Dark Betrayal

A father's love for a son is sacred. Yet why do men defile the sanctity of this bond? My father is just a man, at 19 I know that now. But in my eyes he was so much more. He was everything I wanted to be, he was everything I looked up to. So tell me now, as I sit alone in my dark room on a cold Sunday night, who was it who destroyed our bond as father and son? Him by coming into my room at 3 in the morning four years ago, or me for being so weak? I feel betrayed by my own father. How melodramatic and uncharacteristic of me. No one betrays me, because who have I ever trusted enough to be able to hurt me so badly? Still that sentence hangs in the air as I whisper it out loud. I feel betrayed by my own father. I use humour and twist the truth to hide the fact that I always cried after he left the room. I have....things in my head that need to be sorted out, and tonight this is one of them. My father has left a deep wound in my heart, and I don't know if I can ever be whole again. For once, I want to open up and talk to someone about the burdens that I carry alone, but I know that come morning the illusions will ripple back into place and I'll go back to pretending that everything is as it should be. But for tonight...let me cry for the man my father is. Let me dream about the good times I had with my father as a son, when we went out to catch a late night movie, when he came roaring down the street at 1 in the morning when I left my other dad's house in tears. I still love you, dad. Even if I've lost you as a father because of the choices you made and my inability to refuse you, I will always love you. The tears are a river of endless regrets, and suddenly I want very much to be young and in my father's arms again, to feel the warmth and comfort and security that only a dad can give.
A father's love is pure. Or at least, it should be.

Void

The world is grey and colourless, and the storm clouds hang over me as I burn the last traces of sleep from my body. I have drifted from contentment to unhappiness and back again in the span of a few days, and suddenly I no longer feel. Neither dark nor light...just somewhere in between. My eyes have begun to redden in response to the diluted sunlight that reaches me through the shuttered windows. The air is cool, and slightly damp with the promise of another thunderstorm, and I have to wonder at my detachment. Thunderstorms always gift me with limitless energy, but today I feel...normal. Empty, almost. No rush of energy from the winds that rustle through the trees, no elation from the lightning strikes that pepper the skies, no urge to run out and embrace Nature in her wild glory. My skin is beginning to crawl from the sun's heat, but in less than an hour, I will remedy that with a quick shower. The day has begun, but I feel so inwardly still that my physical self is reluctant to obey my mental commands to move, to do something, to mend the bridges that I know will break as a result of my decision last night. I don't feel sad, or anxious, or depressed, or happy. I don't feel. *wonders* Listening to the music that weaves itself into my room, I catch a whispered 'Lagrimas'. The shadows retreat as the sunlight seeps into my room, and I am oddly contemplative, calm in the face of R's silence. He has left Singapore by now, I know that without having to ask. Letting go is easy to do when one's vision is not clouded by emotion. Another task awaits me. Do I answer this call for help? Or do I watch dispassionately as another disaster unfurls before me? This...mental calmness is truly a gift. In my mind's eye, I see myself standing on a high cliff overlooking the ocean as Night descends around me, cupping me in her omnipotent palm as the winds and waters rage away. I wouldn't exactly say this mental image exudes serenity, but it does take away my mortal feelings for a while. It is a monumental feat to be able to tame my wild fires and calm me down to such a degree, and I have to wonder if perhaps I am not as condemned as I perceive myself to be. Still, these are thoughts to be shelved away for the morrow, when my soul begins to blaze with the emotions that colour humanity. For today, I shall allow myself the luxury of mental silence.
How fleeting these moments are, yet so precious to a mind relentless in the pursuit of self-discovery.

