I lost my power in this world, and the rumors are flying
(This is the first entry that was intended to be read after this one, published on the 20th, but it was written on the 19th.)
I wonder if I have an all-black Kemono skin. This feels like an all-black growing mood.
listen to the wind blow
watch the sun rise
Turns out I do. So...here we are.
The sweeping joy, then the jagged, crushing descent...and the stunned question circling through the sharks by the shore.
"That's it?"
I am still so screwed here. Or...not, as the case may be.
Dark desert highway, skin still itching for touch no matter what skin it is, and still feeling very, very small. Waiting for these things to change. Not sure when they will.
Not sure if they will.
run in the shadows
damn your love, damn your lies
On the far end of the rift I have more understanding, more frustration, more pain, more confusion. More more more when ideally, I want less. Ah, but a constant truth of the universe is we don't always get what we want.
and if you don't love me now
you will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
you would never break the chain
And there is a large part of my heart that's still raging. I was promised two weeks. I was given two days. Two days to force adaptation of any kind, at least enough to continue to function.
Is that breaking a promise, or reconsidering the timeline? Does it matter at this point? Did it matter before?
Am I just needlessly brooding?
listen to the wind blow
down comes the night
run in the shadows
damn your love, damn your lies
Because yes, part of that is my brain trying to find a way for that prototypical last time, hated though such things are, just in case it would be, and...then there was no time left. There were no days left. There were going to be no times, last or otherwise, again.
And did that break a promise, or just break me?
After all, doesn't matter how many corners I can think around if the building was demolished. No corners left.
break the silence
damn the dark, damn the light
You know, it's somewhat ironic. The last serious rift I had with someone--well, all right, the last before the actual last, but the last shocked more people than just me--I was instantaneously blamed by the other party. That was a situation where I knew I'd been in the wrong for not speaking up, but everything else could, and still can, absolutely be laid at his door. It took some back and forth recriminations, and far more angry words than probably either of us wished for, to finally convince him of that. I bear part of the blame, I accepted that, accept that; but he bore the brunt of it.
Which, in all honesty, he probably didn't want to hear, but...it was true. Though it's also true that he was hurting, he was confused, he was angry...and no one's at their best in that state. Trust me, I know.
and if you don't love me now
you will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
you would never break the chain
And...now here. I have gone from thinking that it was mostly that other heart's fault, to seeing we were equally at fault, to thinking it was entirely my fault, and each place I've stopped to decide has felt like the "real" truth of the situation. I look back on the past few weeks that feel very much like railing at fate, with a strong coat of unfairness, injustice, and general unkindness, save...I was there when all this went down. No, I didn't come up with the idea, that was someone else, and I was, still am, shocked to my core when the ban was proposed, but--I was aware of it. I didn't like it, I was hurt by it, I was confused, and baffled, and horrified...but--at least as explained to me then--I agreed.
Maybe I was wrong to agree. But I honestly do not believe, wrong or right, that there was ever a chance to say, hey, sleep on this a bit, okay, decide tomorrow, decide the next day, because...that is not my place here. I did ask why several times, but I knew the answer wouldn't change.
you would never break the chain
(never break the chain)
So my choices now seem to be...apart from very, very limited...very conflicting. Can't have the man, can't stand to walk away, and the indecision is killing me. This is perfect crazy-making territory, I know it, I do realize, but it seems like that's the only choice left too. So I guess I just accept I'll be crazy for a while?
How do I accept that?
Did this break me, or was I already broken and only thought I healed?
(chain, keep us together)
run in the shadow
And it's not the sex. That's not the issue. There are those in my life who thought it was--there's one who is still loudly proclaiming I'm a sex addict--but in any iteration of reality, sex is not that difficult to find.
That sense of connection, though, for lack of a better term. That's the difficult bit. I can sleep with people I just like, it's fun--and occasionally pays rent--but that...click...that's more rare.
(chain, keep us together)
run in the shadow
It took me a while to turn down enough static around everything to hear it, but that is what I miss. And I say that even knowing that's still there, because--it's not the same. It's still that half-recognition, half-novelty of feeling personalities mesh, only now, one side's strained, and limping, and flinching every time that click kicks in.
