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selenelavellan · 7 years

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Labyrinth (pt2)

Part One

Deceit, Fear, Dirthamen, and Venavismi (mentioned) belong to @feynites

Ana (mentioned) belongs to @lycheemilkart

The new section of the labyrinth seems simpler to navigate. Dirthamen finds himself being turned around less, and the walls seem to behave more like he believes walls should. At one point, he manages to find a pile of soft blue stones and begins to leave arrows on the bricks in an effort to keep from being turned around.

He believes it is all going rather smoothly, until he sees a bird flipping one of the bricks he had only just marked.

Well.

That certainly seems like cheating.

When he points this out, accusing the raven of the crime he has just seen committed, it seems to only laugh at him.

“Deception is a part of the game.” It informs him cryptically, before it shifts into a shadow and slips away, disappearing through the cracks between the bricks.

That is one option that is unhelpful, then.

As he continues his travels, he feels eyes on him. No matter which path he attempts, no matter how he tries to extend his magic attempting to sense any other presence, he cannot find any indicators.

Finally feeling fatigued by his long trek, Dirthamen stops to rest. He watches the sky overhead, the way the clouds move in a different manner than he is used to. Birds still traverse the sky, alongside other creatures he can only guess at the names of.

He is not sure it is safe to sleep here, but his body refuses to move all the same. The flowers on the wall seem to creep down the bricks and stone, blooms turning round and white as his eyelids grow too heavy.

A pity.

He wonders what being a goblin will feel like, before he falls away to the dreaming.

–

Des watches from where he is curled up in Selenes lap as Deceit returns from the labyrinth.

“He found the blue stones, this time.” They report, landing on their perch atop the throne.

Selene gives a slight nod as she continues running her fingers through Des's fur. “Good, then he is headed on the Northwest path. I don't believe there is anyone on that route who could spoil things, the way Ana nearly did.”

“She was just excited to see her friend again,” Des feels inclined to point out. “There's no need for punishment.”

“No, no, of course not.” Selene agrees. “I just worry about extraneous factors corrupting his judgment when he makes his choice.”

“I don't think friends count as extraneous factors.” Des retorts. “You know you could always go and join them for tea sometime.”

“If I ever have the time to spare, it will be towards the top of my list.”

“What is the point of being Queen if you never have time to spare? It is not as though the world will fall apart if you-”

Selene and Fear both raise their eyebrows at him.

“Ok, perhaps that was a bad example,” Des admits. “I don't understand though; why bring them all here if you are just going to avoid them anyways?”

“Because they are safe,” Selene sighs. “And that is more important than whether or not I can make it over for tea.”

“I am simply saying, perhaps you would feel less cold if you only-”

“So bring it up at the next city grievance meeting Des, I am not doing this again right now.” Selene snaps. She rubs one hand tenderly over her forehead; the headaches have gotten worse. She can barely wear the mask for an hour at a time now before the pain becomes unbearable, he's noticed.

It is worth wondering if it was an influence on her decision to make this Dirthamens final run through the labyrinth. Longing influencing Devotion, finally pulling her to its side after she has been worn down from fighting against it for so long.

A dangerous possibility.

Des stretches out in her lap, back arching as he lets his claws out. He jumps down and shifts back into a more elven form, stretching his arms up over his head until his back pops.

“Well then, I will leave you to your plans.” he tells her.

“And where are you going?” Fear asks.

“Out for a walk.” Des grins, stepping through the dreaming before either of them can stop him.

Selene lets out a frustrated huff.

“He was less of a pain when we were spirits.”

Fear and Deceit both nod solemnly in agreement.

–

Something is...touching him.

It is not entirely unpleasant, but it is very unsettling. Not fingers, but more like...ropes, somehow?

It is enough to wake him, by any means.

Dirthamen opens one eye, and then the other and looks to see what it is that is moving across him.

Some of the moss from atop the walls has slithered down the walls it seems, the flowers turned to eyeballs now, peering up at him curiously as the soft plant snakes its way across his pants and chest.

