believes. I chose to be the fighter between Jim and I because I was too weak to disconnect from him. Because I never thought I'd get to see my brother again, and I got this second chance... I could never bring myself to tear my emotions and love away from him."
"I think it sounds pretty tough to me," Phil said with a shrug. "He's the weak one... if he can so easily disconnect from you and not care what happens to you... that sounds weak to me."
"Maybe we shouldn't teach you and Luca the form of connected battling," Daniel finally said. "Maybe you two are best left to fight at each other's side."
"That's how we've always done it, and I couldn't ever see it being any other way."
Daniel got up. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Nobody had seen you for a while."
"I was just thinking," Phil shrugged, looking back out at the twilight.
Daniel began to walk back into the house, but stopped. Without turning or without trying to catch anyone's attention, he softly murmured, "I'm jealous of the way you and Luca are. I'm jealous at your connection."
Phil said nothing in response. He simply leaned against the column and stared out at the nighttime city, feeling the simple joy returning to him.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Crossover Sequel Teaser
So I decided that for the sequel of my original crossover story... instead of maintaining two parallel dimensions... the two worlds instead will merge. The two greatest villians of each dimension "merge" together, and it'll take all four of the two worlds' protectors to bring any sort of order to their dimensions.
Anyway, here's a teaser from the first chapter... it starts somewhere in the middle of the chapter, hence why the beginning may leave most a little lost.
The transition from their own dimension into the Mushroom Kingdom was an easy trip, made easier by the fact that they were prepared for it. They easily landed on their feet in the middle of the Forest of Illusion, standing upright to look up at the sky through the canopy of leaves above.
"Luca, is it meant to be this dark?" Phil asked in an anxious voice, pointing up through the trees. "What time is it here?"
"I don't know," she replied. "I haven't gotten my stuff back. But I can tell you this..."
"...Something's definitely not right," he finished for her. "I feel it, too."
The sky above them was a strange purplish black, the clouds pulsing and rolling with a quiet violence. The air around them felt extremely heavy with some kind of spiritual force, and the woods around them were very still. The travelers looked up at the sky again, and then at each other.
"Phil... We have to get to Jared, and quickly," Luca finally said, taking command of the situation.
Phil nodded his head, more than willing to take orders at that particular moment in time. The only time he'd felt a force that chilled him to his soul was... He shuddered to think about it. No, I refuse to accept that it might be that again, he thought to himself.
The travelers held a close formation as they ventured towards their destination... the little house in Star Town.
***
Jared stood out on the porch, unconsciously gripping one of the columns as if it were the only thing he had left in his life to hold onto. Deep within his blue eyes, panic and despair danced about. His face bore no expression of which to determine a mood, but he didn't have to have any emotion written on his form -- it was etched into his aura.
He'd never had such a nightmare in his life. It had come to him just two nights before... a scene of complete bedlam. Two worlds colliding with such violence that the two worlds became "tangled" within one another, areas only accessible by hidden warp spots... Six family members taken captive, their essences locked within pendants and strewn about the new terrain. A seventh person not yet known, but soon targeted. Two great forces of evil combining into one terrifying overlord. Countless executions brought about for no reason whatsoever. The world slowly absorbed in the depths of malevolence.
It was a horrid, horrid nightmare that had him bolt upright in the dead of night nearly suffering a heart attack. Not only because it was such a dark dream -- but because his dreams always came true. Always.
His eyes looked up at the dark, rumbling sky. A thunderstorm was brewing in the heavens above. Could it be the Stars knew of the impending danger? Surely they did... the Stars knew all. Suddenly two old but surprisingly familiar voices penetrated his shield of thoughts:
"Jared!" Luca yelled out as she emerged from the woods.
"What's going on?" Phil asked as he walked up to his girlfriend's side.
For a minute, Jared couldn't speak. He didn't think he'd ever see his otherworldly friends again. He stared at them as if they were the dead reborn, his mouth slightly agape with the pleasantly shocked expression of surprise. He ran forward and embraced both of his friends.
"Luca! Phil! You two are back!" He cried. "How? And not to be rude, but why?"
"We had a dream back in our world," Luca explained.
Phil was busy scanning the area silently with his eyes, a very uncomfortable expression of concern and fear on his face.
"That if we didn't come back here to help, both this world and our own world would completely crumble. In the dream, the ground was turning to dust and falling into an empty void... we were trying to outrun it, but the faster we ran, the faster the world chased us." Luca stiffened her spine a bit, refusing to show her dread of the dream's recalling. "We were told where we could find a hidden pathway with which we could get ourselves here... and here we are."
Jared listened intently, nodding his head every now and again. So, they'd both had a vision of it, too. That made him feel extremely nauseous. "I dreamt, too, of our worlds. But in my dream, they seemed to have merged to form an entirely new landscape. Some kind of extreme evil is about to fall over our worlds, and I think it's going to take all of us working together to bring peace back."
