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durusiudex · 1 year

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Before you read this, keep in mind that it was written at 5 am with no sleep. It's a little rambly and all over the place but none the less, please read it.

If I'm going to be honest I don't think I'm ok. I sleep less, reality is still becoming less real. Most days I feel as if I may not be alive to see Arizona. More over, I can't shake the feeling that something is coming.

I eat less everyday. Hardly a day ever goes by where i don't feel sick. Maybe I'm going insane. Maybe I have some sickness. Maybe I'm delusional and imagining things.

I know I'm depressed, I know I'm not mentally healthy. By all appearances I look healthy than I have in years. I lost massive amounts of weight, but its not healthy weight loss.

It's a storm in my head. No silence ever, it's like I'm reaching for something thats just not there. I don't feel... anything. Love, happy, sad, angry. Not really. I've gotten good at faking it, practiced making the right expressions at the right time. I've almost convinced every one I'm normal, that everything's fine. Not even Dylan knows the whole truth of it though.

I'm so desperate for God to contact me. Tell me... anything. I keep searching for a purpose. A reason for all this suffering... but I don't think there is one. I've contemplated suicide. I don't think there's any place for me in a meaningless world.

Everyone is so fake... they talk about the new show they're watching, things they've done in a game. Brag about promotions at work or how they just bought a house. They don't see the meaningless of all that, they don't see the universe and God. They don't see what was before God. They don't care.

Who am I? I don't mean what physical details and personality traits. I mean on a soul deep level, who am I on the cosmic scale of reality. Am I really some animal that evolved on a rock in the middle of nothing? Am I a being made by another? When I die is it all black or is it just the next step in this journey.

Who is God? Is God the science and rules of the universe? Is God a sentient force? Would he be able to respond if I talked to him face to face?

I had a vision where I met him. He told my the story of nothing becoming something, but even he does not know what's outside of him, he doesn't know where he came from or why. He just is.

Am I just the creation of a creation? Do I hold no power in this reality or am I just a few thoughts and epiphanies away from becoming God myself? Am i God? Did I make all of this? If so, why?

I've said before I know I'm not mentally healthy, I ponder things a healthy human wouldn't. I imagine myself as God, a savior, Jesus. I know I can't be, I know in reality I'm just some sad ape on a rock in space like every other person. But then why can't I relate to anyone?

When I look down, deep inside myself... it's a dark void. Nothing. Empty. I'm nothing.

I fantasize about technology that could ever possibly exist. I imagine myself as the creator of it. I imagine a great, terrible war between me and... something, someone. Yet it's all just in my head. I don't see this world like others, I don't want to get a good job and make lots of money, I don't even like money. I wanna work but I want to work doing something I love.

No one sees me... not the actual me. Maybe my masks are too good, maybe no one cares. I'm not a good person yet people insist I am and it's actually upsetting at times.

If God exists, if there's a greater purpose, then I can manage in this world. If I can gain some small amount of control in this world that's based on money or fear or hate, I could be happy. But if there's nothing? If we just accidentlyed into existence, if there's nothing after death...

I sit or lay on the couch day and night if I'm not working or walking and I just think and contemplate existence, reality and even what's outside of reality. I challenge myself to think of something new, not a new arrangement of atoms and colors, not a new kind of thing, but something that doesn't exist in any sense of existence. Something that does not have any base in what we see as reality. And what do I have to gain for my efforts? Nothing. I have not made any meaningful break throughs, I haven't uncovered any secrets of the universe, i haven't learned about God or existence. I just have theories that I can't even start to prove.

I don't even think we're sentient. I think our inability to create something entirely new, with no context to what we know, is the evidence to support that. I think we are attempting to advance the wrong way, I don't think there's anything out there in the stars. I think continuing to strive for technological growth will only put us in more misery. Well destroy the planet, kill the beautiful life on this planet and ultimately choke ourselves out of existence. All for what? What do we stand to gain? It's futile.