“Pardon me,” he attempts. “Please move away from me.”

The moss does not seem inclined to listen, as another length of it begins to wrap around his arm.

Panic is beginning to set in, when a bright purple light erupts around him. The moss squeals and retreats back to the top of the wall, and Dirthamen looks up, half expecting (or perhaps hoping) to see a tall masked woman once again.

But the face looking back at him appears strangely similar to his own. Their own hair is also long and sleek and black, their jaw square and their ears tall. But their skin is tinted distinctly purple, their eyes a bright gold rather than his own grey-blue, and most distinctly, they have two pairs of horns protruding from their head and a long tail coming out from the base of their spine.

“Well well well,” They purr “Looks like I've stumbled across a little Sleeping Beauty, hm? You're supposed to wait for me to kiss you, you know.”

Dirthamen blinks in confusion.

“No? Ok, well, that's fine we'll get there someday,” The person shrugs before they hold out a hand to help Dirthamen to his feet. “I'm Des, he/his please, and it's your pleasure to meet me,” he winks.

Dirthamen nods, slowly. “Alright. Thank you for your help Des.” he says as the other man helps him to his feet. “Do you know how to get out of this labyrinth?”

“I do.”

“Will you show me?”

Des makes a slight hissing sound through his teeth. “I can't.”

“Why not?”

“It's against the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The rules of the labyrinth, of course. No outside help, that'd be cheating.”

“But flipping stones is not?”

Des laughs at that “That must have been Deceit. And no, it's not. Shifting scenery is allowed, so long as it isn't destructive.”

“Who made these rules?”

“The Goblin Queen enforces them.”

Dirthamen nods in acceptance, but then stops with a frown. “But who made them?”

A grin spreads across violet skin, white teeth stark and sharp “Well now. Isn't that the question?”

Des still doesn't bother to answer though, as he just gestures for Dirthamen to lead the way with a small bow.

Dirthamen continues to move what he hopes is forward, Des striking up conversation as they go.

“Do you enjoy your home life?” Des asks.

Dirthamen frowns. “It is...adequate.”

“But do you enjoy it? Do you miss it, being here? Miss your family?”

He thinks about his parents. His mother and father, who are often traveling. His sisters, neither of whom he has regularly spoken to in years. His brother, who was potentially harmed at the hands of the Goblin Queen.

And he finds that being here is certainly outside of his comfort zone. Things and creatures do not behave the way they should, and the logic of the world does not always match his own. But neither did the world he is from, and though he thinks he should miss his family, he can not seem to muster the proper emotions.

“I...” he attempts.

Des's hand snatches the back of his collar, still coated with a thin layer of dried mud that flakes under his touch as he yanks Dirthamen back and away from the wall that has suddenly shot up in front of them.

Dirthamen swallows. “Thank you.”

“That shouldn't have happened,” Des muses. “The labyrinth isn't supposed to try to harm you...”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we're being watched. And there was something on the other side of the wall she didn't want you to find.”

Dirthamens brow crease “So if I stumble upon something she does not want me to see, she will reset the board?”

“She's just a little spooked after you ran into Ana and the others,” Des sighs. “She's conflicting with herself, and it's reflecting here. She doesn't mean you harm. She's just lost sight of what she actually wants.”

“...what does she want?”

“What does anyone want?” giggles one voice from the new opening in the labyrinth.

“What could anyone want?” giggles another.

Dirthamen turns to look at the two people, standing side by side in front of a pair of doors.

“You're not supposed to be here~” coos one, pointing a long claw like finger at Des.

“You're breaking the ruuules~”says the other, wrapping their arms around the others waist.

Or, what Dirthamen thinks is a waist.

The two of them remind him quite a lot of a pair of koi fish his mother used to keep in the backyard at one of the houses. He is not even certain if there are legs beneath the gowns they are wearing, but their skin is certainly scaled in a similar pattern, and neither has hair, aside from a long pair of whiskers drooping from their face.