Dark Thoughts II

The weak sunlight does nothing to dispel my darkness. In my mind, the legion of spirits have begun to march towards me once more, and I am faced with the prospect of fighting them alone. It does not frighten me. Why should it? This fight is forever, and I have that long to perfect my strategy against the darkness that longs to consume me. If I fall, I will rise from the grave to continue the battle. It is a curse. Gone are the visions of heaven, where green valleys wave hello to me as the winds envelop me in their gentle embrace. I have slept during the night, but I do not feel remotely rested. How can I be, when my dreams were haunted by visions of the dead and dying? Watching the mass of humanity bustling about below makes me feel even more detached. Again, the thought ghosts through my mind: I don't belong here. I feel heavy, as though I have traded places with Atlas and the weight of the world rests on my shoulders. But therein lies my salvation. If I can feel, then I can use the gift of emotion to rise out of the abyss into which I've fallen. But right now, I am completely at home in the dark pits of hell. My eyes have begun to turn red, and I know I will need to curl up soon in the darkest corner of my castle and seek relief from the heat of the day. I have disappointed far too many people to ever be granted salvation. Perhaps it is time I accepted my curse of eternal damnation with dignity befitting my stature.
A lesser man would fall under the sheer weight of my mind.

Dark Thoughts

The silver crescent in the night skies has been drowned out by dark clouds, as dark as the thoughts that surround me unseen like a deadly flock of ravens. I don't know if I'm good enough. I've only really glanced at Yammy these past few days, just brief conversations with the ivories. The poisons are still wreaking havoc on my systems, not that I care much anymore. Perhaps there is a reason why so many people sleep during the night, when darkness holds sway over the entire country. When the sun is high in the sky, the light and warmth holds depression at bay. Well, I have been sleeping more, and still awake exhausted. I don't feel real. Have never felt real, except when I think of my perfect house with the perfect piano and the cats that I want to have. Abyssinians. My favourite breed. I feel as though I'm not supposed to be here, this isn't my time. Like it's all in my head somehow, and that I'm not really allowed to be happy. Such deep, dark thoughts on a cool, beautiful night. The world is coloured in muted shades, blacks and greys and patches of yellow where the crescent moon penetrates the clouds in a desperate attempt to bring her stolen light to Earth. Such audacity, when we all know her light is only a pale shadow to her King's solar fires. Still, I applaud her for trying, and I hope that when I have been exposed as nothing more than a mirror for another man's greatness, another man's strength of mind and complexity of spirit, a fraud, someone will give me credit for my attempts to carve out my own throne. I need someone who can see into the depths of my heart and see what it is I cannot show, hear what it is I am unable to say. Does anyone else feel that way? I need someone to give me confidence in who I am, in what I do, to tell me that I can and will be the person I strive to be. Good, clean, free of darkness and pure in every way. In my mind's eye, people are coloured not according to their skin, but according to their hearts and souls. I want to be kind to everyone, to forgive and be forgiven. To love and to be loved unconditionally, and to be great in what I do. Not just competent. I want to be good enough to stop feeling this way. Inadequacy leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Will I find redemption? Is it possible? Or maybe that's just another illusion the Fates have seeded in my mind, to further drag me down into the underworld where the rivers burn and blood runs freely. I want to be good in every way, in every field that I have chosen. How can I do that? I have frittered away years and years of mental training, and I have ignored my lessons for far too long. Is it time to accept my fate now? Or do I still have a chance, one last ditch effort to avoid the damning embrace of Hades? As I look up at the skies, I whisper Gabriel's name in vain. Grant me light, Gabriel, to fight the darkness within. The angels will not save me anymore. I have asked too much, tainted the greatest of them all by my very touch, corrupted the pure of heart, and now when I fall to my knees, I fall alone. Love is foreign to me. My love is false. I am selfish, for when others were in agony before me, I watched in quiet amusement at the fluidity of the human heart. Alas, my spirit may not be pure, but it is still housed in the shell of mortality, and I too am susceptible to the same fluidity and pain that all mortals experience. I walk the halls of shadow tonight with a heart full of sorrow and regret and pain, and yet still within me...a glimmer of light flickers. Perhaps the angels have not forsaken me yet. Even as Lucifer stakes a claim upon my immortal soul, and darkness eats away at me like a slow, ravaging disease, a tiny spark of hope in my heart makes me want to believe that I can find redemption. Do I deserve to be happy? The winds rush through the trees towards me, laughing at my folly, and I laugh with them. What the hell. I know I don't. I am the epitome of darkness. A roiling mass of blackness that will consume everything in its way, running away at the first touch of light. I feel like the bloody Yin-Yang symbol. Light and dark made incarnate in one vessel. Well...been ranting for a long time. I guess I'll go back to doing nothing and watching the shadows dance across my ceiling. I'm tired of having to fight the things I see, the man I know I can be, the things I know I can do.
I corrupt one of you, and the rest flee like cowards. Well, if I can't move heaven, I'll raise hell. *feels evil*

