Fear and Hope, two sides of a coin

 Im afraid

Afraid of having feelings I shouldn't have

I cant control them, but I can control the way I go on about them

And on the other hand there is hope

Bright like a candle in the dark, showing me the possibility of a future I had not been able to envision for the past 3 years

The anniversary is coming up and, for the first time in years, I feel like there is hope for me

I might be able to feel what I felt back then, to experience what I did back then

But not with her

I cant do it

I dont fear for my own sake, but for hers

And I dont know what her take is

But I cant act

And in this teenage like turmoil of emotions I am stuck

Wishing on one hand

Knowing the stakes in the other

realizing that there is no chance, that always in the back of my mind

And still... I smile genuinely again

I make silly jokes, she laughs

I... I feel again

I am anxious again

I wonder again

I fantasize again, despite those fantasies being reduced to ash as soon as reality kicks in and I hold my reins and settle down

But... I feel

Never would have I ever thought that I could go back to that state

And yet... here I am

Feeling what I shouldnt, hoping for what I shouldnt, wishing for what is forbidden

No matter what happens and how this ends (which will likely be in an aching heart but a clear conscience), I now know that I can feel again, that I am not broken, that there still is hope for me

I have not died emotionally, and that keeps me sane, keeps me hopeful, and yet so afraid

Hell

 Hell

An abstract concept for most

A Promise of pain for some

The daily life for many

I take the subway

get off my station

walk 100 meters to my building

climb up the stairs

open the door

get up the stairs, second floor

open the door

And hell awaits me

The final hallway to my apartment

Many times I have walked it

one way or the other

when I leave its no issue

when I stand at the entrance to get to what I call home

its Hell

Many a times have I stood there, wondering what time it is

not in the literal sense

I wear a watch and have my cell with me at all times

but what time in my life is it?

Is it back then when I was coming back from a weekend with her and this hallway meant the return to the daily life

Is it back from another day of work?

A day of studying?

A day of breaking up?

Am I alone, am I in company?

Do I like the company thats with me or does it just soothe my loneliness for the time being?

I wonder most of the times

and I never find the answer

I fear that, deep down, I wish I could turn back time to when I was genuinely happy

Before I had torn everything down

Before I had left

Before I took that ride back from her place and found myself alone and lonely in that corridor

Hell is having to face your failures every day while knowing there is nothing you can do about it

That train left almost 3 years ago and its not stopping at your station again, its headed straight, and you are waiting at the stop, hoping, with all your might, that it might somehow return and take you with it.

But it most likely wont

And you have to walk that corridor

every

single

damn

day

and be reminded of how you fucked up so badly that its still haunting you years after it happened, relationships after it happened, jobs after it happened, friendships after it happened...

Will moving absolve me from Hell?

Moving on, or moving to a new place

Movement is required, and yet I am stuck in this facet of my life

I can not really look forward, I have been blinded by my own ineptitude, my own selfishness, my own ego... my emotional side, too wild and untamed

I hate this corridor and yet, as a martyr in chains I walk it 

every 

single

damn

day

And am reminded that I am not what I could have been

Turning Point

 Did it all go wrong?

I do have the feeling, but I am not sure, its one of those things one cant ascertain, its more of a feeling, and an uncertain one at that

Did I make a grave mistake, perhaps even the worst mistake of my life?

Have I thusly forfeited any chance at happiness?

I can not tell for certain, but I have experienced things and seen things I wish upon nobody

The despair

The lonely nights

The depression

The tears shed in public transportation, the looks of empathy, the sharing of tissues, the start of nocive behaviors

The rash decisions that end up in even deeper cuts and greater hurt

Going out with your new special someone and, when they are not in field of sign at the mall you are visiting, daydreaming/fantasizing/hallucinating that she comes around the corner, that everything that happened was a terrible, terrible nightmare that you had

But, as much a nightmare as it is, I do not wake up

She doesnt appear from the corner of the store in the mall

The new special someone does, and my heart collapses

That relationship doesnt last

Will this one?

No it wont, its already over, you know it, but they dont, and how to tell them?

They are so invested, so happy, it does them well to have you around them, but is it helping you, is it doing you any good?

Do you have the courage to tell them that it does not really work for you anymore?

You will eventually have to tell them...

But then what will happen to you?

Again alone?

Again miserable?

Indulging, sometimes, in the same nocive behavior? Making rash decisions?

Drowning the loneliness in stupid hookups with strangers to not feel empty for those few hours, just to feel worse later on?

Or might you rise this time?

