Out of practice. Out of... basically everything, really.
Including effort, least for tonight.
Like Morningstar explained in that LOVELY little re-introductory post he did for me, we are on our way to handle a Nest issue. Back in my prime, such an adventure would be nearly a common day occurrence but... I'm not in my prime. I'll get back to it, I'm sure, but for now I'm left sparring with Shooter and Crouching Tiger in attempt to get my act back together.
I have decided one thing, however.
I must be human.
If I weren't, I wouldn't be this damn sore.
But, of course, its not just a matter of retraining the body, is it? No, the mind is much part of it too. And it has been... so very slow. I remember it took me what felt like a couple of days to even find my way out of the sewer when I woke up. The hive in my mind only growing more maddening the longer I stayed put. Forcing my legs to function... at least after I remember that, yes, they did have a function. A rather useful one, or so a nagging thought kept insisting. Even when I got back to my feet, I had to use the walls to keep any manner of balance. Slowly taking it step by step as my thoughts... seemed to yank and pull against themselves. A tangled ball of yarn with multiple ends. All seeming to lead to something solid, but unattainable...
Every step was a reminder.
Every breath a sliver of memory. A sliver of knowledge. Of awareness. Of SOMETHING that helped me piece together where I was...
and... who I was...
not to mention where I've been
Even now, there's still much that I don't remember. Gaps. I'm confident that some of that is still waiting to sink back into place - like a puzzle piece not quite looked at from the correct angle yet - but there are other blanks while... are not gaps at all. But rather Walls. Bricks and mortar built up, layer by layer by layer. My mind a web of mazed halls. A nonsensical grid that leads everywhere and nowhere all at once. Lined by doors. Hundreds upon hundreds of doors. Each and every one storing a piece of me. My past. My memories. My... experiences. These Walls... seal many of those doors. Actually, they seal most of them. Keeping inside a nauseous BUZZ... that could only possibly be my own madness. My own insanity. My depression and agony and torment...
My Time With Redlight.
It makes my stomach twist just thinking what nightmares could be behind those walls.
It makes my stomach twist... just thinking of how MANY Walls had to be constructed in order to make me functional once again.
I will find my footing again.
I don't care what it takes.
I will come back from this.
Mark My Words.
Do you find this funny? Is this a joke to you? Or perhaps you're merely a nobody who found a way to get a fast track into the center of attention. But let me tell you something, you are raking a good man's name through the mud. And when I find out who you are, I am going to butcher you. Slowly.
ReplyDeleteFUCK OFF BANKS. You KILLED NIGHTSCREAM ONCE AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO FUCKING DO IT AGAIN. Come near us and I will RIP YOU APART WITH MY BARE HANDS.
DeleteWell look at that. You've got a guard dog. I wonder what's going to happen when he realizes that you really aren't who you say you are? Does that matter to you? Does the fact that you are wearing the name of a real person who deserves to be honored rather than have their name jerked about like a puppet mean nothing to you?
DeleteNo joke once or ever, David. I know this is probably difficult for you to fully accept, considering our last... parting. But, I assure you, though changed, I am, I am me and no other. The Castle has a certain... impact on people. Or did you not even realize that's where I was taken after my Death?
DeleteThere are a lot of things in the world. And they all have a certain impact. I have seen the real Sam go through one of those. I have seen him well, I have seen him sick, and I know him. I understand him in a way few others do. And. You. Are. Not. Him. Do not insult me or his memory any longer.
DeleteThe Castle Is Not Of This World.
DeleteDo not insult when I WENT THROUGH in there. Do not.
Don't insult what you went through /here/.
DeleteQuery. If one has been tortured, how do you make the nightmares and flashbacks stop? PleasE?
ReplyDeleteIf I'd known that, I wouldn't have taken my own life.
DeleteBest I can offer you... is to find something to occupy your mind with. Find something to focus on. Silence is your enemy.