Psychic Realisation

Three years of loving someone so powerfully, and it took me ten seconds to fall out of it. Add me on Trevvy. J----------. Well, you know the old saying about leaving well enough alone. Being the ever-curious one, I checked out his profile. How could I resist? With half-baked notions of seeing his lopsided grin and that familiar sparkle in his eyes. So off I went to Trevvy, and typed in his username. The result? I realised he's not the boy I fell in love with. Sure, he's added on more muscle (of that I am jealous) and he looks happier. But he isn't who I'm in love with. I doubt that the boy I once would have given the world to still lingers on within the shell of the man I saw. He's gone. That one sentence reverberated through my mind, and left me feeling slightly dizzy. To quote myself from the conversation I had with Yushaa last night: "I waited THREE YEARS for CRAP?!" Ahahahaha. Oh, the funny ways of life. Well, he doesn't look crappy zactly, just that...it's not him anymore. Anyone else who sees him would probably see some cute hunk, but that's not who I want. He's a completely different person. Suddenly all the puzzling pieces fall into place. Why he refuses to meet us anymore, why he's been avoiding everyone who used to know him. He's not who he used to be, and while I know the same can be said for anyone and everyone over the course of three years, THIS is extreme to the max. The slightly nerdy and completely endearing cutie I tried to protect is gone. This man is capable of things I never would have believed ZJ was. He's J now, and the ZJ I knew is gone. Have I mentioned that? He's gone, and it feels oh-so-fucking great. You live, you learn. The sun warms my face as I type in the afterglow of dawn. A new day. And I've been liberated from one of the darkest loves I've ever experienced. Ups and downs, and now I'm back on terra firma. I feel so blissfully happy in the wake of this sudden realisation, and I feel as though I'm on fire and I can join the sun in the sky as he dances through the heavens, not caring that he will die in a matter of hours at the hands of his treacherous lunar queen. I don't care, either. Yammy is here, I'm no longer in love with J, I've rebuilt broken bridges, and suddenly it is as though I've sprouted wings and elevated myself to new heights. It makes me grin slightly as I think back on all the stupid things I've said and done for ZJ. Ah, well. *winks* At least it's funny to me now. Yushaa! Stop laughing! Hahahaha. Anyway, the world has begun to stir from its deep slumber, and I think I'll serenade the morning with Yammy. Funny how a few seconds can change the world as I know it. If I hadn't made that rare visit to Trevvy and checked him out, I never would have realised it and still continued pining away for a boy who no longer exists. Well, I wish you well, J. Don't forget protection, always be careful, don't give your all away on the first date...did I leave out anything else? Oh, yes. GOODBYE! Haha. I'm sorry. It's just funny to think that after all these years, I can finally think of you without any hint of melancholy or wistful longing. Ah, well. You can't be faulted. All those times I ignored your bad grammar, your poor grasp of the English language, and now I finally understand why we used to fight all the time. We're on completely different wavelengths, but I will still love the memories I have. *contented* How fitting that I have a new blog to mark the closing of a chapter that lasted three years. =)
Truth surrounds us unseen, and very few pierce the veil to see beyond.