Its been 3 years already

And yet you cant really say that you are completely over her

You daydream of talking to her, asking for a second chance

But you blew it, and you know it

YOU were the one that made the decision for you both, and its your burden to carry

Do I deserve happiness?

Do I deserve to fulfill the plan that is slowly coming together?

Or am I condemned to be a martyr for someone else, to be good for others while being miserable inside?

I wonder

Do I have the right, after having made such a grave mistake, to find someone that might fit me as well as she did? Do I even have a chance, statistically speaking?

Or are those years gone and I am condemned to live with my immaturity, my cowardice, my lack of self reflection?

But I am getting better, am I not?

Will that be enough?

Is it enough right now, or do I have to keep working on myself to have a shot at that which I desire?

Is me writing this down going to make a difference?

Is there another turning point in the horizon, as I approach my 30th birthday?

The decision / Curtain call

Since the first moment I lay eyes on you, something stirred up inside me
I could not really explain what it was
your shy smile?
your radiant eyes?
your small frame?
The way you know what you want, or at least for that brief moment you did know...

It enthralled me...
It made me lose control

I had never experienced such a thing

I came out of a long relationship, and I was in need of something you could not provide

Why?

You were taken... In a weird way, but you were

But there is this burning sensation and magnetic attraction that I do not know how to deal with
You can not extinguish this passion I have the same way you burn out a cigarette when you throw it in a small puddle of water: it sizzles for a few seconds and then its light is extinguished...

I can not do that...

We shared a walk, we shared messages... It drew me in.

I am aware I started it and I was, once again, very aware what I was getting myself into....

Such a weird thing to say, would you not agree? "I would tap that..."
I did it for two reasons, as I told you: test the waters and try to get a reaction out of him

There was no reaction from his side, but you did react to it apparently

Did I raise the bar too high for my own good?

Maybe, maybe... That time it was my raw emotion and the alcohol and cigarettes talking more than my rational side

I casually talked to you that Wednesday, wanted to walk with you, get to know you a little better
You took, once again, the initiative and asked if you could swing over, I agreed, I just wanted something, I did not know what, I still do not, but I wanted it

You worked, I organized the mess that was my room, but we both still had scrambled minds... we should have made sure that our minds were tidy before we did what we did, but passion is not rational.

The moment passed, we showered together, shared laughs as we rinsed our bodies from what had happened. It was not bad, but it was not that great either, we both secretly knew it.

You spent the night, unexpectedly, even had a toothbrush with you, you swore it was not planed, just like all the evening we had spent together, but it was convenient, just like the evening, I guess.

We looked forward to the day proper, the day in which we had agreed to meet....

I prepared dinner, got some decent wine to lighten the night and our minds. We shared stories as we ate the meager dinner I had whipped up. I did not notice anything weird by the time, but I guess in hindsight some questions were weird.

I still remember how you looked at me as you rode me... that funny half smile half frown that you make... its funny and weird, but its... fitting, attractive.

The second night felt like two black holes colliding, each eager to devour the other, to make it part of itself.

You had left your bike out... that was a sign. Did I know what it meant?

Probably

Did I want to interpret it as such in the heat of the moment?

Definitely not

I can still smell the scent of sex and your taste in my lips from that night... It felt good.

I was not able to finish either night, maybe that bothered you, but since you had already made up your mind you did not consider it important to raise up...

You had told me you would not spend the night this time: last night you and me had barely gotten any sleep and we had to go to work on the next morning. It was the rational thing to do...

Should I have stopped you?

Maybe

You left, the bitter taste of an unanswered question lingered in my mouth:

Will I see you anytime soon?

You just half-assedly smiled and rode your bike home.

It was not a ten speed, would have made for a funny story since that is the title of a song of my favorite band.

As I saw you ride away into the night, tears started swelling up in my face...

"Keep it together... keep it together till you are home and nobody can see or hear you weep" I told myself as i struggled to open the door, climb up the stairs and open the door to my flat.

Once I was in the safety of my home, I broke down.

A stream of insecurity and loneliness covered my cheeks

Bitter tears of unfulfillment were slowly covering my bathroom floor... I went to the door once more, vented my anger with one punch that barely scrapped my knuckle.... I was not even to properly express my frustration...

I crawled into bed.

No youtube till passing out tonight, just the blissful silence of the cold winter night entering my room through the small crack of hope that was my window. The sound of the quiet night soother me to sleep and I, at sometime, fell asleep thinking that I just wanted the pain to go away.

Automaton for Friday, that is what was in store. I be damned if anyone at work is going to see me weep. I had to run away some times to catch air, to not drown in my own emotions, frustration, despair, loneliness.