Des shrugs “I'm not telling him where to go. Only how to not die.”

“Is that allowed?” Asks the one on the left.

“I'm not sure,” says the one on the right “I don't think he's ever died here before.”

“Is this one stupid then?”

“They're supposed to be clever.”

“So is this the wrong one then?”

“If it is, then his death shouldn't matter much anyways right?”

Des sighs as the two continue bickering and Dirthamens head follows them like a particularly interesting tennis match.

He elbows Dirthamen lightly, and gestures towards the doors with his head.

“Which one do we take?” Dirthamen asks. The two koi-like people snap their attention back to him, and each take a step out of the doorways.

“One of these leads to the castle in the center of the labyrinth,” one says.

“And one leads to certain death!” says the other.

“Which one is which?” Dirthamen asks.

“He can't tell you!” One shrieks, finger pointing accusingly at Des.

“And neither can we!” Laughs the other.

“Well why not?”

“It's against the rules,” Des sighs, slipping into the form of a rather fluffy cat. He plops down on the ground, tail swishing curiously behind him. “You'll have to figure this one out.”

Dirthamen stares for a moment at the elf that was not an elf, or perhaps they are a cat that is not a cat?

It is a poor decision to take things at face value here, it seems.

“I suppose I will ask some other way then,” Dirthamen says stepping towards them. Each of the pair hold up a single finger in front of them.

“You may only ask one of us,” They warn.

“One of us only lies,”

“And one of us tells the truth!”

Dirthamens brow furrows. “That is a conundrum.”

He stares at the two, trying to find any sort of difference between them. Searching for a change in their appearance or magical energies, but he can find nothing. It is as though they are the same person, speaking separately through two identical bodies.

But if one tells the truth and one only lies, and he can only ask one, it would be wise to go in with as much knowledge as he can discern.

Des sits down next to Dirthamens legs, and whispers out a soft “Be careful.”

Dirthamen considers the situation further. There is likely a question that he could ask, if he could find the proper words to ensure that he would not be tricked.

One lies, and one tells the truth. But if...

Oh, he thinks. That is the game.

He takes a step forward, and points at the both of them. “You are both liars.”

Des blinks up at him, and the fish people stare at each other, and then back to him.

“That's rude,” they accuse.

“But accurate. If one of you only told lies, and one of you told the truth, only the one who speaks the truth could say that, or else it is a lie. Since the both of you spoke this statement, using your own logic, it can not be true. If the truth teller says that one of you is a liar, and the liar says one of you tells the truth, then the liar is telling the truth which would not be following the guidelines. If the truth teller says that one of you is lying, and the liar says that one of you is telling the truth, then the both of you are lying. Since you can not both be telling the truth, you must both be lying.”

“My head hurts.” mutters Des.

But both fish people clap, faces splitting to reveal unsettlingly large teeth protruding from their mouths as two large bright lures pop out of the tops of their heads.

“Very good, very good,” says one.

“This one isn't stupid after all!” Cheers the other.

“This does still leave us with a problem,” Des points out. “Which door do we take?”

Dirthamen considers the problem.

“Which door leads to the castle?” he asks the one on the left.

She points to the door behind her.

“The one on the right, then.” Dirthamen decides.

Des hums and follows after, as Dirthamen swings open the door and steps forward.

And promptly plummets directly down a hole in the ground.

He screams, and hands reach out from the walls to slow his descent.

“What is this?” He asks as Des gracefully jumps down the hole from hand to hand.

“A relic,” Des sighs. “Another crack in the foundation it seems.”

Dirthamen swallows. “So I could die?”

“So it seems.”

“Up or down?” Rumble the walls.

Dirthamen looks to Des for advice, but he just shakes his head again, his fur ruffling with the motion. “I can't tell you which path to take, I told you that.”

“...down, I suppose?” Dirthamen says.

“He said down!” Cackles the wall approximately half a second before the hands release him. Des lets out a loud howling screech as the hand he was waiting on vanishes and he falls just behind him. Down down down they fall, through cobwebs and dust and past an old iron crate before landing on a soft pile of what Dirthamen hopes is just dirt.

