--

:: 2004 5 October :: 11.44 pm

i'm killing you, �, i'm killing you badly.
good.

[and i can still feel the weight of that shroud...]

beatrice speaks up, good, letting us know who we are and why we're letting these words infiltrate us, these metus utterings. the fire before her burns with the light of echoes, of echo, of lepidoptera, and she wants us all to feel the freedom and life she's living. one of these days, one of these days.
give me life, give me pain, give me myself again.
oh, GOD, one of these days.

:: 2004 4 October :: 11.55 pm
:: Music: () 03 [untitled track]

keesha is becoming something different now; something peaceful, something heart-settling. her head lifts up high and she knows there's a road ahead that hasn't been trodden before and it's only lit, it's only lit for her. she clasps her hands in hope, a soft prayer to constance, perhaps. as usual, there is a smile on her face.
mica is taking the place keesha once had, with a few alterations, of course. so she no longer has to worry about leaving unattended territory, about needing to fill too many spaces with too little self.
today, the ghost metus infiltrated rek and there was a possession, a whisper, over and over. a soft torturous question. but now, now we don't want to think of that. suzy takes in a breath. she has stopped crying for the last time in these last 24 hours, since the dreamscaper let loose her sky. close your eyes and listen and let constance be your pillow in near-sleep, that trancelike state of the edge of dreaming, the edge of wake. oh god, crying all day; hearing that question with such a possessed rek, knife in hand, arron shreiking, his eyes cold as ice, walking backwards to this same sound that frees us now; but now she is almost near to crying not from that again, but from the releif that keesha is back again without the slightest resistance on rek's part. metus has left her, we hope for the night. we hope. we hope. that is what we have and that is what keesha embraces and that is what keesha is made of, her eyes filled with it, blanking themselves out from it like she has not been taking her medication, but she has and this is only joy, only that grin still on her face, only a feeling of contentment to those who are near her and witness her and witness her wings and influence.
please, all we want is peace within us.
[and then beatrice has her little words there, but she's drowned out by the angel-screams keesha and constance and arron let out and take in and let out and take in. the day began with fog and the screams of angels of pain-memory, and the day ends with clarity and the screams of angels in future-hope.]

:: 2004 4 October :: 7.23 pm

keep on asking the same question over and over.

2 nones | --

:: 2004 3 October :: 9.27 pm

you'll have to trust it
maybe not from these sources

trust+truth .or;: trust vs. truth.

a sleeping mica against her chest, hand over her mouth, breathing in subira, warmed by her shroud.
be quiet
open mouths are trying to sleep

:: 2004 2 October :: 11.49 pm

i keep thinking about boarding up das herz and moving on and leaving this as grey behind, putting my little demons back into meaninglessness, living life like mica and not caring and shutting myself off maybe but at the same time turning myself on to new people and new things and distant goals. about making this art-venting special and keeping it special by doing something else with my life. but, if i ever do that, i can't do it right now. because as long as i'm in that room where beatrice is trapped and still yet quiet, stifled by subira, as long as the apathetic one lets loose her shroud flowing behind her, i ____ ______ __ _____ ___ _____.
cannot fill in in the blanks.

:: 2004 1 October :: 1.29 pm
:: Music: tori amos - the waitress

I can't believe this violence in mind
I want to kill this killing wish
They're too many stars and not enough sky
But I believe in peace
I believe in peace, Bitch.

dead now
ghost later

:: 2004 30 September :: 9.36 pm

the things we learn, the little bits that make up our existence.
mathematics, laws of science, relations with people, the things we like and dislike
we aren't ourselves
we are this, we are that
[composed of lepidoptera]
if these pieces fall away, what is left?
if i lose these moths with time, forget everything that made me myself, is there a core remaining?
or is that just madness...? [giving in to metus?]
madness in core>moves outward into the lepidoptera which make up the further>distribution and lessening underneath the mask>varied reactions resulting outwards beyond mask/shell
what i wonder is -- are there too few lepidoptera nowadays? thus the madness lets out stronger? i find myself looking around and i don't see anyone else with as much madness letting out as i do. perhaps i just have a weak mask/shell. [and not enough lepidoptera.]
pish, posh. enough of lazeyka's essence.

:: 2004 29 September :: 11.07 pm

metus-156-phasma phasmatis
she lingers.
she is as her name implies.
she is a long-time essence, put into form due to the workings of both constance and the dreamscaper [thus why she bears similar markings to constance].
she is.... uncomfortable to be around.
she is easy to fear, she is very strong, and she is hard to fight, very very hard to fight.
in fact, she usually wins, and has been winning over rek for a long time.
her right eye is blind, blind, blind. her right hand is gone, severed at the wrist.
she is ursa and lupus.
she is strong.
she is phantasmic, she leaves traces of herself behind.
she is who [unconsciously] rek derived her claws from; on her, they are almost always there.
her being in reality, her realness, is vague. she is only half here. she lurks in most corners of das herz.
now that she has been made as herself, it may be easier to identify her. to at least begin to fight her, to reject her, to at least argue that she should not control all that she does.
she shows off her scars, showing, telling to others their origins. their self-inflicted origins. and persuades the lepidoptera to turn away.
she is half-dream-essence; she is ghost.
[she won today, again]

and she is the lock-maker.