I think I have an overactive imagination... I tell myself I'm forming a set of beliefs but really it's just me trying to prove to myself that what I don't belive in exist. I want there to be more but I don't think there is.

It's all so pointless.

#theroy #God #venting #random thoughts #help #existential #reality #unreality #alot #rambling #thinking

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cbspams · 3 years

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D-0: The Arena

Buckle in because this is a long one.

CW: Canon-typical violence, mentions of blood and murder

It's so quiet in the hovercraft, like no one wants to breathe. In complete darkness, there's no way to know how long they've been smoothly gliding in the air. Maybe it's been minutes, hours. Probably not days though. Felix can't imagine the Arena being too far, since they're supposed to be broadcasting today. Plus, in the Capitol, no one ever travels very far outside it's circular bounds, so there's no reason to hold the Games so very far away.

His arm hurts a bit, but that's probably some kind of placebo effect. The trackers are supposed to have a numbing agent, to make sure the tributes are at their tip top shape. Whatever that means. Felix wonders if he could pick out where they pricked him. Probably not, the trackers are teeny and the needles they use so thin.

Someone takes a breath, shuddering and unsure. A sign of weakness to be preyed on. It only raises the tension in the darkness. Felix wonders if the Careers are calculating now where the sound came from, if they can pinpoint which district area. His fellow Eight tribute shivers next to him, a near imperceptible movement to anyone else. There's a small temptation to reach over and grab her hand but... There's no point in that now.

Instead, Felix closes his eyes, letting darkness flood darkness and waits for the inevitable rumbling that signals their descent into the arena.

------

Each tribute is released one by one, escorted by a Peacekeeper. In order, from One to Twelve. So naturally, Hyunjin goes first. He glances back, makes eye contact with the girl from One and Yang Jeongin from Two and Bang Chan from Four. Nods his head ever so slightly as he's escorted out. A kind of reaffirmation. Deep down, he's grateful they nod back, or at least Chan does. Jeongin's eyes soften just a touch, which is about as good as it gets with a Two tribute. Then, Hyunjin goes down the ramp of the hovercraft, across the landing strip into a small, pristine while building. From here, he will walk down and down and down, until it feels like if he walks any further, he'll end up in the molten core of the earth.

The Peacekeeper turns him to his left and the metal doors slide open soundlessly, still with the orderly glide of Capitol doors. Hyunjin steps in and the doors shut behind him. The tribute uniform this year is... white. Pure, unadulterated white. How unusual. Normally the Arenas favor darker colors, manipulations of shadows and light. But perhaps they want more of a show this year, more excitement. White is a clean color after all, it's much easier to stain.

Hyunjin touches the fabric carefully, narrowing his eyes. The outfit is comprised of a sleeved shirt, a skin tight jacket, slim fit but flexible pants. They even give him a pair of combat boots, also white and laced with white. There's a total of four pockets, two on the jacket and two on the pants, but they run deep and zip up so at least there's that. The Gamemakers really are cruel this year. Anyone with a wearable token will stand out like there's no tomorrow. There's something particularly audacious about this outfit too, because Careers are often the ones drenched in red first. Are the Gamemakers painting them as targets? Do they expect them to lose?

What a joke.

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Seungmin slips on the jacket and zips it up high, but not quite to the top. It's a bit snug there, and he needs full range of motion for his neck. He stretches this way and that to test how far he can extend himself, but these clothes were designed to be moved in. That's good at least. It'll make it easier to run. White though... He doesn't like that. Not at all. Seungmin had spent an extraordinary amount of time at the camouflage station, ready to hide anywhere but if the Arena is only one color... Well, that's suspicious and dangerous. There's less places to hide in that sense.

Still, this isn't completely out of the scope of his analysis. There was a year where the Arena was made of ice, pale whites and blues and hints of yellow from the fake sun. So he had prepared as much for a sort of monochrome space. Inconvenient, annoying, but not inexplicable. Likely the Arena this time won't be pure snow and ice, there's no reason to watch tributes freeze to death in this thin outfit they've been given. It's very boring, and the Gamemakers are dedicated to making these Games anything but.