The clank of a grate closing above them can be heard, and Des lets out a heavy sigh as he shifts back into an elf and lights a few motes of purple light around them.

“I suppose that was the wrong decision,” Dirthamen laments.

“There are no wrong decisions,” Des assures him. “Only different paths to take.”

“You have a very different viewpoint than my mother and father.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Des scoffs.

“You do not even know my parents.”

“And you do not know me.”

Dirthamen frowns at that, mind drifting back to earlier thoughts.

“But you seem to know me.”

“I make it my business to know all the gorgeous people around here,” Des winks.

“But other people know me too.”

It is Des's turn to frown now.

“You shouldn't pull so hard on this particular string.”

“Why? Because I could end up locked away somewhere dark and dank and far away from everything I know?” Dirthamen points out. “I do not see how this situation could be worse.”

“That is because you do not know how much worse it gets.”

Dirthamen is silent for a moment. He thinks of the people he has met, their kindnesses towards him. The way the earth moves beneath his feet and how fresh the air is.

Perhaps it could be worse, then.

But he can not help his curiosities.

“Why does the Goblin Queen want me to solve the labyrinth?”

“How would I know?” Des mutters.

“You seem to understand her better than most.”

Des sighs. “We were close, once. Before all of this started. Before she had to take on the mantle to save those she could.”

Dirthamen looks at Des curiously, scooting closer and looking up at him expectantly.

Des lets out a groan. “She's going to be very upset if she finds out I told you anything.”

“If I am involved, do I not have a right to know?”

“...Do you want to know?”

Dirthamen nods “Yes. Very much.”

“Well...”Des drawls mischievously “I suppose I am compelled to tell you then. It's in my nature.”

Des sits down beside Dirthamen, and the motes move closer, forming a circle of light around the pair. “Once upon a time,” Des explains. “There was a floating city. Several of them, in fact. And people lived in them, for many, many, many years. Things were not always good, but they were bearable, and pieces of happiness were not hard to find if you knew where to look. But when things were bad, they were awful. Most often, it was the downtrodden and lower class that bore the brunt of that awfulness. One day, they rose up against the tyrants, to take back their freedom. It was a long, bloody battle. The cities fell, and magic was all but entirely corrupted in the wake of it.”

“The Goblin Queen was a tyrant back then?”

“No. She was one of the rebels, in fact. The few rebels that survived the battle watched as the world fell down around them, and wept for all that they had lost. They had gained their long sought freedom, but each had paid their price for it. She, like so many of us, lost the person she loved most.”

“Were they a casualty?”

“No,” Des says. “He was one of the tyrants.”

Dirthamen swallows. “Did she...did she kill him?”

“She couldn't,” he sighs. “She was supposed to, but when the moment came she could not. She warned him, instead. Tried to hide him away, until it might be safe for him to come out. Even though he was far from the worst of the family of tyrants, he still had the blood of thousands on his hands. Still had crimes to atone for. Eventually he was found, and punished for those crimes. She tried to save him, argued that he could be redeemed, but...”

Dirthamen nods, slowly.

“She saved what she could. Pieces of him that she found over time. The mask he always wore, she keeps with her. You saw it before, right?”

He recalls the image of the woman, mask cracked and peeling, and nods once again.

“There are pieces of him forged into it. Lingering magics and memories. All that she could save.” Des pauses “I think a piece of her broke that day, too.”

“What did she do to the people that killed him?”

“Most of them still live in the city, actually.”

“She did not kill them?”

“No. She understood why they had to do it. She mourned him, and still does when she is alone, but she does not place blame on them when she knew too well what he was doing. By the time he was executed, he had become worn down and was susceptible to corruption from the grief of losing his family. There was very little left to save, and it was kinder to kill him. Together, with the remaining band of rebels, she took the power of his that was left, and carved out this world, where she has remained ever since.”