"Luca," Phil finally spoke up, "I think our abilities from our world transferred over to here."
"Why do you think that?" She asked of her boyfriend, noting a rather odd tone in his voice.
He pointed towards the back of the house. "I know I don't have the abilities from here yet, but I swear on my life I just saw something -- somebody -- sneaking towards the house. And they didn't like the fact that I saw them." He was still relatively unacquainted with the ability to sense and see beyond the living realm. It still disturbed him quite a bit, but he was learning to cope. If Luca could handle it and stand strong, so could he. He had to be tough... he had to be able to protect her. There was no other choice.
Luca snatched her sword from her side, causing Jared to jump back slightly. He'd never seen anyone using a sword... a "benefit" of living in a more futuristic dimension, if a person would call it that. She took half a stone from her pocket and placed it in the handle of her sword, clenching it tight as it transformed into a blade of dark purple fire.
"Check it, you were right!" She praised her boyfriend as their set of abilities activated.
"What are you doing?" He asked quickly.
"Stopping whatever you just saw before somebody gets hurt."
The two young men watched as the lone female leapt forward with amazing speed. They both stood in a strange silence for a moment, simply watching her.
"She's still the same old Luca," Jared murmured softly.
"Indeed," Phil replied. "Now let's catch up before she gets in over her head."
"Just like normal?"
"Just like normal."
They ran to catch up to Luca, hoping that she'd not gotten too deep into trouble before they got there. Up ahead they heard the metallic clanging of her sword against something, the entire back side of the house a blazing amethyst hue. They turned the corner and both stopped dead in their tracks... but for different reasons.
Jared had never seen anything like it.
Phil had seen it way too many times, and was immensely disturbed.
Luca yelped with effort and thrust her flaming blade forward, spinning in a graceful motion that successfully slashed the creature in half. She flicked the blade again, launching the defeated creature's head into the air. A few seconds later it fell back down, and she easily caught it in her hand.
It was a skeleton's skull.
"Wh... what was that?" Jared asked, his voice quivering in distress.
Phil didn't answer, but instead stared at the skull as if it could pop back to life at any moment.
Luca walked over. "I know I don't have to say this to Phil, but Jared, you're not informed."
"What?" Jared asked. "What do you not need to say to Phil?"
Phil answered softly, somberly, "That there's more where this came from."
"What do you guys mean?"
"They attack in packs," Phil explained. "Normally no less than five or ten."
"What are those?"
"Our enemies from back home." Luca responded, dropping the skull on the ground and crushing it beneath her foot. She and Phil both stared down at the bone fragments with a strange expression upon their face. Jared had never seen it before... such a look of hidden fears and forced strengths. A grave expression symbolizing just how serious the threat was. Even Phil, who was easily more anxious and timid than his girlfriend, was braver than anybody he'd ever seen. For the both of them to show such despair and distress... Jared wanted so badly for it to be a nightmare. He wanted nothing more than to wake up in his bed and laugh at himself for having such a dream.
"We've been followed," Phil finally declared slowly.
Luca nodded, and then narrowed her eyes as they refilled with their typical fiery courage. Only the flame burned stronger now. "Then we'll teach them for butting in where they don't belong."
A new voice entered the conversation. Young, masculine, gentle yet full of bravery. "If they come in packs of five or better, you're going to need help."
The three turned around to find themselves looking at what looked to be a very young boy. He was very short and very frail in stature, and his clothes seemed to easily be two sizes too big. His dirty blonde hair seemed like it never was trimmed nor ever saw a brush. But beneath his bushy bangs, his light green eyes shown with the strength of a full grown man.
"Who are you?" Luca questioned, seeming a bit amused by the boy.
The boy walked over and grinned easily. "Show some respect for one of the greatest heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom, will you?"
Phil blinked. "You are...?" He couldn't make himself finish the question.
Jared smiled somewhat. "Luca? Phil? I'd like you to meet my cousin... the third Star Child of legend... my cousin, Daniel."
Anyway, here's a teaser from the first chapter... it starts somewhere in the middle of the chapter, hence why the beginning may leave most a little lost.
The transition from their own dimension into the Mushroom Kingdom was an easy trip, made easier by the fact that they were prepared for it. They easily landed on their feet in the middle of the Forest of Illusion, standing upright to look up at the sky through the canopy of leaves above.
"Luca, is it meant to be this dark?" Phil asked in an anxious voice, pointing up through the trees. "What time is it here?"
"I don't know," she replied. "I haven't gotten my stuff back. But I can tell you this..."
"...Something's definitely not right," he finished for her. "I feel it, too."
The sky above them was a strange purplish black, the clouds pulsing and rolling with a quiet violence. The air around them felt extremely heavy with some kind of spiritual force, and the woods around them were very still. The travelers looked up at the sky again, and then at each other.
"Phil... We have to get to Jared, and quickly," Luca finally said, taking command of the situation.