Dark Seclusion

Such empty words, yet they still bring me to tears. You can always talk to me. Why do we still continue this charade? The sun is rising, I can feel the heat in the air, burning my darkness away. I will never leave you. Are they just words to you? Empty of all deeper meaning? Perhaps you are just that shallow, and I was wrong to have trusted you. I drifted in and out of sleep, fighting through a dozen nightmares all at once until I finally clawed my way back to consciousness. Dreams in which I die, dreams in which people I love leave me, unexpressed fears that torment me when I surrender all mental control to the sandman, damn him. I know my time is limited, and I know that I have every right to be afraid. My ties to the other side have not given me faith in what lies beyond. Again, the offer of closing everything off and the prospect of becoming normal enough to pass off as another face in the crowd is tempting. I find myself alone, with a gleaming obsidian instrument that soothes the ragged edges of my soul simply by being close to me. I tried seeking solace in him, but when I was faced with his concern, I froze up and slipped quietly away. The skies are glowing a light blue, dawn's chariot has touched down on this Earth. Shall I welcome it, as I welcome the inky blackness of night? For what is the difference, when one has been blinded? All is night, all is dark. Ed's coming over at noon. I have not lost all hope, not yet. If my pain would be made manifest, there would be a huge thunderstorm brewing over the city right about now. I have shunned human contact for a while now, citing a mysterious illness. Perhaps my views on seclusion will have changed after the Sun has purged my soul of all darkness, even if only for a while. True darkness lingers on, never vanquished. Maybe I am a child of darkness after all. In which case then, you would have been right. It is useless to depend on me for anything, because I will only lounge on my dark throne and watch the fallen writhe in agony before me. It is all I am fit for, a dark throne moulded out of the darkness of my own heart's blood. I truly believe I can give no more. In days to come, this blackness will recede, but for now I reign over my kingdom as my attendants Silence and Loneliness serve me unfailingly.
Give me your heart and I will give up my kingdom.

Psychic Orbit

The world spins on its axis, moving in time to its own rhythm, following an ageless orbit through the black mass of space. If we are to believe that destinies are the same, then whose orbits do we follow? Are we allowed to dictate our own paths? Or do unforeseen circumstances wrest that power out of our hands? Are we all mindless puppets for some higher power? Now isn't that thought frightening. I once read somewhere, or maybe someone told it to me, that God is like a little kid with an ant farm. That is, if he exists. If, and this is a purely hypothetical question, if our destinies are controlled by forces greater than ourselves, is it possible for us to rip through the veil and seize control? But then again, one could always argue that we were destined to attempt to control our destinies. If I move in time to my own orbit, and I pave my own path, then even if it leads me to hell I will stay the course and not falter. Yammy sits quietly behind me, adjusting to his new surroundings. I have, on a whim, placed him against the wall that makes up my corner. So tonight I have to find a new sleeping spot. Not that I will be doing much sleeping anyway. *sigh* If destinies are truly controlled by forces greater than us, then I shudder at the very thought. We are at the mercy of uncaring deities if you follow that thought-train. I felt my heart melting today, thawing out slightly before events snowballed to freeze it back in its icy cage of thorns. Regardless. My time is running out, and I have accomplished my goal. Now all that remains is to practice, and practice and practice. And in two years, hopefully I'll have everything I need to survive. And my strategy against life begins.
I'm beginning my own orbit.

Dark Illness

The moment I woke up this morning, I knew I was in trouble. A rippling wave of fire traced its way through my abdomen, intensifying whenever I moved. Now, twelve hours later, it still burns as fiercely. The pain makes me cringe whenever I have to move, and I can scarcely breathe. I know the reason. I can feel the toxins running through my system. Nausea threatens to overwhelm me. Instinctively, I find myself drifting towards the door, needing to run to escape the pain of my own body. Night has descended, and her cool touch soothes me slightly. I am dewed in sweat, and I can feel the poison wreaking havoc in me. I think a long cool shower will help. The food I've wolfed down ten minutes ago is in danger of being expelled before it can be properly digested. Being ill sucks. I have not been taking in enough fluids, and that only exacerbates the problem. Electrolyte imbalance and all that medical mumbo-jumbo the hospital kept harping on about. My body's sodium levels are through the roof, and I can scent the air thickening as I breathe it in. *cringes* I have no intention of wasting an entire night on something as trivial as unconsciousness, but the pain razoring through my body is intense enough to almost eclipse rational thought. Almost. I will fight this, as I have fought everything else. I need water to dilute the sodium in my system. Then I'll take a shower and rest. A slow migraine has begun to drill its way through my skull. That's it. No more salty foods for the next few days, and plenty of water. *curses*