“That sounds exceedingly lonely,” Dirthamen whispers, pulling his legs tighter to himself.

“She's tried to ease that. She will step through worlds, when she can. Pull out those she and the others cared about before tragedy can befall them again. You remember Venavismi?”

Dirthamen recalls the elf in the cottage with the knives protruding from him and nods.

“He was about to die in a house fire when he was brought here to go through the labyrinth.”

“Did he go through?”

“Of course. All residents must finish the labyrinth before they are given their choice. That's uh, that's the prize at the end. You can choose to stay here as a goblin, or she will send you back to your home with no memory of this place or its people. Most people choose to stay, if not their first time, then one of the next. It's a nice deal, I think.”

“Being trapped for eternity does not sound like such a prize.”

“Who’s trapped?” Des points out. “No one is being kept here against their will. They are free to come and go as they please. But this place will always be safe for them, and their immortality only remains while they are here. Elsewhere, we can be killed, or die of sickness or old age if we are gone long enough to merit such a thing. Here, the magics are strong enough that it is not an issue. It is not a prison she's made; it's a home. Just...a non-conventional one.”

“So...” Dirthamen tries to reason, attempting to sort the new influx of information. “The Goblin Queen wants me to solve the labyrinth to make me a part of her home?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Why me?”

Des groans, and stands. “Weren't you paying attention?”

“I thought I had been.” Dirthamen frowns.

“You can lead a horse to water...” Des mutters before helping Dirthamen to his feet. “Well. You're partially right, I suppose. Which is more right than you were before, so I'm taking it as a win. Time to go, any longer and she'll wonder why we've stayed so long in the dark together, and there's really no way I can talk myself out of her wrath then.”

Dirthamen nods, satisfied that he has been given some sort of information, at least. For a moment, he wonders why he was chosen rather than his brother, who is normally vastly more popular than himself.

Then he thinks of what it might be like to spend an eternity with him, and answers his own question.

–

Des and Dirthamen have been gone for too long, Selene worries.

There is no chance that he has kept his mouth shut unsupervised, which means she will need to either take memories from Dirthamen early, or find some way to discredit Des in his eyes.

Neither option sounds particularly attractive.

Still...She knows which oubliette they fell down.

Perhaps she should pay another visit.

Hesitantly, she dons the mask, trying to push its cold tendrils out of her mind as she shifts down and into the tunnels.

–

Dirthamen is impressed with how well Des seems to know the tunnels. It leaves him free to wonder and contemplate more on the information given to him.

How had she risen to become a queen from a rebel, he wonders. Why was she so determined to save these people in particular?

He is so immersed in his thoughts, he almost does not see the feather in front of his foot. It whirls up as his foot comes down, floating in small circles until it lands in the lap of a hooded figure in a dark cloak sitting at the edge of the tunnel.

“Uh-oh,” Des mutters.

“What have we here?” calls a familiar voice.

“Nothing,” Des responds.

There is a pause, as the person beneath the cloak freezes.

“Nothing?” they say as they stand.

“Nothing?” they repeat, white strands of hair falling loose from beneath the hood.

“Nothing?!” she emphasizes, discarding the hood entirely, the cloak billowing slightly behind her from her anger.

“Nothing important.” Des tries to assure her.

“Des, are you helping him?”

“What? Me? Pssshh. No, of course not! That would be against the rules.”

“It would, in fact be against the rules. Rules you are not immune to, Des.”

Des swallows. “I would never.”

“It's true,” Dirthamen pipes up. “Des didn't help me at all. We just...talked.”

Selene turns to focus on Des. “And what, precisely, did you talk about?”

Des stays quiet, holding two hands up in front of his chest.

“Right,” She says, letting out a breath and lifting her right hand. “Seems like you've made enough trouble-”

“No, wait!” Dirthamen says.

Selene turns to him, pausing in her casting.

“Please, I-Des is not breaking any rules. He is-he is my friend.”

Des's face softens noticeably while Dirthamen speaks. “Please, I just do not want to do this alone. I would have died if he had not saved me.”