At the time I did not understand my feelings and emotions, it was a short lived thing, I knew it had no certain future, if any future at all...

But I later realized, 24 hours after I had talked to you, what was happening to me.

It came to me while I smoked a cigarette that Saturday night on my balcony after a long gaming session that should have eased my mind.

I want her

I want her

I want her damnit...

What was it again? 3,75% if I recall correctly

Those were the chances you and him had established for a person of finding their ideal partner.

Then why could I not be granted the chance to try my luck at it?

Winning the lottery was less likely, was it not? And you had said it yourself, well, he did... I deduced later that you were not as much into the whole open relationship thing as he was.

You were looking for freedom to engage in sexual activities, but were still afraid to fall for someone else... That much was clear to me after giving the whole situation some thought. You were probably feeling a similar attraction that I was, but you had a commitment and I was still mending myself after these past  years.

I talked to S, he invited me over to talk, we shared parts of our past, shared some tears together just like that Saturday night that I met you and S and I stayed up late talking about what a relationship entails.

We had things in common... more things than I had ever had with M...

Am I a fool?

For sure... But that is not negative in my eyes, it drives me forward.

Suddenly you also arrived, I waved you hello as if nothing had happened, as if everything was fine.

Once S left, I waited for you.

I still do...

You came up the stairs, I asked if we could talk, you invited me to your room, I stayed next to the door, probably because I knew that I would be making use of it in the near future...

We talked, we opened up, I asked you to not bullshit me with an explanation that bordered you selling me the idea that you were doing me a favor by not pursuing this any further.

"If you think we did not click for you, just say it!" I demanded "Please do not assume what my thoughts and emotions are or try to dictate what they will be, please do not do that"

You looked down and realized that I was right.

"Ok... I did not enjoy Thursday as much as I thought I would"

Did hearing that hurt?

Like a bitch

Was it better than not knowing what the next steps were?

Definitely

Even as I write this I do not know what goes on in your head... your smile frown that forms under your small nose and those glimmering eyes conveys nothing to me, I have to ask what is going on in your mind, if everything is alright. But you did not trust me to be strong enough to take the blow that Thursday night, little did you know at the time that not knowing had hurt e even more, but how could you?

You were thinking and feeling for both of us.

Destiny forbid I am right... but you are going to end up hurt with the way the things are... you and him are not on the same wavelenght... you have hitched that ride because it seemed convenient at the time taking into account your past experiences, but I doubt you follow the same easy going attitude towards the relationship he has... I hope I am wrong, I truly do.

But why am I addressing this to you?

What are the chances you will ever read this?

Close to 0, but there is, just like in my heart, the glimmer of hope that tells me that maybe you will read it, maybe I have a chance.

Am I a fool?

For sure.

I left that night, feeling that you would cry after I did, I know I was going to break down as soon as I crossed the threshold. And I did.

I unlocked the bike, lit a cigarette and rode home, regret falling emanating from my eyes as I slowly made my way into the night.

In a movie you could have asked me to stay.

In a movie I would have asked you to stay.

This is not a movie, this is the theater of life and the curtain had fallen on that night, closing the act.

I thought I was not going to hear from you even as I longingly stared at your profile picture.

You did write, asked what my plans were, I did the same. I again considered it to be the last message.

It was not...

You keep writing to me, responding, being somewhat playful...

How am I to deal with it?

Am I to consume my soul in the pyre of passion?

Am I to fade in the sandstorm of sorrow that lashes at my heart?

Am I a fool?

Without a doubt.

What the future entails... nobody knows... we write our own scripts and I, for one, have decided how the next act is going to look.

Have you done the same?

Are you feeling something remotely similar?

Can I trust what you say, if I know you do not deem me strong enough to deal with reality?

Somehow... it is not important.

Having you present in my life means a lot to me, gives me purpose, gives me direction.

You will most likely never read this, or maybe you will...

Will I write you a letter just like we playfully said we would today? Will I dare?

"I will toss a coin and decide based on that."

Only a fool would do that.

I do not let fate decide for me, I take life by the horns and push with the force of an immovable object in the opposite direction.

You may be unavoidable, fate/destiny, but I will not give up without a fight.

S said: "You have two options: you either talk to her and risk rejection or you let it be and accept it"

NO

Nobody but me decides my fate

I grab it with both hands, I pull it towards me and make it my bitch.

Tomorrow is a brand new day, and with every new sunrise, there is a new chance of improving, of learning, of growing, of overcoming... of living.

For that is live: getting rejected and not accepting it, fighting against it with all you have. Not in a brutish kind of way, but in the smart way.

Tomorrow is Sunday, and with the herald of light I will take my chances.