Phil nodded his head, more than willing to take orders at that particular moment in time. The only time he'd felt a force that chilled him to his soul was... He shuddered to think about it. No, I refuse to accept that it might be that again, he thought to himself.
The travelers held a close formation as they ventured towards their destination... the little house in Star Town.
Jared stood out on the porch, unconsciously gripping one of the columns as if it were the only thing he had left in his life to hold onto. Deep within his blue eyes, panic and despair danced about. His face bore no expression of which to determine a mood, but he didn't have to have any emotion written on his form -- it was etched into his aura.
He'd never had such a nightmare in his life. It had come to him just two nights before... a scene of complete bedlam. Two worlds colliding with such violence that the two worlds became "tangled" within one another, areas only accessible by hidden warp spots... Six family members taken captive, their essences locked within pendants and strewn about the new terrain. A seventh person not yet known, but soon targeted. Two great forces of evil combining into one terrifying overlord. Countless executions brought about for no reason whatsoever. The world slowly absorbed in the depths of malevolence.
It was a horrid, horrid nightmare that had him bolt upright in the dead of night nearly suffering a heart attack. Not only because it was such a dark dream -- but because his dreams always came true. Always.
His eyes looked up at the dark, rumbling sky. A thunderstorm was brewing in the heavens above. Could it be the Stars knew of the impending danger? Surely they did... the Stars knew all. Suddenly two old but surprisingly familiar voices penetrated his shield of thoughts:
"Jared!" Luca yelled out as she emerged from the woods.
"What's going on?" Phil asked as he walked up to his girlfriend's side.
For a minute, Jared couldn't speak. He didn't think he'd ever see his otherworldly friends again. He stared at them as if they were the dead reborn, his mouth slightly agape with the pleasantly shocked expression of surprise. He ran forward and embraced both of his friends.
"Luca! Phil! You two are back!" He cried. "How? And not to be rude, but why?"
"We had a dream back in our world," Luca explained.
Phil was busy scanning the area silently with his eyes, a very uncomfortable expression of concern and fear on his face.
"That if we didn't come back here to help, both this world and our own world would completely crumble. In the dream, the ground was turning to dust and falling into an empty void... we were trying to outrun it, but the faster we ran, the faster the world chased us." Luca stiffened her spine a bit, refusing to show her dread of the dream's recalling. "We were told where we could find a hidden pathway with which we could get ourselves here... and here we are."
Jared listened intently, nodding his head every now and again. So, they'd both had a vision of it, too. That made him feel extremely nauseous. "I dreamt, too, of our worlds. But in my dream, they seemed to have merged to form an entirely new landscape. Some kind of extreme evil is about to fall over our worlds, and I think it's going to take all of us working together to bring peace back."
"Luca," Phil finally spoke up, "I think our abilities from our world transferred over to here."
"Why do you think that?" She asked of her boyfriend, noting a rather odd tone in his voice.
He pointed towards the back of the house. "I know I don't have the abilities from here yet, but I swear on my life I just saw something -- somebody -- sneaking towards the house. And they didn't like the fact that I saw them." He was still relatively unacquainted with the ability to sense and see beyond the living realm. It still disturbed him quite a bit, but he was learning to cope. If Luca could handle it and stand strong, so could he. He had to be tough... he had to be able to protect her. There was no other choice.
Luca snatched her sword from her side, causing Jared to jump back slightly. He'd never seen anyone using a sword... a "benefit" of living in a more futuristic dimension, if a person would call it that. She took half a stone from her pocket and placed it in the handle of her sword, clenching it tight as it transformed into a blade of dark purple fire.
"Check it, you were right!" She praised her boyfriend as their set of abilities activated.
"What are you doing?" He asked quickly.
"Stopping whatever you just saw before somebody gets hurt."
The two young men watched as the lone female leapt forward with amazing speed. They both stood in a strange silence for a moment, simply watching her.
"She's still the same old Luca," Jared murmured softly.
"Indeed," Phil replied. "Now let's catch up before she gets in over her head."
"Just like normal?"
"Just like normal."
They ran to catch up to Luca, hoping that she'd not gotten too deep into trouble before they got there. Up ahead they heard the metallic clanging of her sword against something, the entire back side of the house a blazing amethyst hue. They turned the corner and both stopped dead in their tracks... but for different reasons.
Jared had never seen anything like it.
Phil had seen it way too many times, and was immensely disturbed.
Luca yelped with effort and thrust her flaming blade forward, spinning in a graceful motion that successfully slashed the creature in half. She flicked the blade again, launching the defeated creature's head into the air. A few seconds later it fell back down, and she easily caught it in her hand.
It was a skeleton's skull.
"Wh... what was that?" Jared asked, his voice quivering in distress.
Phil didn't answer, but instead stared at the skull as if it could pop back to life at any moment.
Luca walked over. "I know I don't have to say this to Phil, but Jared, you're not informed."
