The streetlight by my front door flickers into red, pauses, and slowly begins its ascent into orange as the city around it descends into darkness. The sky fades from blue, to navy, to black. It’s the end of another year, as colour washes out of the landscape and all the shops close their doors on the freezing world.
So much has changed, since last time Winter settled its snowy wings over us… Life has changed its pace, a little – speeded up, I think, although considering the future that might not be such a good thing… I have but six months left here with the people I love before I must apparently embark on the next stage of my journey – something approximating adulthood. Of course, I wish that years like that gone by would last forever. For all its ups and downs, the year gone by was drenched with so much feeling that I don’t want to let it go.
Twenty-two days ago, as the afternoon twilight fell across the city, the universe’s discordant orchestra started to play, and the dance began. November’s winds blew chill through our hearts, and our search for warmth pulled the world out of shape as we whirled and jumped on the ballroom floor.
In time that floor fell away and, through the orchestra played still in our hearts, the world around us ceased to exist. Appointments lost to sleep, mornings lost to alcohol, evenings lost to tears. Through our pain and confusion, we ignored the world and lived in our own instead. And, what’s more, we survived. We made the world our own despite the confusion, and we saw things through until the end.
Whisky should perhaps not be regarded as a good substitute for sleep.
I’m not sure what yesterday actually did, and despite a friend’s intentions I don’t think it did much. I visited a nice place (except for the forest) and met nice people, and I would love to visit again. But not now, not for a while. That place isn’t a home for me, nor will it ever be.
Meh, and there was me thinking for a while that I was fixed again. The last few days have been fun, they really have. And then tonight, humans started to annoy me again. And then Little Andy started to annoy me. Deliberately. And pushed me all the way.
Ah, Sundancer, I lament that the compulsion to write required me to name you and give you power. Not power enough, of course, but then I’m a bit glad about that.
It would be a lie if I were to say that I was in control. I guess, really, I never have been. Not three years ago, not a year ago, and not now either. I’ve finally realised what I’ve been mising over these past two weeks, a major factor in the confusion that abounds. My emotional control. I don’t have any.
There are certain things I’m not allowed to do, and yet I’m not sure I have the control to stop myself. And I shouldn’t find human interaction irritating, so why do I? I shouldn’t find perfectly normal comments from my friends offensive, so why do they upset me? I shouldn’t complain about other people acting completely normally and I have no reason to complain, but why do I feel like I should be allowed to?
And so the confusion carries on. Barely a few hours after my Monday afternoon crash, yet another situation reared its head and has begun to be dealt with. I didn’t get to sleep until 6am that night, and didn’t wake up until 3pm the following day, missing all my lectures once more. Once more that night my room entertained a guest, or maybe more than one… After all, I did say he could visit, and that applies to both the human and the other. And I got to see the blossoming of a Mage Ego, those things that I bemoan so much… =p
Still, while those events have put my brain once more through the mangle, things are looking up. In theory, life is going fine and well… Although an extra complication has appeared which makes my heart feel awkward. Also, long-distance relationships hurt. And the idea that people might be upset hurts, and the idea that people might be bored hurts, too.
This weekend has… No, this past week and a half has been… intense. I’ve done new things and had new emotions and there have been hearts broken and healed and slipping deeper into deliria. The world has broken and reformed over and over again, reconfiguring itself to flood our world with emotion and feeling, for better or for worse. There are still troubles – there always were and will always be; and there are still joys – there always were and will always be.
There’s Glamour in the air, glittering off everyone and everything. And I’m just going with the flow, going with the Story. What’s happening is so out of my depth that I’m not trying to push back.
Pieces of paper, roughly cut from an all but worthless book, spiral to the floor as the force of the knife ejects them from what once was their home.
Each of us has an inner struggle, and the time has come to release some pressure, it seems. Not that this is completely to do with me. Maybe I’m the cause of some of it, but I’m not the whole of it. Either way, others’ emotions rub off on me. And deep inside me, a personality I dislike stirs, and I shake.
I love dice-luck sometimes. I’ve barely ever had a good roll in Zane’s game, and now tonight… I roll seven 10-sided dice.
The results: 6, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10.
Today, I talked about some things with people, and realised some things that I should have realised all along. Life isn’t confusing anymore, it’s not messed up and I’m sane again. The world is simple now; it makes sense.
Walking home today, I breathed deeply in the rain-tinged evening air and my entire body filled with life and energy. It felt like I was seeing in colour for the first time in forever, like I trailed coloured streamers as I walked.