I kiss you goodnight on the forehead just like on Wednesday and hope that I will be able to do that at some point in the future.

My chances are slim, but better than none, and I cling to that for dear life.

You swept me off my feet, and now it is my turn to do the same.

Get ready for the new act, hear the orchestra playing the first notes of the vals of life, in which we all spin around between the madness and sanity, not wanting to stop for fear of death but afraid to spin out of control.

The curtain opens

The lights shine on my face

"Here I come" I whisper as I take a step forward

A stranger I used to know

Its funny...
The day I saw you on the street, that day I think I remember having had a dream about you.
I dont recall what it was about or why you were in it, but I guess it was somewhat of a warning.

You had not changed at all, still all the same, nothing would change you.

I on the other hand was completely different, I had changed, for better or worse. Maybe that why you did not recognize me, you were, I guess, expecting me to be the exact same as back then, but I had moved on, I had done things, I had shaped my life in the way I wanted it to.

We crossed as any other two strangers cross on the street of a crowded city, but I knew that we were not just any other couple of strangers that pass each other on the daily.

We had known each other, shared memories, good ones, bad ones, but they were ours. They had no meaning now, though.

You passed me, did not even spare a second glance. And I made no effort to correct your mistake, what good would that have brought? It was over for a reason, and nothing would change that.

Before I realized it you were behind me, just like we were, in my past, and I would not dare to look back to get something positive out of it. It was my past and I vowed to leave you and everything else there.

Part of me would have wanted to grab a drink, ask about how you were doing, the better part of me kept me from it.

The duality of what we had been, what we could have been, and what we were still haunts me to this day, to this moment

Heartache

This was how it was supposed to be.
My fate, if you will. Though I did quicken it.

They is gone into the world now, a world which does not understand them but also does not recognize them.

It had been too long since a human had set foot in the kingdom, and when they did, they were quickly taken care of.

I could not stop him... I knew what he was doing to them was wrong and I did express my disgust, but he had already taken the decision and there was nothing I could do to prevent the gruesome actions he would make and the innocent lives he would take...

Already six of them...

It was always the same story, even though I tried changing my approach, warning them in different ways, trying to make them stay and thus avoid their fate...

They wanted to leave and I could not protect them once they left these walls

I swore I would not in my lifetime ever set foot in the kingdom were I not on my way to leave. The thought of meeting him again... I could and can not bear. Too much has happened, my love is almost extinguished, I have given too much of my flame.

Now I am starting to feel the cold. Both from having shared the last bit of the flame I had and from the wound in my stomach.

They have left with a clear purpose, with only one thing in their minds. Why were they so different from the rest? What was driving them to behave the way they did...?

I have an epiphany

It is you... it is both of you...

You are playing your game all over again, but this time insanity has stepped to the playfield and lay down its own cards and rules.

One of you will have to concede defeat... And the mere thought of any of you losing this macabre game pains me to no end.

At least it will be over now, no more games, no more heartache.

Recollection of rememberances

It was hard being alone in the room...
Writting helped, the ghost helped, the daemon helped in his own twisted way, but it was lonely and sometimes depressing.
And yet i look back fondly at the memories i made back then, at the writtings i produced back then, the time spent in solitude, the confort of being shielded off the outside world.
There was a strange feeling of delight knowing that no matter what, i would be safe here.
Out there... i did not know what was out there and frankly i had no intention of finding out at first, everything i needed i had in the room.
My spirit of adventure got the best of me though and i left, but what i found was not what i expected.
But what exactly did i expect anyway?
Before being locked away the world was doing not so well, so why would that have changed in my absence?
A bitter place this world is, not by itself of course, but by the people that inhabit it.
People fighting over matters so trivial in my young eyes... and still trivial in my old eyes.
They say that war never changes, but they are wrong...
The one that never changes is manking, thus making everything stagnant.
War doesnt change because humankind does not change...
Where do i stand amidst this madness?
Do i want to change how the world works or die trying?
Or do i want to live my life with no regard of the world, doing what i want to do till my time is taken from me?

Enjoying the small things

As time went on and i got older, i learned that the best way to enjoy life was to learn to enjoy the small things, the things that happen in your everyday life and that are easily done or obtained.
That way you will get a little boost every day that will make your day brighter.
For me it was writting.
No matter if in the darkness of the room, the wasteland, the metropolis...
The sound of the pen scratching the paper always somehow managed to soothe me and invigorate me.
Seeing the characters come to life after the ink left the pen somehow seemed magical to me.
And the best part was that it was something i could do anytime for as long as i had the pens and paper at hand, which in the end was almost 100% of the time.
Many dont understand that writting, the act of writting to be precise, can be so enjoyable.
No matter what comes out of the act, wether its a story worth keeping or just another writting experiment gone wrong, it always makes my day brighter, my soul lighter.
My point being:
try to implement in your everyday life something small but significant to you so that it fills your day and gives it meaning.
It helped me a lot through the hardships i had to endure...