"What?" Jared asked. "What do you not need to say to Phil?"
Phil answered softly, somberly, "That there's more where this came from."
"What do you guys mean?"
"They attack in packs," Phil explained. "Normally no less than five or ten."
"What are those?"
"Our enemies from back home." Luca responded, dropping the skull on the ground and crushing it beneath her foot. She and Phil both stared down at the bone fragments with a strange expression upon their face. Jared had never seen it before... such a look of hidden fears and forced strengths. A grave expression symbolizing just how serious the threat was. Even Phil, who was easily more anxious and timid than his girlfriend, was braver than anybody he'd ever seen. For the both of them to show such despair and distress... Jared wanted so badly for it to be a nightmare. He wanted nothing more than to wake up in his bed and laugh at himself for having such a dream.
"We've been followed," Phil finally declared slowly.
Luca nodded, and then narrowed her eyes as they refilled with their typical fiery courage. Only the flame burned stronger now. "Then we'll teach them for butting in where they don't belong."
A new voice entered the conversation. Young, masculine, gentle yet full of bravery. "If they come in packs of five or better, you're going to need help."
The three turned around to find themselves looking at what looked to be a very young boy. He was very short and very frail in stature, and his clothes seemed to easily be two sizes too big. His dirty blonde hair seemed like it never was trimmed nor ever saw a brush. But beneath his bushy bangs, his light green eyes shown with the strength of a full grown man.
"Who are you?" Luca questioned, seeming a bit amused by the boy.
The boy walked over and grinned easily. "Show some respect for one of the greatest heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom, will you?"
Phil blinked. "You are...?" He couldn't make himself finish the question.
Jared smiled somewhat. "Luca? Phil? I'd like you to meet my cousin... the third Star Child of legend... my cousin, Daniel."
Lyrics Again.
I happened across an old song I used to like... and these lyrics really struck me. Hard.
God, don't you know I live with a ton of regret?
'Cause I used to move you in a way that you've never known
But then I accused you in a way that you've never known
But you hurt me in a way that I've never known...
Break Me Shake Me by Savage Garden.
I'm coming down off a really bad manic episode, and probably should try to sleep now.
I just couldn't get those lyrics off my mind.
'Cause I used to move you in a way that you've never known
But then I accused you in a way that you've never known
But you hurt me in a way that I've never known...
Break Me Shake Me by Savage Garden.
I'm coming down off a really bad manic episode, and probably should try to sleep now.
I just couldn't get those lyrics off my mind.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Yep.
She digs through the costumes in the chest
Looking for the one she's meant to be
Memorizes her lines -- wants to be the best
Eyes her reflection and says, "This is me."
Looks at the trinkets she holds dear
Reflects back upon all of their history
Blinks and struggles against all the tears
Says to herself, "This will never be."
She cradles them in a sheet of silken white
And locks them away within a tiny coffin
Buries them deep and proceeds now to fight
A nightmare that she had suffered often
In the last few nights, a dream of expiration
An image that things were falling all to hell
She fell to the brinks of purest desperation
But found that nobody cared to make her well.
With downpouring eyes that flood the floor
Seeking the sanctuary of her dark little room
She made a decision to lock the door
And wait to succumb to all of the gloom.
Within the nightstand beside her bed
All the instruments she would ever need
To kill the voices inside of her head--
To send them all away forever, indeed.
After making her choice, she lays in wait
Nestled in the warm comfort of her sheets
Happily accepting this most morbid of fate
And waiting for her heart to stop its beat.
She closes her eyes and whispers her apology
For taking his time and throwing him so off track
And with her last ragged breath remaining, she
Told him, "Here is your life. I'm giving it back."
EDIT: I was reminded of my old poem, Just a Toy, a short while after writing this one. Although they are relatively unrelated, they're both fitting.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Ironic.
I happened across my horoscope for the day... and it said this:
At this particular moment in time, it will be far easier for you to get mad and stay that way than for you to forgive and forget; but that doesn't mean it's the best thing to do. In fact, if you're really still interested in keeping things together between you and the person you've been feuding with, why not lay all your cards out on the table, be totally honest and get the problem solved once and for all?
How ironic.
At this particular moment in time, it will be far easier for you to get mad and stay that way than for you to forgive and forget; but that doesn't mean it's the best thing to do. In fact, if you're really still interested in keeping things together between you and the person you've been feuding with, why not lay all your cards out on the table, be totally honest and get the problem solved once and for all?
How ironic.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Not the Same.
I don't think I'm the same any more.
I don't feel the same way I used to about some things.
Is it that things are different, or is that I'm different?
Things just aren't the same any more.
And I wish I knew why.
I don't feel the same way I used to about some things.
Is it that things are different, or is that I'm different?
Things just aren't the same any more.
And I wish I knew why.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Questions.
Normally I'm cryptic or vague, or normally I write a poem or short story about my feelings when I'm stressed.
But not this time.