Psychic Burn

I do not know if it is icy detachment or fiery heat that envelops me as the day draws to a close. For the purpose of convenience, I prefer to call it the latter. The substance that flows through my veins is no longer blood, but molten lava as my eyes redden and begin to heat up. Always a warning sign. It is when my darkest fires begin to blaze so hotly that I am at my most dangerous. Uncontrolled fires are deadly, as everyone should know. Compound that with strong winds and the breath of the devil, and you have an inferno. Tell me, how does one douse such heat that comes from within? I am aware of my heritage, the lineage that asserts my birthright as a child of fire. Still, it burns me to know that I am capable of such fiery explosions. On one hand, I am certain of my power and secure in my own ability to fight. On the other, when I have exhausted such fires and see the destruction I have wrought...there is no language detailed enough to express my pain at what I've done.
Teach me how to control my own strength, and the fires within me before I truly hurt someone.

Dark Throne

I scent danger on the wind; in my mind, I hear the screams of a hundred angels as they fall from their heavenly thrones. The stars, the moon...have been obscured by dark clouds. As darkness blankets the earth, I feel myself being swallowed up by the element that so fascinates me. My eyes have reddened, and heat emanates from my being. It is as though I am standing on tarred ground at noon. I cannot understand it. Dawn is still a good two hours away. Perhaps it is a physical response to the imminent threats that are looming on the horizon. His silence wounds me more than I can say. I have raised an entire empire from the ashes of the old one, and it continues to flourish under my watchful eye. Still more needs to be done, but I am taking one step at a time. It is Friday, and my freedom is now metered. Each day that slips past is a day lost. The legion of spirits have fallen silent before my new incarnation, in fact, it seems as though they've fled from me. Yet the throne of a ruler is an lonely one without a consort, and while I rebuild what I've razed, I secretly yearn for his warmth and affection. Two days without his touch, and I am already wilting. I have been kept busy for a few weeks, with a new project to attend to every day. I have yet to complete the admin work from last week, but I keep putting it off in favour of more mindless tasks. Dead bodies litter my castle, and I cannot find it in me to clear them out. The taint of death does not scare me, but I cannot bear to see the fragility of life. How precious, as beautiful and yet no stronger than a crystal vase. I live and breathe, and hope each day for Yammy. When he arrives, all the pain and lingering guilt that still burn unseen within my heart will be unleashed. Pandora would be at home in my mind and heart. I will unlock each and every secret within me, and allow my new piano to be the voice for my silent tears and fears. A shower of leaves rained down on me as I walked through the dark gardens earlier in the night, and I stood in silence for a while, letting the winds pluck mischievously at my clothes and hair. Cats watched me as they slunk around the dark grounds, but for once, I did not call. My mind and heart were stilled as nature promised me another thunderstorm. As I rose to the 6th floor, and unlocked my gate, another strong gust of wind whispered through the trees. I whispered a quiet goodnight to all the dancers of Night, and closed the door behind me.
I find it kinda funny,
I find it kinda sad.
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had.