Retrospective

It is funny to look back sometimes, see what you had to do to get to where you are now.
I try to avoid that as it brings forth one too many bad memories, but still I can't refrain from doing so.
Looking back, it all makes sense, like a little line of pebbles that stretch from the start of your journey to your present.
But back in the day it all seemed confusing, it all seemed strange, it all seemed... alien.
I still feel alienated from time to time, i look at the pebbles and some dont seem to follow the pattern the others do, yet they hold their rightful place firmly as to confirm that they have been placed there for a reason.
I look back at all the white pages i filled with my thoughts, my feelings, it all makes sense, it enlightens me.
Lost as I was in myself, i could have never imagined a way out of there, yet here i am:
Walking the street as any other man, enjoying the simple things in life, the things that truly give meaning to it, still writting, still fighting, still sharing, for sharing is what started this journey, and sharing it will end.
For now... I dare you to find me before i tear down the fabric of this distopia.
Best of luck to you in your journey

...

"He cant be serious, can he?"
"How should I know?!"
"I mean... there is absolutely no way for him to be here, is there?"
"After all I have read, I can most certainly say I am ready to believe anything at this point. Think about it: how did his writtings get here in the first place?"
"I assume the police caught wind of them and decided to lock them up so noone could get acces to them"
"What if... What if he locked them inside here on purpose?"
"Huh?!"
"Yes, what if he locked them here on purpose so that nobody besides people like us would find it?"
"Hm.... never thought of that"
"Maybe he really is here..."
A rattling sound startled them both.
"It cant be..."
"I..."
A mouse quickly made its way into the gutter.
"Just a mouse..."
"I almost got a heart attack..."
A voice behind them startled them for a second time
"I think the best time to have one would be right about now!"

They quickly turned around

When doing something new

Nothing is easy if it is new to you.
Your environment changes constantly and you have to adapt to it or you have to shape it to cater your needs.
When starting something new, dont give up easily, be persistent, be active, try to improve.
No one will tell you that it is easy, and no one can tell you how rewarding it might be.
Dont just dream about something working out or hope for the best, work for it, work towards it.
Make a schedule and keep it, adapt it when necessary, for you and only you, when being honest with yourself, can measure wether or not you are actually doing as much as you should.

The first step is the hardest, and the ones that follow might be just a little bit easier.
But each step should be in itself a reward.
And the last step, the most rewarding of your entire journey

Thoughts of a dying shadow (For Her)

I´m dying...
Funny to think about it, I did not even know that I was capable of such a feat, but here I am, on the ground, flat on my stomach, slowly fading away.
It does not bother me that much though, the only thought inside my mind is her.
Dark hair, dark eyes, a stare that would enthrall me every time she directed her gaze in my direction.
Her hips, they would drive me crazy every time I could see them, just picturing them inside my mind sends shivers down my spine and makes my slowing heart make a last effort to try to show me it is still alive and beating. Do not worry fella, we will soon be somewhere quiet, somewhere safe.
Her legs, powerful, strong, they had to be since they carried a strong woman on them. She did not like them that much, but I could not help but stare at them and marvel at their perfection.
Her smile... her smile was able to brighten even the darkest days, lighten the gloomiest moods, make my frown instantly turn into a smile.
She was like a cat somehow, or at least that is how I remember her. She was completely autonomous and did everything by herself, she would sometimes flee from my attempted snuggles, tell me I am too attached, how could I not be? But she would also sometimes approach me and demand some attention, attention I was more than willing to give her. Hugging her was one of the best feelings I can remember right now, feeling her warmth on my body, her smell flooding my nostrils, her soft skin under my finger tips.

I am dying, and I am dying alone.

The blood is slowly but surely forming a pond under my stomach, I can feel the farm liquid sticking to my clothes, soaking them.
Good thing I decided to wear a dark red shirt, this way it will not be that noticeable.

I remember her, and I miss her, but I am not granted her presence right now, at my last moments.
I perhaps do not deserve it either, but I still miss her.

My vision is getting foggy, I stop feeling my limbs, my muscles relax and give in to the sleepyness that is death.

This is me, a shadow of my former self, and these are my thoughts: Her.
I hope I will be able to see her from wherever I go, else I will consider it to be hell.