Instead, I'm laying it all out on the line... blunt, honest, direct, straight-forward. Even if it's going to hurt.
...In fact, I know it's going to hurt.
But maybe it's time I stopped being so pathetic.
Disclaimer aside...
Ever since Saturday night, my head has not been on straight. On Saturday night, all the emotional problems I tried to hide from my family came into the light. It's been plaguing me ever since... not because I'm angry at my family for caring, but because I'm angry at myself for slipping.
I started confiding in my closer friends about the situation I've gotten myself into. The concept that I might need to seek therapy and the concept that I may be prescribed medications in an attempt to quell my severe instabilities. Every one of the people I have confided my situation to have told me that I would benefit from the help.
Every one except one person: My closest companion.
At first, I wasn't up to the idea of seeking assistance. I was convinced that I was fine and could handle it on my own. But I started reflecting back on the past two weeks. In the past two weeks alone, I had seven different episodes of severe, random depression... three events of minor self-harm... and one attempt at suicide. Eleven episodes in fourteen days. It's a frightening number. This, and the coaching of my closer friends and family, have me considering the benefits of seeking help.
And yet this condition threatens to tear me from my closest companion... from someone I thought was my soulmate. Someone who means more to me than anyone...
I'm losing that, all because I'm contemplating counselling.
Is it really that bad... am I really that fucked up... that if I make this decision and go through with it... I'll be undesirable? I'll be some sort of failure -- a reject of society? Hell... maybe I am a reject, and have been trying to convince myself of complete and utter nonsense these past few years. I'm worth something... what a joke.
I have problems with my emotions. I am easily triggered into dangerously low "rages" of depression that can easily spiral me into panic attacks, manic episodes of extremely horrifying hallucinations, or worse. I tend to fluctuate moods at an unhealthy pace, and can go from hyperly happy to suicidally sad in the drop of a hat... for no reason at all. Sometimes my episodes follow me into sleep and cause me to suffer nasty nightmares or episodes of night terrors that leave me afraid to sleep.
My family walk on eggshells around me in efforts to try and keep me from falling into these episodes. I get treated differently because I behave differently. Can I help it? No. Am I proud to admit it? Not at all. It's embarrassing and frustrating. It makes me feel frightening and fragile all at once.
These past few days have left me walking a very fine line. In theory, I've become a ticking time-bomb. I'm on the brink of another severe episode, and I can feel it.
And yes, I know that counselling may not help. I know they'll undoubtedly put me on some sort of medications to try and remedy my situation. I understand that my previous doctors misdiagnosed me and mistakenly put me on the wrong medications (and also mixed a very dangerous set of substances together accidentally). But what if this time they get it right?
What if this time they can fix me? What if I could finally have some sort of stability in my life? What if I could finally be free of the fear of "when is the next episode going to happen?"
I could be a better daughter, sister, girlfriend, friend... I could feel better. I could...
I could be better.
If a friend of mine told me that s/he was going to undergo something so that they could improve the way they felt about themselves... so that they could improve their health and life... I would be behind them 110%, no questions asked. I wouldn't hesitate. I wouldn't blink. I wouldn't think twice. I'd do my best to be supportive and stand behind them while they went through the process. I'd get to watch them change and grow, and feel better...
I was taught that if you care about somebody, you want them to feel good about themselves. You want them to be happy. You want them to feel their best. I always thought that if you cared about somebody, whatever made them happy made you happy. I was taught to believe that if you care, you give unconditional support no matter what. I always believed that if you cared, you wouldn't turn your back. You wouldn't start treating that person differently. You wouldn't refuse to open your mind to the possibilities.
I guess I don't understand, and maybe I never will.
I guess what makes me the saddest of all is that I'm being an optimist in a situation that has long since proven my optimism to be worthless. I still wait up late at nights. I still keep my phone on at full volume while I sleep so I won't miss any incoming messages. I still keep my laptop open at all hours with my messengers running and my volume at full so that I'm not closing the door. And yet... at the end of every day, I'm the one asking myself, "Why?" while I'm trying to pick myself up off the floor.
I could always close the door... I could always turn off my messengers -- hell, I could always turn off my laptop and actually sleep in the dark for a change. I could always mute my cell phone so that the only sound I hear is my alarm in the morning. But what good would it do? As selfish as it sounds, I'd only be hurting myself. I'd feel guilty about closing the door and I'd feel guilty about causing somebody to hurt and feel depressed. I'm tragically flawed: I will care so much about another person that I will take whatever treatment they give me -- good or bad -- and will loyally be waiting for them at the start of every new day.
And, goddamnit all, people are taking advantage of that.
But the biggest question that burns in my mind is this...
If counselling and medication could make me feel better about myself, and make me happier in my life...
...Why are so you against it?
But not this time.
Instead, I'm laying it all out on the line... blunt, honest, direct, straight-forward. Even if it's going to hurt.
