Out of woman comes a man
spends the rest of his life getting back when he can...

I have sought for You, yearned for You, allowed all my actions to be guided by Your will.... and in the end You have always disappointed.

Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.

Sometimes who you are just hits you full-force.

There are systems out there that I know have had issues with "what if we're all
make-believe". I think we've been through that, too.
And there's people who go, "What if I'm not really who I am?"

Me? I have never once had that issue. I know exactly who I am, and have never had any reason to doubt myself.
But sometimes it's just so obvious. And you remember why you do exactly what you do, and you know that even though you can't be whatever it was you were - not to the letter - that you can still make a difference, if you try hard enough.

The advantage to the fact that I'm not human anymore is that I never have to miss being human. All I have to do is think really hard about what I want, and work for it. Just like I always have, and like I always will.

Who: chet_thanh_pho!Walter, cof_interzone!Walter... will you add here? if so, Fakir (harddays_knight) and Princess Rue (ruesravenblood) as well...
Why: Since this post is relative to both Chet and forestcradle I figured I'd just put it up here...
What: Freed from Sae by Ai, aware of the BZ fogging at the encampment, Walter hears the music meant for his future self, the dance Rue and Fakir are doing for him.

( nightmarish waltz. )

location: 0therworld mood: festive music: Santiago's Waltz-'Interview with the Vampire' soundtrack

There are so many cardiac and vascular diseases, and he only covered the most common. I did a lot more 'try(ing) to understand the whole picture' instead of just memorizing, since the doc is always emphasizing the importance of understanding, versus memorizing for the sake of memorizing.

Sometimes I miss basic things though, you know. Like...building. The work over at the bowling alley? I think I did pretty well with what little I had. I enjoy the hard work. What I miss is... is ... is very hard to define. At the end of each shift I took a little piece of perfection would exist because of my hands, my mind, my skill. But don't get me wrong here. I know how boastful that sounds. I am honored to be allowed to create. This is not something I chose. No .....I was.... I know it sounds somehow weird and wrong, but it chose me. It humbled me.

I guess I helped those people who were staying there a bit too, and that was nice in its way.

The romantically inclined- I too always perceived them as weak. I guess I think now that I was wrong, for even if not the strongest, who is the bravest warrior- the one that goes forth triply re-enforced in armor they have surmized to be impervious, or the one who rides out with his heart shining on his sleeve, the one who rides out actually having something to protect?

I hear it, I know it too, even to an extent- how nauseating. I have never had a taste for heroes, except as easy victims- those who will die first for a cause. Take me, not my love they cry and I, being the dubious villain fate has made me to be, would usually try to take both.

But in the end who isn't a victim? Even the hardest heart can grow weary of its lonely, imprisoning crust. Even the strongest arms grow weaker when time and too many battles have had their way.

And who then dies cleaner, dies easier, heads to a brighter paradise?

Yes. I get it. This is sickening. But I've grown old, and I've grown sick of being my mother's assassin. I have lost the taste for the wetwork she had given me as my portion.

This town is filled with people who are empty shells, and that's the point, isn't it? You're here for the Judgement. Here to be judged. You almost welcome the moment She will suck out what's left of you like oysters lined up before the Walrus and the Carpenter.

Maybe you're just longing to be known and appreciated in those last moments. To hear Her smack Her noble lips in satisfaction, die knowing that for that brief time you gave Her something She could love.

Empty shells driven... maybe you have that one, last good thing you do oh so well- solve the puzzle. Heal the dying. Rock the rollers. And so you're waiting for the big gig, the farewell performance.

Why? Because in your heart of hearts you know what made you unique also never made you whole, satisfied.

I have a chance now. Someone I want to be with. Someone who might- just might- get me through the darkness.

Someone worth dying for.

Deal with it.

wondering why i am the way i am; broken.

once obtrusive scars now seem delicate.

if you want something badly enough, you will make it happen. make the sacrifices...if i choose to 'love' will my heart not break?

and if i choose not to...

my heart will break as well. i don't...understand... how can i wish for this?? so many wounds...still opened...

heal. just. heal.

many more to come i am sure. there are always sirens here. the stories are rarely quiet. when they are, the silence moves her...

Mother. is She what i want now? i don't. i don't.

dying at this time isn't wise. it isn't safe here anymore. i want to get her- her out.

but i never wanted out before... this place is my home.

fra·gil·i·ty -The quality or state of being easily broken or destroyed.

interesting quality in others...not so much when it pertains to me though.

mood: confused

Well. That one didn't last very long. I think I may have set a new record on dying so soon after coming back.

As soon as I've worked the rigor mortis out, I shall return.
-----------
Private to Otis
I am between the worlds. Do you wish me to try to remove the children? I'm sure it would pose no difficulty for me.
/private
------------

It used to trouble me. It doesn't so much now. I think I've become used to it. I do have to wonder if there is a capper on how many times. I guess I'm not curious enough to mock the gods and see where my cut off point is.