These lines are for you, to tell you that I loved you, that I still do, that I miss every second of the time we spent together.

My last words flee my now cold mouth...

breaking a habit, making a habit

They say it's very difficult to break a habit but I know for sure that it's also very hard to make one.
Darkness had accompanied me most of my time during my first few weeks, I think it might have been weeks but I can't be sure since there was no way to keep track of time, and the light seemed at first comforting company.
But it was not enough.
I had to do something, there were just too many spare hours in my days that were wasting away due to my inability to actually do something.
I had to change that, but in order to do so I would have to make a habit, no easy task for someone like me.
I am the kind of person who has trouble when starting something, the first step is the most difficult one for me, once I get that one going, the rest just comes naturally, just as the words on this paper are being written without previous thought.
There was paper and there were writting utensils, I needed nothing more appart from that and the light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
So there I silently sat staring at the satinated stern walls with no thought in mind regarding what I should write down, what could be relevant, what could even transcend someday, if and only if I were to get out of here.
But suddenly it came, the idea that started all this madness, the spark of sanity in the sea of caos that had become my mind for the past minutes.
Just write
It seemed so simple and yet so incredibly vague that it frightened me.
Just write?
Just write
Write for yourself, write for the ones that will never see this pages, write for the ones who will, write for someone who might be trapped as you are, write for the free, write for the young, write for the old, for the ones already gone and the ones that have yet to come
Just write
And so I sat down and began writting down everything I could remember about how I had gotten into this mess and how my existence had carried on trapped in between these four walls.

Poise(on)

Why do you poison me?
You say you love me, you say you want to see me fly
yet every day you rip some of my feathers off
and off i go into solitude and confinement
for the resentment i feel is way beyond words
that may describe any emotion
Devotion is what you think i should feel
yet nothing nearly as good forms in
my wretched mind wandering
with the wind i go
and with the wind that brought me
ill leave
not alone
not affraid
not broken

To a white paper

Dont stare at me like that, its not like I want to see you like this.
My most inner desire is to clothe you, to give you meaning, to give you something to be remembered for, but I am not sure I will be able to do that today.
Today is not a rainy day, so I can not clothe you with water drops.
Today is not a sunny day, so I can not clothe you with sunshine.
Today is not a cloudy day, so I can not clothe you with soft clouds.
Today is not a foggy day, so I can not make a translucent veil that may cover just some parts of your beauty.
Today is not a snowy day, so I can not make you a white winter cape.
Today is just a dark day and I cant see your beauty at all.
I will make you a dress made of dew, for my tears are starting to flow and I would dislike to see them spilled in vain.
Please give me one more day, just one more, to make you shine through, let everybody see you and admire your beauty, your grace, your wisdom.
Today I can only offer my words, tomorrow I will offer the world.

Logbook

2024 AD
Captain Terrojas Logbook
The Banshees have been howling for a while now.
Not that it concerns me, their victim is probably either almost or already dead.
And those bitches wont be able to come near me.
Lucky charms id dare to say.
I knew that those books about chinese charms would come in handy one
day or another. Good night sleep assured for me.
But the plain darkness that surrounds me isnt confortable. The solitude of
the badlands is common, but that doesnt mean that you get accustomed to it.
Since everyone is on their own and you really cant trust nobody, its not like
you would enjoy company anyway. Ironic, aint it?
And dont expect no good will come out of someone knocking on your door.
Last time i did it turned out to be possesed dolls.
Creep the heck outta me.
I have been trapped inside this wreck for two days now. And it doesnt look
like I'm gonna leave anytime soon. I saw a sandstorm brewing in the
distance before the banshees started chasing me.

The Banshees howling has ceased, interrupted by a loud roar that split the night.
What kind of terrible creature is out there with the power and ability to silence the shrieking of death itself?
Not like Im going to leave the safety of the charms to find out, but I reckon Im having a hard time dealing with my curiosity.
Maybe Ill check it out in the morning.
Maybe...

Write for me

"Why dont you try writting something erotical for a change?"
Her words struck me...
"What do you mean?"
"I have read some of your writtings, you have your style, you have your stories,you writte about different genres, but never have i seen you writte something of an erotic nature"
"That may be true..." - I muttered.
"Well of course its true, have you even ever considered it?"
"Not really" - I admitted, more to myself that to her.
"Well?" - she looked at me with her pretty dark eyes. I could see she wanted me to do it, let my imagination and probably my perversion break free and flow onto a piece of paper.
"I... I will try, I promise"
"Yay!" - her eyes lit up and she hugged me tightly.
If it meant so much to her, hell knows why, then I would try my best.