The doors slide open again and Seungmin nods a greeting to Wendy, who has pale blue woven into her blond braids today, with matching blue eyes that pierce through him. She smiles sweetly and reaches out to straighten out his collar. He's put it all on correctly, she knows, so there's no point in checking that. Instead, she fixes the tiniest of details, brushes his hair out of his face, lingers a bit at his earring. Only one, a tiny ring made of wood and metal. There's nothing special about it of course, because otherwise it wouldn't have been allowed. But it is special, to Seungmin, and maybe even to Wendy as she stares at it with almost longing. She bids him good luck at the sound of the first buzzer, a warning to get on the circular platform at the corner of the room. He bids her farewell in true Seven fashion, with a clasp of his hands over hers and pushing her hands back to her chest before releasing. Now, there will be no friendly face, no kind voice.

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Chan doesn't like the platform. No one does but... It's unnaturally smooth. He's so used to the waves of the ocean, the rockiness of the earth, and this platform is anything but. It's an odd anxiety inducing thing, to be in an environment so sterile. But the Arena might not be. Maybe the Arena will have some kind of advantage for him, an ocean or a sea replica. Even though that's dangerous in it's own way. Chan would know better than anyone else that the sea can be as unforgiving and cruel as it is accepting and kind. He takes a breath and steps onto the circle carved out, turning and nodding at Karina, who touches her hand to her neck and then extends it outward to him before bowing slightly. He smiles at that and does the same as the glass tube descends around him. A ritual of the sea, to give him comfort. He prays he can say thank you to her later.

The ride up is short, no more than sixty seconds. Perhaps even less. There are only thin strips of light on the way up, and by the speed of the platform, they flash by quicker than Chan would really like. He can only imagine how disorienting it must be for someone who's really frightened. But soon the lights flash their final and brightest and Chan has to squeees his own eyes shut to protect them. As soon as the platform stops moving though, he peers out, cautiously at first.

[ Oh and what a grand space we’ve created for you today ladies and gentlemen! Feast your eyes upon this brand new creation! ]

His eyes widen and it’s only years of strict self control that prevent him from dropping his jaw too. The Arena is white, pure and simple. But not because of snow, not because of dense cloud cover. No, it’s pure white because it is a room, a circular one with the Cornucopia in the center as it’s grand eye catching splash of color. This year, they’ve clustered everything close. Too close for Chan’s liking. But all the packs are striking colors, bold reds and blues and greens. Some are even patterned, stripes and dots. Chan glances to his left then to his right, spotting the other Careers and… again he is reminded that there are no rules here. He is reminded to be grateful that he was chosen to join. Because now, he has far more of a fighting chance than before. Gritting his teeth, he stares directly at the long spear on the edge and clenches his hands. It’s almost time.

------

Jeongin knows there’s the sixty seconds to wait until they can sprint off their platforms. In those sixty seconds, he has to calculate. There’s a set of throwing knives, those are for Hyunjin. A sword, deadly sharp and thin, for his partner tribute from Two. A spear, undoubtedly for Chan from four who’s greatest strength lies in his accurate aim and forceful throw. Jeongin himself narrows his eyes, glossing over a handheld scythe, a bow with a quiver of arrows, a machete. He decides that a dagger will do, because he has always prefer to be personal with his kills. It’s more satisfying that way.

He views the other tributes, determines that he has to take down the strong first. This first day is when they’re all in peak condition. The longer he waits to deal with the more powerful, the more trouble it will be. First would of course be the kid from Ten, who stirred up such a storm among the Capitolites. Then maybe the kid from Eight, Five. Seven is smart, but he seems like he’ll rely more on surviving than killing. Chan said to watch out for Three, but Jeongin has to pick and choose his own targets first.

