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minervasolo"There's no poetry between us," said the paper to the pen, "and all I get for my troubles is the ink beneath my skin."
Song quote, from an artist listed as 'some guy' on my MP3. Which is only marginally elss descriptive than 'depressing guy', the artist before him. This is what I get for borrowing my sister's CDs ^_^ If you know teh artist (or song!) let me know?
Postatem obscuri lateris nescitis.
Which Weird Latin Phrase Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
More Bliss because I've got nothing better to do and the backpain from bad posture isn't too bad and my finger is only slightly hot and numb from threatening RSI.
I'm with three others who have recently been found, sitting in the back of James's car on our way to the Seminary. You could walk, if you wanted to, and I know that's how James does it usually. Our presence disturbs normality like that. Heh.
We're practising not thinking at each other. In theory.
I am drawing the journey in my diary, and a boy is looking out of the window, and a girl is sleeping, and another boy is thinking about his full bladder. James has to stop to let us out before long. He knew to wake the girl as well. I wonder how long he's been looking after people like us.
None of us want to get back in the car. We can see the Seminary, tucked further up the crevice we were chasing. An old monastry. Beautiful, in the usual austere way. Empty.
You're beginning to freak out. I'll never understand why you freak out so much about being alone in your own head. I mean, listen to yourself, boy! You do nothing but whine about how you're not alone. Ooh, I have Nazis in my head! And sociopaths! And gorgeous albino would-have-been-an-actress-if-I-hadn't-dropped-dead girls!
Okay, so yes, mountains, miles from anywhere, bunch of dead people up ahead. But really, the Seekers' Annexe was only just back there. That guy really should have gone before he left.
Look, are you going to stop freaking now? Your James bloke is giving us odd looks. He's totally telepathic, no matter what he says. Bet he's like you, though, different. No one believes he's telepathic. Or maybe he's not. Maybe he's something else. Perhaps he sees auras. Or feels other people's feelings. Or can see the future. Or
I'm sitting in the car like Sunday would have sat. We fell asleep. I think someone must have put us to sleep. Everyone else is doubting him now. I don't know what Sunday thought, but I guess she doesn't have the discipline I do. James has insane discipline. Either that or he doesn't think. He's been giving me odd looks. I think he picked up on Sunday too.
He's dropping us back at the Annexe before he begins his investigation. I never wanted to go there in the first place, so it's okay with - I want to go and see what happened! - me. I've tried drawing this in my diary, but I can't get the feeling down right. It makes me want to - hey, draw me! Draw me sexy! - leave the whole page blank. I sketch an outline of a body, with no features. It's closer. Will I remember what it means?
I must have fallen asleep again. I dreamt about James. Sunday watched.
I want to touch someone. God, it's terrifying me. I want to touch someone so badly. I want to prove to myself I'm not the only person in the world, and these aren't just voices in my head. I'm locked in my room. They locked the door before I woke up. I'm not used to wanting to touch people. I used to other people wanting me to touch them.
I want to touch you. I can't touch any one now. Go back to sleep.
I never wanted Sunday like that. Why am I thinking about Sunday? I suppose I associate her with sex, and touching. Not necessarily sexy touching. Just too-cold-not-to touching. Sunday wasn't sexy. She was all legs and - huge - no breasts and a little - wide - crosseyed. The end of her - dreadlocks - rat tails were pink as a result of a - brillaint idea - bad idea long grown out. Even if she had been able to get enough to eat, she'd never have had the body she wanted.
No, I suppose not. Dying will do that. But here, I can look however I want.
Did I start it?
Start what?
The Bliss. Was it my fault?
Nah, you were miles away. Stop worrying.
I mean, I was miles away, but I'm still a telepath. Perhaps I projected. And the Seminary. That could easily have been my fault. We're close, here. I know I keep dreaming. And I can't not think.
Bet two of those oh so chaste telepaths just got randy, is all. The price was paid.
Everyone knows I'm immune to Bliss, somehow.
Yeah. That's just weird. You're fucked in the head, my friend.
Maybe they locked the door because it was my fault. Oh god, what if I've killed them all? With my dream, what if I pushed them all into Bliss?
They wouldn't be dead yet. You don't die from Bliss, you die from starvation.
Starvation. What?
You Die From Starvation.
Die from starvation... But you can't take Bliss back anyway. Once people have it, it's just a matter of time. You have to run. I have to run. I have to get out of here. Even if I haven't infected them yet, I know I will soon.