And it's not him. No, no, it's still clearly me.
(chain, keep us together)
run in the shadow...
And I'm back to feeling like I'm standing in the center of all commotion, screaming until my vocal cords strip, bleeding because I can't figure out how to stop it, and as goddamned usual everyone around me thinks I'm asking if they prefer Earl Grey or Darjeeling.
I hate it and I can't stop it and I have been here too many times and why again? Why again?
I know why, and I don't know why, quixotically. But neither the knowledge nor the confusion resolves anything. All I know is, I can't do what I want in either direction, and I don't know where to go from here.
I just...don't.
And the one new piece of information that was gently impressed upon me is that I am not alone in this. Which is both balm and bane, frankly. I don't want to be alone, and I have felt very alone most of the time, these past few weeks, and I desperately do not want to feel that alone, but...I don't want anyone else I care for to feel this, either.
The lifeline is made of braided silk and nettles, and I can't figure out if I should hold on tighter or let go and run away. Either action will hurt.
*sighs*
These things I know. These things are inviolate. If nothing else can be relied upon, I can rely on these, for whatever value they hold.
So. I've said this before, but now I need to rebuild. Not completely, in this case; lightning didn't strike the entire structure. It's just a matter of repairing the burn scores, patching the few places that cracked and fell, find a workable emulsion to seal the rest until it can stand on its own again. It's bad, it is bad, from any direction it's damaging; but it's not fatal. I do not die from this. Nothing is that extreme.
I just wish I knew with surety that both sides of this--that aren't me--understand as well, and...I'm only sure of one. And it's not the one that owns the collar.
(Insert from the Editrix: And as long as we're here:)
(Pictures taken at Obsidian Apocalypse, Deathlands, MOTHERLAND, ATMOS Foundry and Virtual Decay. Lyrics from Fleetwood Mac's The Chain.)
I wonder if I have an all-black Kemono skin. This feels like an all-black growing mood.
listen to the wind blow
watch the sun rise
Turns out I do. So...here we are.
The sweeping joy, then the jagged, crushing descent...and the stunned question circling through the sharks by the shore.
"That's it?"
I am still so screwed here. Or...not, as the case may be.
Dark desert highway, skin still itching for touch no matter what skin it is, and still feeling very, very small. Waiting for these things to change. Not sure when they will.
Not sure if they will.
run in the shadows
damn your love, damn your lies
On the far end of the rift I have more understanding, more frustration, more pain, more confusion. More more more when ideally, I want less. Ah, but a constant truth of the universe is we don't always get what we want.
and if you don't love me now
you will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
you would never break the chain
And there is a large part of my heart that's still raging. I was promised two weeks. I was given two days. Two days to force adaptation of any kind, at least enough to continue to function.
Is that breaking a promise, or reconsidering the timeline? Does it matter at this point? Did it matter before?
Am I just needlessly brooding?
listen to the wind blow
down comes the night
run in the shadows
damn your love, damn your lies
Because yes, part of that is my brain trying to find a way for that prototypical last time, hated though such things are, just in case it would be, and...then there was no time left. There were no days left. There were going to be no times, last or otherwise, again.
And did that break a promise, or just break me?
After all, doesn't matter how many corners I can think around if the building was demolished. No corners left.
break the silence
damn the dark, damn the light
You know, it's somewhat ironic. The last serious rift I had with someone--well, all right, the last before the actual last, but the last shocked more people than just me--I was instantaneously blamed by the other party. That was a situation where I knew I'd been in the wrong for not speaking up, but everything else could, and still can, absolutely be laid at his door. It took some back and forth recriminations, and far more angry words than probably either of us wished for, to finally convince him of that. I bear part of the blame, I accepted that, accept that; but he bore the brunt of it.