The seconds count down, until Jinyoung's voice rings out, grave and yet as cheerful as usual. The voice of an entertainer. Jeongin lets it sink in his ears as he zeroes on on his weapon, does a last minute calculation to snag a bag from the edge. It'll keep the other tributes near him from being able to get resources, which means they'll either have to go without or die trying to get into the inner circle.

[ Let the 78th Hunger Games, begin. May the odds be ever in your favor.

10... 9... 8... 7... 6... ]

It's showtime.

------

[ 5... 4... 3... 2... 1 ]

The cannon booms and everyone is sprinting. There's no way out of it, you need something from the Cornucopia to make it even the first night. The precious few packs scattered around the edges would be targeted first, for anyone who wasn't a career. Changbin doesn't bother thinking about that though. Thinking was a luxury for the sixty second grace period, now it's time to run like hell.

His aim is for a medium sized pack, located not quite at the edge but far enough from the middle that it's lower risk. It's isolated, so for now he'll have to ditch potential weapons. Maybe there's some grace of the Gamekeepers here, because his platform was located between a scrawny Twelve tribute and a frightened Six, both of whom stumble at first getting off the platform. A fatal mistake, but one Changbin fully intends to take advantage of.

At the same time, he keeps an eye out for the Careers, for Ten and the few other threats around. As expected, One with his long legs reaches the center area of the Cornucopia first. Changbin forces himself not to flinch when he sees him pick up a couple small throwing knives, rearing his hand back and whipping it forward with so much force that it lodges itself lethally in the Eleven boy's eye. Changbin redirects his attention, ducking low to snag the pack he was aiming for and slinging it over his shoulder before performing the sharpest hairpin turn he can to sprint off. The Arena isn't open spaced like it normally is. No, there are hallways, placed in uneven intervals. He races down one of them just as he hears the shrill shriek of another tribute, and as he twists down a turn, he catches a glimpse of a spray of bright red painting the wall.

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Jisung darts down the hall, turning this way and that down the twists. In his mind, he memorizes, left left right left right. There's no echoing in the hallways, which feels odd because the floor seems hard and tile like, even if it's also smooth like laminate. It must be something between the shoes and the floor, something causing the lack of friction. Basic physics. Jisung snaps himself out of it, taking two more turns (right right) and pauses to catch his breath. He warily keeps an eye out on both ends of the hallway though, just in case. Now that things aren't a blur racing by anymore, he sees... Doors? Some of them are obvious, with door knobs and embellishments. Some of them are near invisible, just a clean outline against the wall.

Natural curiosity tells him to try and open one, caution tells him to crouch down and figure out what the hell is in this bright yellow bag he grabbed. Caution wins out of course, so he crouches and unzips the backpack. It’s not big, so he doesn’t expect much out of it. A small bottle for water, some bleach drops, a couple sticks of what looks like jerky and…

Jisung lifts up the last item in confusion because it’s not something you see nearly ever. It’s a spray can, yellow paint, no markings. The rest of the items are standard, likely in every pack. But this, this is unusual. There has to be a reason for it right? They don't do jokes in the Games, not like that. Jisung narrows his eyes, turning the can over and over, trying to peel away the sticker. But there's nothing, and the sticker doesn't budge. Bizarre. Very much so. Jisung twitches as he spots something, a flickering out of the corner of his eye. He zips up his pack again and starts walking slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone or anything.

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Minho shakes the can, narrowing his eyes. He doesn't really know much about this but don't paint cans usually contain some kind of marble or something inside? That would make a rattling sound right? But there's nothing, no sound, not even the feeling of sloshing liquid inside. It just feels, full somehow.

He looks up, staring at one of the doors. It's the kind you see often in the Capitol, silent, gliding on electromagnetic whatever. The kid from Three could probably parse it out easily, but Minho's on his own. He approaches it slowly, grimacing at the blood trail left on the floor. But he doesn't dwell on it too long, since it'll get cleaned up in about five minutes. It's like the floor absorbs blood or something.