:: 2004 29 September :: 6.40 pm

dreams & possibilities & omens & assumptions & the fear, the fear of being seen, the fear of being uncovered
she said, the spider said, with a rain of dead moths overhead, 'you think you've been hiding from me, you think i don't know you exist? all this time you've been watching me, i've been watching you back. silently. i can see inside you.'
and she found me
she had found me
then i woke up.

but now i am awake
and there is a subtle hint, something i could not ignore, but is so little in possibility yet still possible...
she can still see through/in me.

:: 2004 29 September :: 5.58 pm

what's wrong
show me you are worthy of this
so we need to have them be worthy, now?
it's not you
but it is you
let's not dredge up the past NOW.
fucking isolationist.
but she's making us better
there's nothing better about being solitary
there is everything better about being solitary
NO VAPIDITY NOW. no. vapid screams
i'm sorry
fuck you FUCK YOU DON'T FUCKING GIVE IN. NO. walk away now. walk away NOW NOW
NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW
DON'TFUCKING MOVE
DON'T FUCKING
MOVE
THAT
DON'T
GO THERE
but there's
such distance here
there's a way, come on
NO I WON'T
but we need this
NO WE DON'T
but we... NEED this....
then why did you let this happen in the first place?
I WASN'T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING. wasn't paying attention. didn't care or got distracted or thought it would stay the same or or or
all the same fucking excuses. always the same excuses. you need this just as much as we do. don't pull away now.
but i can't do this..! we can't do this... we have to stay ourselves.... who knows what change could happen.....
are you afraid of change?
i am not afraid! i am...
...afraid.
it's NOT fear! it's not..!
[is she dead?]

did she plummet? did the lepidoptera catch her? restrain yourself, keep these chains on. [it's all clear now]. is she dead? can you tell? or is this just rek now?
who is speaking?
myself, constance
then tell us. is she dead?
that is what i am asking you....
...why doesn't anyone know?
she can't get rid of her physical self...
... but she can lose her mind, and rek can take its place.
and what happens if that happens, thou with all answers...?
then keesha's place is in doubt, zvekh will try and rear his head even more, and there will be so much work for me to do...
she wants to say she's dead. she wants to win. if she wins, zvekh will die, of course, with mitsene.
she can never die, though.
she can never die...?

[where am i....?]
[subira]
[subira]
[lazeyka depends on you.]
and you know this is without justice and without reason, this banning of zvekh, his words, his influence. his laughter.
so who's going to open the mouth of the vessel and let lazeyka win?

............i
i'm scared
there... i said it...
[a lepidoptera lives]
even though i know it's not right, you will still try to make her pull away. nothing i can say can keep you from this. would this be happiness? is that what you're afraid of? is it the pain after wards? the low after the high? the crying at night? the regret, the woes of arron years and years and YEARS after?
how much longer are you going to deny us of this?
how much longer are you going to win?
faced with regret...
....faced with this now, the conflict that happens now, based on the initial reaction....
....i sadly doubt we can pull her down.

rosewen is dead
she's really, really dead
she's really, really, lazeyka's pronounced her unressurrectably dead
and i actually regret killing her.
fuck.
anything would have been better than zvekh.

:: 2004 28 September :: 5.38 pm

should dissolve.

see, there's still lines here. there's still a voice-over narration and there's still a mirror to get through and the lepidoptera still come through the atmosphere from somewhere. no matter that constance claims them as her messengers; they were only that when they broke through, and before they were unknown, on their own, in their own oblivious. i am still having these thoughts.
particles, lepidopteric selves, diffuse through the solid-membrane looking-glass; and backwards rising-out reaching-out: rek grabs a wrist, a star-enblazened indigo-twilight-sunset&dawn wrist. the rising and the falling.
it is a wonder, now, who will pull the other through and who will succeed; or if they will stay static like this for who knows how long. multiple selves in multiple instances. [reminder that this is not reality as reality is, it is reality as it is not.] fantasmas ~~ shells remain, remnants of a critical stage, locked under constance's rule, a freeze/freize.
there is a split and a balance to be made and both sides of the mirror have to be even. this is the judgement of the stars, and there is no fighting this.

[& the lepidoptera - echoes incarnate]

:: 2004 27 September :: 12.13 pm
:: Music: tori amos & bt - blue skies

and somehow, somehow, someway, keesha manages to worm herself into things.... not even that; not said like that. no, it's just that when there's darkness, she's there, somehow, the light that makes the darkness by contrast -- what casts the shadow. and though so many in der herz live in the shadow, she only stands on the edge. she revels in night just as she revels in day. manages to do everything with a grin on her face.
the sun comes out
blue skies
morning

how we know
through the looking glass
the one we'd be nothing without.
[lazeyki: we'd be nothing without each other, just the same.]

:: 2004 26 September :: 1.05 pm

all's quiet on the western [eastern] front.