Which, in all honesty, he probably didn't want to hear, but...it was true. Though it's also true that he was hurting, he was confused, he was angry...and no one's at their best in that state. Trust me, I know.
and if you don't love me now
you will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
you would never break the chain
And...now here. I have gone from thinking that it was mostly that other heart's fault, to seeing we were equally at fault, to thinking it was entirely my fault, and each place I've stopped to decide has felt like the "real" truth of the situation. I look back on the past few weeks that feel very much like railing at fate, with a strong coat of unfairness, injustice, and general unkindness, save...I was there when all this went down. No, I didn't come up with the idea, that was someone else, and I was, still am, shocked to my core when the ban was proposed, but--I was aware of it. I didn't like it, I was hurt by it, I was confused, and baffled, and horrified...but--at least as explained to me then--I agreed.
Maybe I was wrong to agree. But I honestly do not believe, wrong or right, that there was ever a chance to say, hey, sleep on this a bit, okay, decide tomorrow, decide the next day, because...that is not my place here. I did ask why several times, but I knew the answer wouldn't change.
you would never break the chain
(never break the chain)
So my choices now seem to be...apart from very, very limited...very conflicting. Can't have the man, can't stand to walk away, and the indecision is killing me. This is perfect crazy-making territory, I know it, I do realize, but it seems like that's the only choice left too. So I guess I just accept I'll be crazy for a while?
How do I accept that?
Did this break me, or was I already broken and only thought I healed?
(chain, keep us together)
run in the shadow
And it's not the sex. That's not the issue. There are those in my life who thought it was--there's one who is still loudly proclaiming I'm a sex addict--but in any iteration of reality, sex is not that difficult to find.
That sense of connection, though, for lack of a better term. That's the difficult bit. I can sleep with people I just like, it's fun--and occasionally pays rent--but that...click...that's more rare.
(chain, keep us together)
run in the shadow
It took me a while to turn down enough static around everything to hear it, but that is what I miss. And I say that even knowing that's still there, because--it's not the same. It's still that half-recognition, half-novelty of feeling personalities mesh, only now, one side's strained, and limping, and flinching every time that click kicks in.
And it's not him. No, no, it's still clearly me.
(chain, keep us together)
run in the shadow...
And I'm back to feeling like I'm standing in the center of all commotion, screaming until my vocal cords strip, bleeding because I can't figure out how to stop it, and as goddamned usual everyone around me thinks I'm asking if they prefer Earl Grey or Darjeeling.
I hate it and I can't stop it and I have been here too many times and why again? Why again?
I know why, and I don't know why, quixotically. But neither the knowledge nor the confusion resolves anything. All I know is, I can't do what I want in either direction, and I don't know where to go from here.
I just...don't.
And the one new piece of information that was gently impressed upon me is that I am not alone in this. Which is both balm and bane, frankly. I don't want to be alone, and I have felt very alone most of the time, these past few weeks, and I desperately do not want to feel that alone, but...I don't want anyone else I care for to feel this, either.
The lifeline is made of braided silk and nettles, and I can't figure out if I should hold on tighter or let go and run away. Either action will hurt.
*sighs*
These things I know. These things are inviolate. If nothing else can be relied upon, I can rely on these, for whatever value they hold.
- I am still on my dominant's collar. There has been zero indication that that is ending.
- I am still trusted. Gods alone know why, but when absolutely everything goes dark, that has been the sole, distant flicker of light. I am still trusted.
- I refuse to give myself new scars over this. I am done with that.
- I have love in my life, from more than one direction, and if I stop spinning long enough, I will see it.
- I haven't done anything else irretrievably stupid beyond what caused the ban in the first place.
So. I've said this before, but now I need to rebuild. Not completely, in this case; lightning didn't strike the entire structure. It's just a matter of repairing the burn scores, patching the few places that cracked and fell, find a workable emulsion to seal the rest until it can stand on its own again. It's bad, it is bad, from any direction it's damaging; but it's not fatal. I do not die from this. Nothing is that extreme.
I just wish I knew with surety that both sides of this--that aren't me--understand as well, and...I'm only sure of one. And it's not the one that owns the collar.
(Insert from the Editrix: And as long as we're here:)
(Pictures taken at Obsidian Apocalypse, Deathlands, MOTHERLAND, ATMOS Foundry and Virtual Decay. Lyrics from Fleetwood Mac's The Chain.)
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