The door itself really doesn't seem to do anything. Unlike the ones in the Capitol that merely open by movement, this one stays firmly shut even as he approaches it. He hesitantly reaches a hand out, only allowing his fingertips to touch and then jerking them right back afterward. But there's no shock, no odd sticky residue. Nothing alarming. So cautiously he presses his hand against the door and then sweeps it across, brows furrowed as still, nothing happens. If it's not the door, then maybe there's some kind of panel on the edges. Antiquated but the Games are nothing if not awfully inconvenient. He moves slowly but carefully, crawling every inch until... There. A little notch.

He presses his fingers against it firmly but it doesn't budge. Well if it's not push, maybe it's pull? But when he tries, it still doesn't move. He growls softly under his breath, staring at it, studying the shape (nothing special about that), the color (still white), the size (about the size of a shirt button). He squints at it, thinking. Maybe...

-----

Well well! It seems like another one has figured it out. Minho of District Ten has brought out his spray can and is looking at it. I do believe he'll be figuring out the secret to our doors soon enough! What's that? You want a hint? Well, if you watch him carefully spray the little button notch outside the door with the can he was given... Voila! The door's open and he gets... Ahh, fresh water. A lucky first choice for Minho from Ten ladies and gentlemen!

Oh? What's this? Chan from Four and Hyunjin from One have decided to explore down a hallway together, both carrying packs and weapons of choice. Did you see Hyunjin earlier with those throwing knives earlier? A truly instant and stunning execution of skill. And Chan's forceful toss that skewered Jiho to the wall? Incredible! These two are surely on the hunt now, all the others better watch out...

Three is making their way easily around this maze, having figured out the mechanisms to the door first. Changbin and Yooa are slowly but steadily making their way outwards, exploring rooms. Changbin especially seems to be attuned to the doors, pausing frequently to open them and take what's inside. Sadly it seems Yooa is not as fortunate, and caught an unlucky room just now. Perhaps they'll be able to make alliances easier with their expertise.

Ah! Felix from Eight has just found a room packed with food. He can't stay there though folks, because unfortunately the room will shift and it does not lock, so if he stays then he may get caught by someone he doesn't want to be caught by. Besides that, this is simply too much food for a single tribute to carry, and as we all know, speed is of the essence! Yes, he's going to be smart and specifically take out the long lived items: dried fruit, smoked meat, and oh? I believe that's some kind of vitamin powder? He'll need to find water for that. And off he runs... Hopefully he won't run into anyone else.

Perhaps this is feels right at home for Two. Jeongin and Mimi certainly seem to think so! Just look at how relaxed they are, setting up camp and inventorying items at the Cornucopia. Very different from how they were earlier, Jeongin slitting the throat of Seunghee from Eleven and Mimi gutting Jine from Six. That image of their twin smiles will forever live in the history books, won't they folks? They seem to be discussing something, let's take a closer look...

[ Jeongin: If it comes down to it, we can just kill them and then Rock Bottom it Mimi, don't be so worried about it. ]

[ Mimi: Sure. But for now, rotation system right? ]

[ Jeongin: Yeah. I don't want to sit here waiting all the time, as soon as they get back I'm heading out. Arin, you gonna come with? ]

[ Arin: Sure, I could use the exercise. Hey, did we find any food? I'm starving ]

[ Mimi: Nah. There's bottles and containers but no food. Probably scattered in the Arena somewhere. ]

[ Arin: Hopefully Chan and Hyunjin bring something back, I am not going to starve on my first night here. ]

Well well, aren't they just so prepared! While these Careers get themselves settled in, let's check in on our resident Brainiac shall we? How many of us were screaming when he nearly kicked the bucket earlier! He managed to limp off but now he's very much stuck dealing with this terrible leg injury. He's currently hiding in a room that, my my, looks like the entrance of a fantasy novel! It appears to be a dense forest, filled with foliage he can hide behind. Perhaps he'll find something to help treat his wound there, you certainly don't want to let it get infected!