Selenes hand falls back down to her side, and she speaks softly “Nothing in this labyrinth should be able to kill you.”

“There are cracks in it,” Des tells her. “Something seems to be conflicted. Older things are peeking through.”

Her shoulders seem to fall slightly at that, and a piece of the masks top layer falls away, evaporating before it hits the floor.

“I see.” She says. “I will...find a way to deal with that, then. In the meantime, Des will be permitted to stay, to ensure you stay alive. However, if you help him,” Selene warns “I will take you back with me, and you will be punished. Do you understand, Des?”

Des nods “Loud and Clear.”

Selene turns to Dirthamen again. She seems stuck in place, caught between moments and possibilities of what to do next.

“Do you...like the labyrinth?” she asks him.

“Yes. Although it is very tiring.”

Selene nods, seemingly satisfied.

Through the crack in the mask, he thinks he can almost see her smiling.

“Well, that's...yes. Good. It's not supposed to be easy you know.” She takes a step towards him, and he swallows. She smells like forests and rain and nights when he used to sneak onto the rooftop to stare at the stars.

The light motes floating behind her head are creating a halo effect in her hair that is not helping him to calm down at all, either. It is very striking, and he wishes that he could see what she looked like beneath the mask.

He wishes that he were more comfortable with eye contact, that he could make it with her.

Her hands come out to touch his shirt, his collar, and she hums lightly.

“Your clothes are covered in mud,” she notes, hands moving into his hair and removing clumps of it from the back. He shivers lightly beneath her touch, fingers warm against his scalp and soothing as it trails through his hair. “Perhaps I should have let you bathe before all this...”

“You could let him bathe now,” Des teases.

She pulls her hands away and shakes her head. “He has already started. I can promise you a shower if you wish one when you arrive at the castle. In the meantime,” She unclasps the cloak from her shoulders, and lifts it onto his own. “This should help keep it from worsening.”

She smooths the material over his chest, carefully closing the white gold clasps that lay atop his collar bone. The material feels like silk over his skin, but it is weightless and airy.

“Thank you,” He tells her.

She looks up, realizing what she is doing, and he sees her now exposed throat bob.

“It is no trouble.”

She steps back again, clearing her throat as Des whispers something Dirthamen cannot make out in her ear.

She zaps him back into his feline form.

Des looks up at her, ears pressed back against his head. “You're only upset because I'm right.”

She doesn't dignify him with a response, and Dirthamen watches as she shifts into shadow and disappears once again.

The cloak around him is still warm, and smells the way she had.

He pulls it tighter to him, and continues the journey.