Psychic Bite

I've been cutting up all my issues and problems into small, manageable bite-sized chunks. I seriously think I'm teething. There's a dull pain in my teeth, and I find myself developing an impulse to chew on everything and anything at any time of the day. *munchmunch* I swear that's the reason why my weight has blossomed so much. I've calmed down slightly, and the cool winds of the night beckon to me once more. I've drifted through most of the past week, uncaring that my freedom has suddenly become metered. 14th of December. I will no longer be a free man. Still I watch time slip past me, content to watch storms get born and lose myself in my romantic ideals and philosophies. Still, the shards of ice remain in place around me, secure guards against unwanted intrusions. This Friday, my parents are taking me out to see Yammy a final time to make sure there's nothing wrong with him. Then we're bringing him home. I saw my dad earlier in the night, and spoke to my mum on the phone in the afternoon. X has been silent, other than his previous message to me to exercise and prepare for life during my incarceration. Hmm. Oh, yeah. Earlier in the night, I was taking out the laundry. A pile of clothes in one arm, two bottles of iced water and my phone in the other. I was turning on the faucet, when my phone fell into the sink with a loud heart-stopping kerplunk! I dropped everything else instantly, grabbed my baby and hurried to dry it. The Menu button on my phone stopped working, but I worked my magic on it, and voila! One dried and fully functional phone ready to go! Messages, memories all stored and safe. I need to find a way to unlock J's messages. Something went wrong, and now I can't open his messages. An omen, perhaps? *wonders* Anyway, went over to Yushaa's place, had a blast. We played Monopoly, and I threw a tantrum after going bankrupt. Yushaa dragged me back to the table, and then she went bankrupt. Muahaha. Owed me 9, 500 buckeroos. What's that compared to my 5, 500 debt to Phoebe eh? I suddenly like Monopoly. Triggered another memory. I used to play board games with my dad and brother. Years and years ago. Back when my age was still in single digits. It's nice to recover a memory that's not traumatic, just lightly wistful. We played Carrom, and Monopoly too. My dad's an excellent Carrom player, I remember that. My other dad's more adept at intellectual puzzles. He once solved a Rubik's cube in like two minutes. Hmm. Seems all these memories are interconnected. Yeah, I think I'll stop right there before a bad one surfaces and bites me on the nose. So anyway...as I have reined in my temper and dark fires, now I will attempt to rein in my instinct to bite. I think I'll buy me a teething ring. *sighs* Four of my wisdom teeth are popping out, all at the same time at the back of my gums. Two on my upper gums, and two on the bottom. It feels uncomfortable, and I just need...to...bite.....Anyway, it's late and I should get some sleep. Nightmares have failed to trouble me recently. I feel content to let things flow as they will. Yammy may or may not come, I hardly care anymore. My dad wants me to join MDC. Perhaps, X. Perhaps. And it's off to my corner I go to.
Someday we'll know why the sky is blue. Someday we'll know why I wasn't meant for you.

Dark Fires

A slight chill descends over the island of Singapore, and the air tingles with energy: a prelude to the coming storm. I have given myself fifteen minutes to zone out before beginning my day. First stop: Yushaa's house. I have conquered the wild beast within Cherry, and now she bows down before me in fear. She actually shakes in fright whenever she sees me coming. *feels evil* That is how it should be. My dark fires have returned in full force, and suddenly I am unafraid of anything and anyone. Something from deep inside me is reaching out for the storm, and I think I've lazed enough of the morning away. It is now 12:30pm, and the sun cannot burn me today, not while my own fires shield me from such heat, and not when the black clouds above me whisper their own promises of protection and empowerment. There is something truly empowering about watching the forces of nature unfolding before my own mortal eyes. It is a privilege, one I will take full advantage of. I'll leave the house soon, and it will feel good to have something as beautiful as the thunderstorm to distract me while I fulfill my duties for the day. I love lightning, I love storms. It is a fantasy of mine to be standing atop a cliff overlooking the sea while a thunderstorm breaks out over me. The roaring waves sing in harmony with the rumbling thunder, and the ousting winds struggle for dominance with the lashing drops of rain. The chill will make one appreciate the warmth of life even more. I think I've scorched J with my words, but his silence means nothing to me anymore. I feel terribly dark and uncontrolled as the minutes tick by quietly. The chains of conformity have never managed to bind me. The clouds continue to gather overhead, as I rein in the black fires within me. For now.
Unleash your wrath upon this earth.