...In fact, I know it's going to hurt.
But maybe it's time I stopped being so pathetic.
Disclaimer aside...
Ever since Saturday night, my head has not been on straight. On Saturday night, all the emotional problems I tried to hide from my family came into the light. It's been plaguing me ever since... not because I'm angry at my family for caring, but because I'm angry at myself for slipping.
I started confiding in my closer friends about the situation I've gotten myself into. The concept that I might need to seek therapy and the concept that I may be prescribed medications in an attempt to quell my severe instabilities. Every one of the people I have confided my situation to have told me that I would benefit from the help.
Every one except one person: My closest companion.
At first, I wasn't up to the idea of seeking assistance. I was convinced that I was fine and could handle it on my own. But I started reflecting back on the past two weeks. In the past two weeks alone, I had seven different episodes of severe, random depression... three events of minor self-harm... and one attempt at suicide. Eleven episodes in fourteen days. It's a frightening number. This, and the coaching of my closer friends and family, have me considering the benefits of seeking help.
And yet this condition threatens to tear me from my closest companion... from someone I thought was my soulmate. Someone who means more to me than anyone...
I'm losing that, all because I'm contemplating counselling.
Is it really that bad... am I really that fucked up... that if I make this decision and go through with it... I'll be undesirable? I'll be some sort of failure -- a reject of society? Hell... maybe I am a reject, and have been trying to convince myself of complete and utter nonsense these past few years. I'm worth something... what a joke.
I have problems with my emotions. I am easily triggered into dangerously low "rages" of depression that can easily spiral me into panic attacks, manic episodes of extremely horrifying hallucinations, or worse. I tend to fluctuate moods at an unhealthy pace, and can go from hyperly happy to suicidally sad in the drop of a hat... for no reason at all. Sometimes my episodes follow me into sleep and cause me to suffer nasty nightmares or episodes of night terrors that leave me afraid to sleep.
My family walk on eggshells around me in efforts to try and keep me from falling into these episodes. I get treated differently because I behave differently. Can I help it? No. Am I proud to admit it? Not at all. It's embarrassing and frustrating. It makes me feel frightening and fragile all at once.
These past few days have left me walking a very fine line. In theory, I've become a ticking time-bomb. I'm on the brink of another severe episode, and I can feel it.
And yes, I know that counselling may not help. I know they'll undoubtedly put me on some sort of medications to try and remedy my situation. I understand that my previous doctors misdiagnosed me and mistakenly put me on the wrong medications (and also mixed a very dangerous set of substances together accidentally). But what if this time they get it right?
What if this time they can fix me? What if I could finally have some sort of stability in my life? What if I could finally be free of the fear of "when is the next episode going to happen?"
I could be a better daughter, sister, girlfriend, friend... I could feel better. I could...
I could be better.
If a friend of mine told me that s/he was going to undergo something so that they could improve the way they felt about themselves... so that they could improve their health and life... I would be behind them 110%, no questions asked. I wouldn't hesitate. I wouldn't blink. I wouldn't think twice. I'd do my best to be supportive and stand behind them while they went through the process. I'd get to watch them change and grow, and feel better...
I was taught that if you care about somebody, you want them to feel good about themselves. You want them to be happy. You want them to feel their best. I always thought that if you cared about somebody, whatever made them happy made you happy. I was taught to believe that if you care, you give unconditional support no matter what. I always believed that if you cared, you wouldn't turn your back. You wouldn't start treating that person differently. You wouldn't refuse to open your mind to the possibilities.
I guess I don't understand, and maybe I never will.
I guess what makes me the saddest of all is that I'm being an optimist in a situation that has long since proven my optimism to be worthless. I still wait up late at nights. I still keep my phone on at full volume while I sleep so I won't miss any incoming messages. I still keep my laptop open at all hours with my messengers running and my volume at full so that I'm not closing the door. And yet... at the end of every day, I'm the one asking myself, "Why?" while I'm trying to pick myself up off the floor.
I could always close the door... I could always turn off my messengers -- hell, I could always turn off my laptop and actually sleep in the dark for a change. I could always mute my cell phone so that the only sound I hear is my alarm in the morning. But what good would it do? As selfish as it sounds, I'd only be hurting myself. I'd feel guilty about closing the door and I'd feel guilty about causing somebody to hurt and feel depressed. I'm tragically flawed: I will care so much about another person that I will take whatever treatment they give me -- good or bad -- and will loyally be waiting for them at the start of every new day.
And, goddamnit all, people are taking advantage of that.
But the biggest question that burns in my mind is this...
If counselling and medication could make me feel better about myself, and make me happier in my life...
...Why are so you against it?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Never Will Be.
It's probably for the best, anyway.
Here. Have a poem. I'm too upset to bother elaborating on anything else.
Never Will Be
Once upon a really distant time
There was a future that existed...
But it was before this mind of mine
Became so sick and twisted.
There's always something in the way;
There's never an end to our sorrow.