[...]

At home I, for the first time, confronted a blank piece of paper onto which I would write something I had never written before.
No fantasy, no steampunk, no slice of life, no such topics would appear in it, though I could write something with elves...
No no no, nothing like that. I must try to write something life-like, something that could happen to anyone...
Who am I kidding? I have no clue on how to start such a journey.
My hand shook as I neared the pencil to the table.
Fear... I was affraid.
The unknown is what we are affraid of, let it be darkness, let it be another religion, another race, just another human being, but something of which we dont know nothing about.
I got up from my seat and quickly went over to the window to gace at the nightsky.
Faintly shinning stars embedded in the dark blanket that was the universe.
Tomorrow would be a new day, a new chance to go on an adventure, to write what had never been written, to confront myself with this newfound fear...
Tomorrow was the day

The businesscard

I have to admit that I sometimes struggled to restrain myself from splitting his head open with an axe.
His voice so irritating, his face so perfecttly inmaculate. I couldnt stand the sight of it.
One day... onde day...
One day I would make my wishes come true, see him sheding blood, his guts splattered on the floor, his eyes pleading, asking for forgiveness, for mercy, for a swift death.
But none of that would do, no mercy for the perfect, no acceptance for the weak, no tolerance for the hypocrites.
A perfect painting would I paint with his punny blood, pathetic fools work he would seem once his pure body lay sprain on the floor, his pulsing veins still fulfilling their unpaid duty, his heart pounding his life away, poor poor powerless being, left alone to die like a pooch on the street.
I ponder if he would look pretty on my pink wall if I were able to compose with his precious body a work of art.
Thoughts aside I cant help but feel belittled by his display of power, treating everybody else as no more but a slave, there are no coworkers, just slaves ranked higher in his personal power hierarchy.
The white of the paper is probably perfect, not a single stain.
The font carefully chosen.
The ink merged with the paper as if a wizards work had been involved, not a single speck of imperfection displayed.
And the texture of the paper... one could run his finger a thousand times and still get somewhat aroused by it.
And he would not say where he had gotten hold of such a masterpiece, that he would not tell to anyone as he said himself.
Oh, but he would...
He jocked about the value of it by proclaiming that even if his life were at stake, no one would find out where he gotten hold of it.
I would find out if what you say is true, I swore to myself I would.
Sooner or later, but i would...

The Legacy

On a tiny scrap of paper do I wish to writte what I leave in this world and once belonged to me.
To anyone who would read this:
To my youth I bequeath my early years, in which I enjoyed running through the fields and playing with all the woodland critters. There were no boundaries, no time limits, no responsabilities, just the fresh air and the joy you could muster up in any activity.
To the teenagers I bequeath the wisdom I didnt have at that time. Dont sweat the small stuff, dont listen to what others have to say, dont stay inside just because others dont like the way you are. Go out, meet people, enjoy, get drunk, get high, fall in love, get brokenhearted, start planning what you would like your future to be, do sports, make music, make a fool of yourself, get wiser, get stronger, question everything you have been told.
To the adults I bequeath what little time I have in this world. Dont work too hard, enjoy your free time, spend it the way you want, not the way others would want you to, go out, go wild. Love your friends and love your partner if you have one, spend time with them, think everything over, as nothing is as it may seem to be, dont judge others, dont let others judge you.
And last to the elderly I bequeath the energy they need to carry on, the company they long for in the long days they may spend alone in their homes, not wanting to be a burden to anyone but themselves.
The moments of joy in the park, the company of the birds on those sunny afternoons as they watch the rest of the world carry on without them.
And to them I also leave this note, so they may carry on what I started.

I know it may not seem much, but it is everything I have and surely do i hope it will help some of those who by any chance may stumble upon this, my last will and testament.

My time is up, I lived my life, I paid my dues, time after time I fell and then got up yet again with the same energy as all the times before.

And lastly I would like to leave a line to you, you know who you are. You accompanied me on this journey for quite some time, but sadly left before me on a warm spring morning, your kiss the only goodbye I ever got treasured as my most priced possesion.
Soon i hope to rejoin with you, all I ask of you is that you scold me for being late and then hold me tightly in your arms, so we may never again part ways.

To you, the reader of this, my last will, I give my gratitude for spending a moment of your busy life for the sake of reading such a meaningless scrap of paper you probably found by coincidece.
May the years be gentle with you...