Psychic Changes

There are a few changes that I have begun to make. I have been subtly pressuring them for Yammy's arrival. I have abandoned my traditional nightly rituals of stargazing, dreaming of romantic ideals and weaving illusions that shatter into dust at the slightest touch. I have intensified my focus on my goals, and suddenly I can play the darkest and most complex melodies just by closing my eyes and concentrating. Effortless. I can do this, easy. I have picked up my pen, and begun writing once more. Deep, dark stories of the eternal search for redemption. I have come to a decision regarding my own tragic love. On the 21st of December, I will complete what I set out to do three years ago. J, I don't want them anymore. My senses have been sharpened by my lack of emotion, and suddenly I know intuitively what needs to be done. I have thrown the two flutes away, turning my back on everything that they stand for, and the only thing I am pursuing right now is for my piano to be settled where it belongs, in my room where I can live out the rest of my existence the way I was born to. The rigours of life have tired me greatly, and now I wish to recede into the shadows once more. The light stands guard over me, sentries against the darkness that threatens to consume me. I laugh quietly to myself, knowing it only infuriates the swirls of black that lurk in the corners of this empty castle. I will retire for the night, having spent a great portion of it on light-hearted endeavours. In the months to come, there will be many who will label me as cruel, or cold, or heartless. Have it your way, then. I have surrounded myself with a layer of sharp icy blades, so if you know what's good for you...keep your distance. I won't pull any punches, nothing will be held back anymore. I'm tired of constantly reining in the fiery darkness within me. If you get in my way, I can and I will blast you to smithereens. Darling, this song's for you.
When you first left me I was wanting more
But you were fucking that girl next door, what'd you do that for
When you first left me I didn't know what to say
I never been on my own that way, just sat by myself all day
I was so lost back then
But with a little help from my friends
I found a light in the tunnel at the end
Now you're calling me up on the phone
So you can have a little whine and a moan
And it's only because you're feeling alone
At first when I see you cry,yeah it makes me smile, yeah it makes my smile
At worst I feel bad for a while,but then I just smile I go ahead and smile
Whenever you see me you say that you want me back
And I tell you it don't mean jack, no it don't mean jack
I couldn't stop laughing, no I just could help myself
See you messed up my mental health I was quite unwell
I was so lost back then
But with a little help from my friends
I found a light in the tunnel at the end
Now you're calling me up on the phone
So you can have a little whine and a moan
And it's only because you're feeling alone
At first when I see you cry,yeah it makes me smile, yeah it makes my smile
At worst I feel bad for a while,but then I just smile I go ahead and smile

Dark Rebirth

I unleashed a lethal firestorm over my entire kingdom, scorching everything to cinders before walking into the heart of the inferno I had summoned forth. As the fires consumed me, I knew I would rise once more from the ashes, as the legendary phoenix rises from its funeral pyre. And I have.
It took me a few days to muster up the courage to tame my mind and recreate what I've burned away, and new threads shuttle back and forth over the weaving of my life. Each new incarnation is stronger and hardier than the last, but there are drawbacks. Phoenixes are creatures of fire, but I think there is a dark side to everything. Every time I rise from the ashes of death, I become colder and sharper, a dark phoenix if ever there was one. It is only fitting therefore, that I label my new blog as such, while keeping the memory of the old one alive. It served me well for two years. I have chosen to name my new blog Illucis, an amalgamation of the Latin words Illuminare and Lucis. The old one was Obscurans, marking the darkest period in my life. A life without the things I treasured and loved. That will change, as I have.
The sun has risen, and the fires within me surge up to greet the heat of the new day. I have buried the shadows of my past once more, and when they rise up to destroy me again, I will voluntarily hurl myself into a fiery grave, secure in the knowledge that I will be reborn from such deaths. Nothing can harm me now, not while my fires are young and burn with fierce passion. Such intensity keeps pain at bay, for the darkness inherent within me has yet to surface. It will make its presence known later when the sun dies and the moon usurps his throne up in the heavens. Then the dark fires will flood my veins and I am free to rebuild my empire from everything that I have destroyed. For now, I am content to let the sun's golden beams warm me. I have been reborn, into a new incarnation, and while I am in essence still the same, I am not the same person I was a few weeks ago, before Azrael transformed me. So hurrah and all that, I am back: faster, stronger, and wiser.
Some fires are eternal, J.