Isn't it wrong when every single day
We're praying for a better tomorrow?
Is it that we're both just pretending
Playing this game for the chance to win
A prize that has got us both spending
All our time wondering exactly when
The dream in our mind becomes reality;
The day that all the dreams come true...
But now the dream tortures relentlessly
And has turned us both to blue.
Perhaps we're holding on too tight
I guess we've both gotten so blind
That we think all these nasty fights
Keep us from leaving the other behind.
All of these wars have left me battered
My desire to believe is about to run out.
I feel as if our morale has been shattered--
Will we make it? I admit I have my doubts.
The depth of our feuding has begun to show
And perhaps it's time I finally set you free.
All of our sparring has ultimately let me know
That what almost was... never will be.
Here. Have a poem. I'm too upset to bother elaborating on anything else.
Once upon a really distant time
There was a future that existed...
But it was before this mind of mine
Became so sick and twisted.
There's always something in the way;
There's never an end to our sorrow.
Isn't it wrong when every single day
We're praying for a better tomorrow?
Is it that we're both just pretending
Playing this game for the chance to win
A prize that has got us both spending
All our time wondering exactly when
The dream in our mind becomes reality;
The day that all the dreams come true...
But now the dream tortures relentlessly
And has turned us both to blue.
Perhaps we're holding on too tight
I guess we've both gotten so blind
That we think all these nasty fights
Keep us from leaving the other behind.
All of these wars have left me battered
My desire to believe is about to run out.
I feel as if our morale has been shattered--
Will we make it? I admit I have my doubts.
The depth of our feuding has begun to show
And perhaps it's time I finally set you free.
All of our sparring has ultimately let me know
That what almost was... never will be.
Monday, June 8, 2009
A Short Confessional.
I may be put into counseling.
I'm probably going to be put on new medications.
Stabilizers, and "Round Two" with antidepressants.
Hell, they may even put me on something to quell my ADHD.
It's a lot more complicated than that, but I'm just far too tired and distressed to pour out the details right now. I'll probably elaborate in the morning.
I'm extremely distressed.
And a bit scared.
I'm probably going to be put on new medications.
Stabilizers, and "Round Two" with antidepressants.
Hell, they may even put me on something to quell my ADHD.
It's a lot more complicated than that, but I'm just far too tired and distressed to pour out the details right now. I'll probably elaborate in the morning.
I'm extremely distressed.
And a bit scared.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
If Only.
That's what I keep thinking. "If only."
I'm kind of down and bothered. I'll probably vent it somewhere that nobody will ever see it, because that's what I'm so good at doing.
But damn. If only...
If Only
Where the world is black and white
She sees it in a multi-colored inflection.
Where the logic's simply wrong or right
She finds options that never see inspection.
It's a twisted state of mind she obtains
Being born with a brain somewhat disturbed
Giving her ideas that are stress and strain
So she locks them away in a voice unheard.
This poor child knows normal is not she
It's a label forever marked upon her face
Deep within the eyes that forever will see
Daydreams that simply turn into wasted space:
An unnecessary waste of energy and time
A murder of something that could be more ideal
But nobody will ever know her truest crime--
These thousands of suicides forever concealed.
Late in the night, just before time of sleep--
Or what was meant to be said restful peace--
She mourns and aches with a pain soul-deep
Begs quietly for a remedy; asks for a release.
And was it fair to place this burden upon her?
To make two eyes with such strength of vision
And set such powerful eyes into an avid dreamer...
Whoever was responsible for this awful decision?
She tosses and turns as another image plays
Another wild notion turned into a nightly picture
And in the morning, she wakes up with dismay
While she turns her latest child into empty scripture.
No matter how many stories she dares to create
In the attempts to simply make them go away,
Trapped in this could-be-but-never-will-be state...
Is ultimately where she is always going to stay.
Quietly she longs to find a way out of all of it
Because the life she lives has gotten lonely
She craves escape from the insanity of her wit
Whispering softly, "If I were normal... If only..."
I'm kind of down and bothered. I'll probably vent it somewhere that nobody will ever see it, because that's what I'm so good at doing.
But damn. If only...
Where the world is black and white
She sees it in a multi-colored inflection.
Where the logic's simply wrong or right
She finds options that never see inspection.
It's a twisted state of mind she obtains
Being born with a brain somewhat disturbed
Giving her ideas that are stress and strain
So she locks them away in a voice unheard.
This poor child knows normal is not she
It's a label forever marked upon her face
Deep within the eyes that forever will see
Daydreams that simply turn into wasted space:
An unnecessary waste of energy and time
A murder of something that could be more ideal
But nobody will ever know her truest crime--
These thousands of suicides forever concealed.
Late in the night, just before time of sleep--
Or what was meant to be said restful peace--
She mourns and aches with a pain soul-deep
Begs quietly for a remedy; asks for a release.
And was it fair to place this burden upon her?