I guess you could say I enjoy 'life' too much.


So. Anyone miss me?

location: Nowhere mood: amused

Well, Microbiology wasn't all bad last night... the lab on aspetic techniques, bacterial slide smears & methane blue stain procedures was actually a lot of fun.

I don't think the doctor is mad at me. It's hard to tell though, really.

Noodled around on the network for a few last night after I reviewed my notes.

and the rest of you? How's your research coming along? >:D

She is coming. Say your prayers.

And people ask me, as I sometimes ask myself: does death have a smell?
Do children?

If they do they’d smell like flower pressings, because that’s all I remember about being innocent.

Why don't I post much? Because I just don't. I don't have much to say except that I spit poison and am as crazy as the rest of them.

I say set your standards low so you'll surprise yourself every time.

And what nerve have I to speak to the sky and treat scientific vagaries as augury? I don't mean to be like that, but then none of us ever do. We're all housed in bodies with an evolutionary relic of great and primitive understanding and power; it isn't evil, it just isn't civilized, or even completely human.

Anyway I just thought I should mention that unless you have huge balls and are willing to wrestle angels and get your liver eaten by eagles a lot the magic game may not be for you. It comes with opponents automatically, not just secular but the very flaming-sword-wielding guardians of Eden besides. The weavers of the patterns and the guardians of the balance want unbalanced people to stay in their place.

Myself? If there was a rulebook I would have torn it up and eaten the pages and spit them back in the faces of all so-called authorities out of pure spite.

I'm the loser who keeps winning. Nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home.

Oh yes. But that'll all change soon enough...

I expect I cried. All the rage of being left and cast aside at such a crucial moment...I cannot begin to remember how it must have felt. Such anger in such a small body.

But Mother nurtured me, even if my true parents would not. She fed me the hunger that for so long motivated me... the hunger to avenge myself upon a world that never wanted me. Come my children, come closer. I want to see the whites of all your eyes.

And pluck them out.

Or so it was, once. That hunger drove me, led me, was my guiding light, my connection to God.

Now? I've come to the undeniable conclusion that I've become dependant on others for daily sustanance. I can no longer be content with being by myself all day like I used to.

Dear God, Mother, can it be that I've waited too long? That I like these people too much to kill them now? Or can it be that this is the farthest I have ever been from God?

My current state of reality is warped. The people come and go and I just stand here. I take it all in, and I let it all go. I try to understand what's going on but I'm confused.

I think I really need to kill something before I go out of my mind.

mood: unsatisfied, restless

*looks at the current world's population* You must have a lot of frustration then.

What pisses you off? - Created by ptocheia

---( - )

So at times I feel sorry for all of the wrong I’ve done. But there is a part of me that wants to keep wronging. Because in all of this madness and weird stretchings and snappings of the rubber bands of my mind, I think I may have lost any adequate notion of a socially acceptable idea of what “wrong” or “right” is.

Still. Wrong is so...tasty. When it happens I am god-like, above all others. It's empowering and it tantalizes...others cowering at the cruelty of my whim.After all,the most feared are they who don't fear the death of every moment. We are feared because of our strength. It's nigh time to assume responsibility to ourselves and each other for who we are. To do that we must let go of the lie which is the empyrean, which also is death.

Let they who worship and fear us tremble.

I guess... I guess I'm not sorry for the wrong I've done, actually. I think what I'm sorry for is that at times I am weak enough to still feel worrisome little maggoty feelings like regret, when all that is powerful within me knows those rules do not apply.

which norse creature are you? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Skoll Skoll - The wolf that will eat the sun at Ragnarok. Skoll 100% Garm 50% Nidhogg 50% Sleipnir 33% Fenrir 33% Ratatosk 17% Heidrun 17% Hati 0%

---

I never cease to be amazed how the heart can withstand to be pulled out through the chest one moment and then in the next instant be reinserted into its enclosure, snugly nestled therein, with no apparent disturbance to the outside world. Well, so long as you've secured said heart's owner with a liberal amount of tape over their faces, anyway.

I still remember as a child how I would sit near the door and gaze outside. My eyes were constantly searching for someone, and that someone was my mother.
i guess waiting patiently is something that I've learned and practiced to perfection. Not just for people, I've waited for circumstances and situations to turn to my favor.

I have people around me now. I'm not sure what to make of that.
They come and go, as people do. Since I'm torn between wanting to observe them and wanting to kill them horribly, I find myself waiting again and again for them to return from their little errands.The funny and rather amusing aspect is that even when they are around me, I'm still waiting somehow...

I guess that's because I'm so used to waiting for a long period that when the wait is actually over I dont even realize it.