Turmoil

The star lit sky gave me no rest on this night.
All the turmoil and caos around me promised many restless nights, if there
was ever to be a good night sleep for me.
How could so many believe in something so cruel, something so erratic, so
random, so unfair.
Was god real?
Doubt it...
And even if he were, i would not bow down to him even if he were to descend
from the heavens and in person asked me to join him.
Suffering, poverty, hunger, wars, terrorism...
If he sat and watched all that happen, he was not worth praising.
I could only fathom what frustration it was for some to hear others praising
god for a job well done by them.
If the operation goes as thank god.
If it didnt, the surgeons fault.
Such a double standard made me mad to the point of having to take a few
long breaths in order to repress the urge to hit something.
Miraculous recovery, its gods work, its a miracle, cant you see? What more
proof do you need?
I would definitely need some solid proof, not just the dreams and delusions
of mad men wanting the invisible dinosaur in the dark room to be real.
As real as the Alicorn sitting next to me while im writting this. Her mane
flowing with the wind, whispering sweet words into my ear, telling me
everything will turn out for the best.
A person that hears voices in his head: a madman.
A person that hears gods voice in his head: a saint, a chosen one, a holy
person and other names like that.
No different to me, those who listen to voices in their head are crazy.
Yeah... I know that Snowy... Yes, i am crazy myself, Snowy agrees.
I am mad myself, yet i have achieved the clarity and state of mind to
aknowledge that i didnt go crazy by myself, the world made me this way.
Or am i just pretending i am mad so that i may seem human?
I may just be wearing a mask, just like everybody else, so that i dont have to
deal with the idiocy and lunacy around me.

If i were to preach Snowy's religion to the others claiming that it is the true
one, i would end up locked up in sanitarium, where all the worlds preachers
should be.

See that, Snowy?
See the madnes?
See the sadness?
See the suffering?
The greed? The hate?
The egocentristic mindset of the society i have to live in?
Good thing you dont have to live here, i dont think you would make it through
the day.
Seeing all the enslaved animals, the poluted rivers, the cut down trees, all
that they call progress.
I sometimes wish i could leave almost everything behind and go live with
chinese monks or with a tribe, no matter the place, just live a simple life.
Almost all i would be glad to leave behind, yet my friends and my partner is
worth going through what seems like hell in order to keep them by my side.
As precious they are to me as a diamond.
You are precious too, Snowy, dont be jealous.

And now i rise, not as a hero, but as a villain to society, the villain this
society deserves, someone to take the blame, to make them open their
eyes to the real world they are living in.
No reward i expect, no sign of gratitude.
Stones, laughter, insults... that i expect.
I will welcome every single blow because i know that at the end of the day i
will be doing what is best for them.
For now i return to the shadows, not really knowing what lies ahead, but
knowing what i strive for.
My eyes will get acustomed to the darkness, my body to the beatings, my
hand to the grip of this pen, for i shall tell my journey to whomever would like
to read.

You will hear from me sooner than you think, untill that time comes, i bid
farewell.

The Slave

We are all slaves, children of darkness.
Sentenced to the world of fairy tales.
As slaves we are condemned to live
together in the darkest tales.
And when the moon glides on us,
high above on the star spread ceiling
in the unique experience
that is every single night,
we shall seek out the heart
that we desire most.
And nights go by,
and notes are played,
yet the music remains the same,
every time the melody
that lures us out of our hiding,
out of darkness
to witness the moons beauty one more time
to search for what we long for
what we once had, but no more.
And if the day were to come
in which the music ceased
we would go out hunting for the notes
scattered around the world they would be
lost, frightened, maybe even forgotten
our duty it will be to put back the piece
restore the melody that keeps us awake

That was the oath sworn by the ghosts once they were reawakened.
Death itself made us swear on its scite that we would, if there ever was the

need, restore the music.
The music that kept us alive. If it stopped playing for too long, our existence

would fade for ever from this world.
What created that music?
Where did it come from?
I can just tell that i hear it every night, when the moon reaches the peak.
The notes sound as if they were being poured into my ears slowly, like a

think liquid, into my head.
I can just hope that the music never stops...
I dont really know what i would be supposed to do if that were to happen.
I gaze up at the nightsky.
A beautiful night it is, but the dawn may bring sorrow upon me.
It may not go well, it may fail miserably.
I can just wish for everything to turn out for the best, as there isnt much more

i can do.
If he were to get out alive, where would he go anyway?
The nagging feeling of guilt wont leave me on this night.
I put him in this situation, yet i havent concerned myself with thinking what

could happen once he got out.
I remember there was a village near here, one in which there were still some

of the living. Maybe he could find shelter there...
The moon bathes me in its light.
I feel better now, the moon gives us ghosts some kind of energy i guess.
Dawn is approaching and i should be on my way...