#Labyrinth AU #Selene lavellan #Dirthalene #Des

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hardwarevent · 7 years

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Human Nature

So I haven’t posted in a while. It’s not that things haven’t happened, but I’ve just been busy and preoccupied. I feel myself getting stronger and healthier, except for this stupid nodule thing on my face that decided to show up. Oh well. So, what's been up with me lately? Well for one thing, I went on a date last weekend. Like, an honest-to-god, met-her-on-OKCupid date. I know right? Only idk man. she was really short, pretty chubby (don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing all black for the slimming effect), and I dunno. I didn’t really feel a “click”, you know? Not a lot of shared interests. I made her laugh a few times, but I’m pretty confident that she wasn’t for me. She had never really moved out of the Fremont area, and she’s never had clams, and she was really into philosophy and physics but there really wasn’t much about her that was really exciting and engaging? I dunno. Also, she has a very similar first name to my sister. So it’s probably for the best./ Red Lobster is an okay first date site though. I mean, it wasn’t all her fault. This is the first true honest-to-god date I’ve been on, and I was totally awkward, I could feel it. I need to work through that. I also said some stuff that I probably could have filtered or thought through before I spoke. That’s alright though. It’s all about that practice. I feel okay about it, honestly. Honestly, it was just nice to go out and meet someone in that setting. So what else is up? How about my daily struggle thing I have going on? Well, it’s okay. So I’ve been reading this book on and off called How To Win Friends and Influence People. It’s this old-ass book, but they say it’s a total classic, it’ll change your life, blah blah blah and you know what, I can see it. Chapter 2 was mostly about how basically don’t be a dick to people, and people love genuine compliments, and giving them is how to get people to like you. This is because, as this book pointed out, the basest emotional desire for humans is to be considered important. I thought that through for a few seconds, the book talked it through for a few pages, and all of a sudden I felt this emotional veil lifted? Like this stupid anxiety monster that was bitching about C and how I should be feeling bad all the time got it’s mask taken off all Wizard of Oz style and as it turns out, it’s just a form of my basest human desire to be important. Like for example, part of me cherishes those pics and stuff they’ve sent me because it makes me remember when I was considered an important person in their eyes. Hell, I recently downloaded an archive of all my facebook messages and spent 2 hours writing a python program that parsed out the HTML into a readable text file so I could read through some of our old sex RP sessions for shits and giggles. It was pretty good stuff tbh. But normally, something like this would be a falcon punch in the gut as well, cuz I would be all sad that we don’t love each other anymore etc etc. But I don’t really feel that sadness anymore? Now I feel like it’s okay to feel sad about it, but wanting to be loved is just an extension of wanting to be important, and the fact is, i don’t need to be considered important to C in order to lead a happy, fulfilling life. It’s okay. I didn’t let them fufill their dream of fucking me in the ass and I should feel guilty about that? Nah son. That’s just stupid sex stuff anyway, who gives a shit. I am honestly okay. I’m fine. Like, obviously it’s still a little depressing, and I’m still a little depressed about it, but I’m kind of done being hung up on it? It’s whatever now, and I feel okay. Not numb, because I still feel an inkling of sadness, but I know things will turn out OK. I’m definitely way better than how I’ve been. I feel like now, if I read through C’s shitty id twitter full of whining about how they want to be fucked, I could pretty much shrug it off. Like oh look, a human wanting to be fucked, and thereby receiving physical pleasure and a semblance of worth and importance to another person, how original and surprising. Like, it’s not that I’m like done being a human or whatever, but I just feel more... free? Like, I acknowledged my emotions, emotions are normal, I;m just a human that wants to feel important and this makes me sad because i’m not as important anymore to this person. And that’s ok, because someday I’ll move on and be this important to someone else. You know, probably. This “humans just want to be important” thing applies to like, why we want to get paid and get money and climb a corporate ladder and order people around and how Eeeveryboooody waaants to ruuule the woooooorld. Like, it makes sense. This is the drive that separates us from the base instincts of the animals, man. I’ll keep reading that book, I can’t wait to see if I get my mind blown again like I did when I read that shit.

So, P90X right? I’m now on the rest day of Week 7. That’s 49 days done out of 90. Over halfway, baby. I’ve been okaaaaay with the diet? I could be more diligent. But most of the time I’m good. I gotta say, like, my stomach does look flatter and a little more muscular, I feel more confident, it’s definitely doing shit. I can’t wait to see how I look after the last month and a half. Maybe I’ll post a pic of my post- P90X body once I’m done (blurring out my face of course). Uhh... Also my lease is up in late May. It’s early March at the time of this writing. If I wanted to move jobs, now would definitely be the time to start looking. I’m going to start doing that I think. But yeah man. I’ve been keeping on saying I’m gonna move forward, and that’s what I’m doing. I still feel like an old asshole at 25, almost 26 years of age, like it took me long enough to get my shit together, right? But I’m doing it. Am I in the best shape of my life? I would say so, yeah. I’m the freest I’ve been relationshipwise, I have the money to travel if I want, and like 5 weeks of vacation saved up if I wanted to. Like, I got all this privilege and power. Maybe I’ll use it sometime instead of saving it for a rainy day. Ah well. I’ll try to post more often too. I know no one really reads this blog and it’s more just for me venting, but maybe years and years from now I’ll look back at this shit and be like “man I was going through some shit huh?”

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