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  • There is so much no one knows about, struggles left untold and lessons left untaught; who I am no one really seems to know about, very little to be cared for, knowledge supposed to be lost- friends lost, acquaintances drifted distances far beyond where I now roam: I'm a drifting one. I deal with it, the waves are high and the path is long- but it's how it is, and though the fight is tough, I've not fallen so far- following the currents, destinations distant but a struggling mind keeps my sail pointed proper. Pray it ends well, pray it results in something worth speaking about. I hope this isn't the end, I hope there's more to be talked about.
    There is nothing he will not do to be friends with you.
    He will show you how things are,
    He will tell you the devil behind every remark,
    And he will unmask every single smile:
    Invading all that's hallow, razing every precious thing with burning husks and swallows-
    All your thoughts and dreams and puts in place his wicked spins,
    Truth, he strings, the Lord Supreme, he doth whispered sing into your ruptured eardrums.
    All you do, thence on, is follow; follow to his tune, singest as he do,
    Joyous he strolls through every sanctum,
    Soon even victim will spur a smile, crooked though it be:
    Give it time, the fake will turn real,
    And every single thought of pain, every dusk and every rain,
    Will turn to sun and thus you go,
    From sad, depressed, and hollow-
    To much the same, but bearing wicked grin:
    You have no choice, you thus submit,
    Smile and it will end,
    If the fake will turn to truth in stride,
    Then all is real, there are no lies.
    I look upon my present self,
    Ruined visage painted by great pain spelt in crimson ink-
    Great change rendered earthquakes unfelt-
    'Erefore my own skin split beneath the quill as my surface chasmed,
    An opening fashioned of poisonous absence, induced by desired ease:
    What was within was thence released, ink delivered through the gashed seams.

    It comes from deep within, heartfelt of nature and serenely sweet.
    Peculiar of taste, with subtlest iron tinge;
    My shell bleeds, but it is through its ink that my soul's hunger freeze.
    Though my heart beats, I shan't e'er cease.
    'Tis not good for me, of this I am most aware; have known for long, never fear-
    'Tis not fine, but circumstance has lead me here.

    Naught I touch turns to gold, naught is enough for me anymore:
    A singular moment, evermore rendered in the depths of my deepest mind,
    Causing this change which, mineself, I now find in the midst.
    Sans, the roads that I'd paved changed: they're unruly.
    Every step that I trod is a hundred leagues spent in thought,
    For as great as my mind may be, and as many a thought as I can conceive,
    I know not how to become better, something not worse:
    I cannot move on, instead weathering this onslaught I, myself, hath brought.

    I'm immersed.

    My soul rendered stone,
    My heart beats to burst.
    These words I now weave,
    Forced through purest will-
    Born of a quill dripped in my own crimson spill-
    Cannot be seen by eye's gaze:
    Submerged as I am, always.

    Whether black or white, whether day or night-
    I cannot tell, for all which dwell beneath this great sea-
    Be covered red, my colour dread: my signature,
    Emblazoned upon every sentence I've ever made.
    It would be quite the sight, but I've long since closed my eyes.
    I cannot see my paper, better so: blotted in the red,

    Just like that time,
    Like all other things past that event,
    In the likeness of everything within my mind,
    It's all painted the colour of purest,
    I am tired, always tired.
    Is it even possible to have made it this far, realistically.
    Evidently so, considering.
    How tiring.
    I walked forward,
    The wind swept me back,
    Toward that pit most black,
    From whence I flee,
    The one I now see:
    It's grown so big within me.

    I wished I was free,
    Until I was drowned in endless possibility:
    Now I am lost in the sea,
    Dreaming for the day that freedom ends,
    And my mind is reined in again,
    My friend, I do not want to wander.

    Freedom breeds thoughts,
    Thoughts I never wished to come across;
    Never had I know how dark it was,
    Until I fled from them.

    Now I'm back again,
    Stuck; vehement-
    Fraught brought by precendent;
    I keep coming back again,
    To this state I wish I was never in.

    My head filled by dreams I wish I never had,
    Unfulfilment feels all the more sad,
    When what was bad kept you from becoming glad;
    Now all I do is go back,
    Back to wanting what I never had.

    I walk forward,
    The wind swept me back;
    The wind never blew,
    It never had to,
    I made it move,
    In my mind nothing ever improves,
    I will force that to be true.
    Times change, it flows;
    People change, they grow;
    We fall, we go.
    Peace of mind,
    If only for some time.

    Nothing stays, everything goes:
    Is it so bad to wish for hope.
    We deal with much,
    We handle most,
    All we wished was what was good,
    But we make do-
    We have to.
    Why do you do this endless,
    Fruitless quest: senseless test?

    Why do you continue ever infinite;
    Expecting what you never sought,
    Desiring what you never caught,
    Seeing only what was never brought?

    Joy is elusive, ever-so:
    Let go, the future is far more,
    More, more, more- freedom.
    Only free, how frightening.

    I hope you're doing doing somewhat okay at least, given what ya said in the newsletter thread.
    I hope you'll be fine lad. 👊
    I hereby declare Mal to be my oathsworn Doomknight.
    Anyone caught slipping their shoulders or spilling honeyed words at my precious Doomknight will be executed.

    - sincerely, Princess Sashina, Principality of Mooncha
    The vanishing mind,
    A death of self;

    Who am I,
    If not in good health?

    Blue like the lion;
    A sea of the sea.

    Shapes take form,
    But I cannot see;

    Let me be me,
    But who am I truly?
    It is better to distance yourself from the sea, than to drown in its encompassingness; to walk away from people than to have you ruin the relationship you have. Memory is sweet only if it is brief and beautiful: too much and you rot its worth with your wrongness. The end is in sight ever since the beginning. I must remember this.
    I dreamt of the End,
    "Help," it said to me.

    "I don't want to disappear,"
    It whispered at apogee.

    It's strange will,
    Bore a hole in me;

    "But 'the End,'
    Don't you want to be free?"
    Pain is my God,
    My Guide,
    My King.

    Pain is the measure
    That keeps me clean.

    Pain is what shepherds change,
    It is the progress that never leaves.

    I am in Pain,
    But it is good for Me.
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