To make two eyes with such strength of vision
And set such powerful eyes into an avid dreamer...
Whoever was responsible for this awful decision?
She tosses and turns as another image plays
Another wild notion turned into a nightly picture
And in the morning, she wakes up with dismay
While she turns her latest child into empty scripture.
No matter how many stories she dares to create
In the attempts to simply make them go away,
Trapped in this could-be-but-never-will-be state...
Is ultimately where she is always going to stay.
Quietly she longs to find a way out of all of it
Because the life she lives has gotten lonely
She craves escape from the insanity of her wit
Whispering softly, "If I were normal... If only..."
Monday, June 1, 2009
Steps to Follow.
1. Get a piece of paper.
2. Cut it into the shape of a heart.
3. Write my name on it.
4. Tear the heart into as many pieces as possible.
5. Gather the pieces.
6. Put the heart back together to the best of your ability.
Carry it with you everywhere. Why? What is it?
It's a reminder.
A reminder that will hopefully remind you to be very careful with the next heart you receive.
Or, at least, that's the intention.
2. Cut it into the shape of a heart.
3. Write my name on it.
4. Tear the heart into as many pieces as possible.
5. Gather the pieces.
6. Put the heart back together to the best of your ability.
Carry it with you everywhere. Why? What is it?
It's a reminder.
A reminder that will hopefully remind you to be very careful with the next heart you receive.
Or, at least, that's the intention.
Another Macabre Story.
It's been a while, and unfortunately for anyone who likes cheerful tales... this isn't.
It started off dark and angry, but it didn't end at all how I planned. But I guess everything works that way for me.
Anyway. There it is. Typical warnings of violence and triggering themes.
Angel Reborn
Rusted metal rockets into the air
Entangles a girl in a web of chain
Slams her down from a pedestal fair
Impact causes damage to her brain.
The corners of her eyes warn too late
Of monsters lunging from shadows bleak
They force her down to meet her fate
Crush her throat so she can't speak.
Lifted from the ground on will involuntary
A prized sacrifice for her ravenous captors
They've determined that she is unnecessary
Hanging her up high from a bloodied rafter.
Looking up, the creatures squeal in delight
At the hostage they have received
Mocking her efforts to struggle and fight
Laughing that she dare to believe
In digs the claws from any and all sides
Piercing easily through weakened defenses
Clutching her heart from her own inside
Scraping her brain so she loses her senses.
Each of the claws is another electric blade
Shattering and tearing her writhing core
Withdrawing nails coated with thick red shade
Licking their fingers... wanting more.
Her eyelids have slowly begun to flutter
She shivers with involuntary spasms of her demise
Blood drips down her mouth as she coughs; sputters
With a strangled throat she can utter no cries.
The monsters continue on their ravenous attack
Tearing and dismembering both her legs and arms
She feels the last of her blood fade, eyes roll back
One last gasp of life before she submits to all the harm.
Finished and feeling as if they have done enough
The creatures happily dance away into the night
Left dangling the body of a girl thought to be tough...
How is it in the end she never bothered to fight?
Somewhere in the depths of the night so bleak
The peace of death will blanket the one so torn
And maybe again with time we'll hear her speak...
Perhaps one day this angel will be reborn.
It started off dark and angry, but it didn't end at all how I planned. But I guess everything works that way for me.
Anyway. There it is. Typical warnings of violence and triggering themes.
Rusted metal rockets into the air
Entangles a girl in a web of chain
Slams her down from a pedestal fair
Impact causes damage to her brain.
The corners of her eyes warn too late
Of monsters lunging from shadows bleak
They force her down to meet her fate
Crush her throat so she can't speak.
Lifted from the ground on will involuntary
A prized sacrifice for her ravenous captors
They've determined that she is unnecessary
Hanging her up high from a bloodied rafter.
Looking up, the creatures squeal in delight
At the hostage they have received
Mocking her efforts to struggle and fight
Laughing that she dare to believe
In digs the claws from any and all sides
Piercing easily through weakened defenses
Clutching her heart from her own inside
Scraping her brain so she loses her senses.
Each of the claws is another electric blade
Shattering and tearing her writhing core
Withdrawing nails coated with thick red shade
Licking their fingers... wanting more.
Her eyelids have slowly begun to flutter
She shivers with involuntary spasms of her demise
Blood drips down her mouth as she coughs; sputters
With a strangled throat she can utter no cries.
The monsters continue on their ravenous attack
Tearing and dismembering both her legs and arms
She feels the last of her blood fade, eyes roll back
One last gasp of life before she submits to all the harm.
Finished and feeling as if they have done enough
The creatures happily dance away into the night
Left dangling the body of a girl thought to be tough...
How is it in the end she never bothered to fight?
Somewhere in the depths of the night so bleak
The peace of death will blanket the one so torn
And maybe again with time we'll hear her speak...
Perhaps one day this angel will be reborn.
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