Oh? Our little mystery boy from Five has just found a room completely filled with darkness. Due to the quality of our cameras, you can see there is a barrier separating that space to where Jisung is in the hallway. Perhaps there's something not so nice in that room. Will he enter? He seems to be thinking about it! He's leaning forward and-- Oh! A narrow escape from some absolutely massive claws! Nearly got his head torn off there. As it is, it seems like his cheek was caught a bit, those look like some nasty gashes. Ah, but he's smart, he's taking off his shirt and not his jacket to press up to the wound! That way he will still be able to hide his body among the background, because sadly these clothes do not break down blood like the floor does.

What an exciting first day! There go our cannons, projections of each dead tribute on the white walls. Eight dead, an unusually low number but... That just means there's more to come folks! Tune in for tomorrow's recap, and as always, may the odds be ever in your favor.

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[ TIMELINE DAY:HOUR:MINUTE:SECOND ]

00:00:00:00 GAMES START 00:00:00:30 JISUNG RUNS INTO HALLWAY 325 00:00:00:47 JEONGIN GETS HIS FIRST KILL 00:00:00:48 CHAN GETS HIS FIRST KILL 00:00:01:13 HYUNJIN GETS HIS FIRST KILL 00:00:01:24 CHANGBIN RUNS INTO HALLWAY 273 00:00:01:24 FELIX RUNS INTO HALLWAY 927 00:00:01:25 SEUNGMIN RUNS INTO HALLWAY 817, INJURED BY ARIN 00:00:01:30 MINHO CHALLENGES JEONGIN BEFORE ESCAPING INTO HALLWAY 692 00:00:02:56 JISUNG TAKES INVENTORY OF HIS PACK 00:00:05:27 CAREER PACK TAKES INVENTORY 00:00:07:26 MINHO DISCOVERS THE SPRAY CAN OPENS DOORS, FINDS CLEAN WATER 00:00:27:17 CHAN AND HYUNJIN GO HUNTING 00:00:45:28 CHANGBIN OPENS HIS FIRST DOOR, DISCOVERS WEAPONRY 00:02:37:17 FELIX DISCOVERS ROOM FULL OF FOOD 00:04:28:52 SEUNGMIN EXITS THE JUNGLE ROOM 00:07:51:27 HYUNJIN KILLS A DISTRICT 9 TRIBUTE 00:11:14:35 JISUNG GETS INJURED FROM A MYSTERY CREATURE 00:13:45:14 FELIX NEARLY GETS BEHEADED BY A TRAP ROOM, ESCAPES MOSTLY UNHARMED 00:16:06:07 CHAN SAVES HYUNJIN FROM POISON JETS 06:18:29:17 JEONGIN NEARLY BREAKS AN ARM, ESCAPES WITH A DISLOCATED SHOULDER. POPS IT BACK INTO PLACE BUT RETURNS TO THE CORNUCOPIA FOR TREATMENT. 00:17:02:18 SEUNGMIN BARELY MISSES JEONGIN, BOTH ARE UNHARMED 00:17:38:01 MINHO RIPS A CREATURE'S ARM OFF, TAKES POISONED CLAWS AS WEAPONS 00:18:27:19 CHAN HAS A CLOSE CALL WITH SOMETHING UNIDENTIFIABLE 00:20:17:28 MOST TRIBUTES SETTLE IN FOR THE NIGHT. CAREERS LOCATED AT THE CORNUCOPIA. CHANGBIN IN ROOM 182. JISUNG IN ROOM 9182. SEUNGMIN IN ROOM 827. FELIX IN ROOM 915. MINHO CONTINUES TO ROAM, SEEKING SOMETHING. 00:24:00:00 CANONS FIRE ANNOUNCING DAILY DEAD

#hunger games event #end of event #this is 3.7k ish words :)

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my-aria-nails · 2 years

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