:: 2004 23 September :: 11.49 pm
:: Music: silverchair - steam will rise

there's a gun and several options here. there's tearing off the locks and no shit held back. there's the glass bottle and suzy's open mouth. there's always the splitting into bloody reality and worlds come crashing down.
there's rek, a held breath.
there's lazeyka, eyes closed in impatience.

Refrain, confess
Contain, repress
Pretend I'm dead.
Replace yourself
With what you have
Your substitute.
Only wanted a piece of myself.
Steam will rise
Esteem will rise.

for some reason, the tracks are erased when we look backwards, and though arron is perplexed, he does not complain. no complaints at all. finally, i can hear this without feeling that.

:: 2004 22 September :: 4.12 pm

lazeyka, at least while he was working as a noardish scientist, saw things as they were in scientific reality -- atoms, molecules, cells, built up; the illusion of sight with light; the true forms of the world as one supposes it to be without the poetry it is given. the sky is not blue, it is the ever so slight angle of the sun in the vapor of the atmosphere; the very slight blue surrounds us, and only in the sky can it layer enough to be seen.
daishou, on the other hand, sees the rounded edges, the wholeness of things as they are, the simplicity of Being and everything Being as it Is. no matter who explains it or tries to explain it, it will still remain the same. a tree is a tree, whether or not you know what chemical equation occurs in the chlorophyll keeping it alive. it still dies, after all.

:: 2004 21 September :: 9.33 pm

he's saying, he says, 'see things as they are, not how you want them to be.'

[and � is rambling on]
"i'm stumbling on these footsteps and she's paving the damn road, sinking her feet in them, leaving marks that i trip over. she won't turn around and see me because she does not know i am there, and if she does, she wouldn't much care anyway. or if she did care, there would be harshness to deal with. so i keep myself quiet and i just watch, because maybe i can learn something about paving my own path."

:: 2004 20 September :: 11.29 pm

and � won't stop screaming
and arron won't look back
and rek won't lighten up
and suzy won't get stronger
and beatrice won't learn
and constance won't come down
and lazeyka won't stop whispering
and i
my
mouth
when it opens
nothing comes out
though i lift my chin, nothing is released
not in this reality
not in real reality
not in distance.

arron hates the stars. knowing it's looking at the past.

yet lazeyka knows
stars are the only part of the past that you can see that doesn't hurt.

:: 2004 20 September :: 8.54 pm

there's a little something here called

:: 2004 17 September :: 1.51 pm

//hitori ni natte hajimete
wakaru koto ga ookute.\\

telnnexir [telneksir] -- telkicere -- 'tel nex eer' vs 'tel keh seer'. ie, a certain constellation. a rule-breaking youth, who still has not returned from sailabout. his family is strange -- above-average in intelligence, but they are more different from the rest of their tribe than with just that. stationed on bedait... his is the family of saildancers, as well, for another tribe [as in, not ohutzl]. one of the most talented families out there... who have odd genes. shall i say, verge of insanity runs in the family. his mother... was very white [close to albino]. she actually was an incarnation of constance; she did not realize who she was for many years until she started beleiving her son would never return from sailabout, at which point she went mad [mostly due to the stress of constance being pent up inside her, the inability to live a free life due to family and the regret of returning from sailabout when she could have been free; as well, knowing the one person who lived out freedom for her - tannek - would not return to tell her what it was like].
most on sailabout return within a year , two at the most [for their tribe]; it took five years before tennek [nickname of telnexir] returned. he left six months later, and returns in sparratic amounts of time. no one knows when he will arrive or when he will leave, or if either is his last time. no one knows what to make of this, either, but his family manages to accomodate when he is there.
as for tennek himself... in markings, he is almost a miracle. though his mother was white and his father merely a darker brown, he is almost entirely black, with brownish 'underneath' and three spots on his back which mirror orion's back, giving to his name. the irises of his eyes are a light blue, extremely rare in this species.. especially for someone with such dark markings. his hair, as well, is light. most have dark brown, regular brown at the lightest; his is a reddish brown.
personality-wise, he is energetic and quirky. hates being restrained and finds it hilarious to offend the easily offended. loves sailing, as well, for the freedom it gives him. sailed alongside kenni and mantra [not in the same ship, but the same fleet]; was able to reach captain status fairly quickly because of his being from bedait -- their reputation for knowing ships is world-renown.
while sailing alone near tefed, he ended docking in the same town as veratrix did; they met in a bar. [veratrix had no objection to going into one alone merely for being female; the strength and physical structure of bedaitans is very similar between genders.]
veratrix says something witty to another person; attracts the attention of tennek, who follows her out of the bar to talk to her. after a bit they find out they're both headed to tefed [well, not really -- veratrix was, tennek just said he was because he didn't have anywhere else he had to go at the time] etc. etc. etc. they hit it off and end up running into each other again in tefed [mostly because of tennek].
blahblahblah. he is barely in existence, but he doesn't seem to like keeping quiet about his past.

:: 2004 16 September :: 11.12 am

no matter how much lazeyka wants � to listen to subira, she won't. she's still going at it, even underneath.