Maybe it's dehydration. I think that hits first. But you were there yesterday, Geist. Stop worrying about the people in the Annexe for a second and think!
Think I need to get out of here.
Days. Think.
It could be days before I reach civilisation again.
Diary. Diary. Diary. Diary.
I should draw this. I'll need to remember, in case when they die I start absorbing them too.
You know, that outline looks li
Thank you! Right. This way, Geist's body. Come on. Now, what do we have here? Any pins? Any needles? Any oh so handy makeshift lockpicking tools?
Eh, kicking it works. Onwards!
Let's think. James, if he hasn't already left. Just got to make sure we get our message across before he tries to bring you back.
Ooh, it's that girl. Hello, girl!
Right, James. Come on, girl.
"Geist? Are you..." she frowns at me.
"Nope! I'm Sunday Morning. I have an important message for James."
"Do you know why they locked us up?"
"All of us? Really? Geist thought it was because of sex dreams. About James." I giggle.
"Geist..." Yes, girl, because it's such a huge surprise.
"Yeah. Come on, girl! We've got to speak to James."
I like holding hands.
"What do you need to tell him?" she asks.
"Geist thought everyone died of Bliss, but we were there yesterday and everyone was fine. Bliss doesn't kill you, starvation does. Or dehydration. Or exhaustion. I wonder how long exhaustion would take?"
"You mean, murder?"
Murder? Wait, where am I?
"Murder?"
"Geist?"
"Who let me out of my room?"
"Sunday Morning. You know, you really should ask someone to take those remnants out of your head. I didn't have any, but Bert had his mother and he kept thinking he was a woman."
"I like Sunday! What was she telling you?"
"He thinks all the telepaths were murdered."
"Hey! 'She', thank you very much."
"... Sunday?"
"Yeah. Sorry, my mind wandered for a moment there."
"Geist had control."
"Same thing. You coming?"
"James has already left, you know."
"So we find someone else. It's not hard."
"You're not a telepath, are you?"
"No, not really. I think I might have a bit of Geist's, if that's any help."
"Everyone's gone. There's just us untrained telepaths left."
That'll do for now, I suppose. I need to go and attack tenses. I prefer present for first person, but past is easier in general. I have past in the last part, and present in this.
Song quote, from an artist listed as 'some guy' on my MP3. Which is only marginally elss descriptive than 'depressing guy', the artist before him. This is what I get for borrowing my sister's CDs ^_^ If you know teh artist (or song!) let me know?
Postatem obscuri lateris nescitis.
Which Weird Latin Phrase Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
More Bliss because I've got nothing better to do and the backpain from bad posture isn't too bad and my finger is only slightly hot and numb from threatening RSI.
I'm with three others who have recently been found, sitting in the back of James's car on our way to the Seminary. You could walk, if you wanted to, and I know that's how James does it usually. Our presence disturbs normality like that. Heh.
We're practising not thinking at each other. In theory.
I am drawing the journey in my diary, and a boy is looking out of the window, and a girl is sleeping, and another boy is thinking about his full bladder. James has to stop to let us out before long. He knew to wake the girl as well. I wonder how long he's been looking after people like us.
None of us want to get back in the car. We can see the Seminary, tucked further up the crevice we were chasing. An old monastry. Beautiful, in the usual austere way. Empty.
You're beginning to freak out. I'll never understand why you freak out so much about being alone in your own head. I mean, listen to yourself, boy! You do nothing but whine about how you're not alone. Ooh, I have Nazis in my head! And sociopaths! And gorgeous albino would-have-been-an-actress-if-I-hadn't-dropped-dead girls!
Okay, so yes, mountains, miles from anywhere, bunch of dead people up ahead. But really, the Seekers' Annexe was only just back there. That guy really should have gone before he left.
Look, are you going to stop freaking now? Your James bloke is giving us odd looks. He's totally telepathic, no matter what he says. Bet he's like you, though, different. No one believes he's telepathic. Or maybe he's not. Maybe he's something else. Perhaps he sees auras. Or feels other people's feelings. Or can see the future. Or
I'm sitting in the car like Sunday would have sat. We fell asleep. I think someone must have put us to sleep. Everyone else is doubting him now. I don't know what Sunday thought, but I guess she doesn't have the discipline I do. James has insane discipline. Either that or he doesn't think. He's been giving me odd looks. I think he picked up on Sunday too.
He's dropping us back at the Annexe before he begins his investigation. I never wanted to go there in the first place, so it's okay with - I want to go and see what happened! - me. I've tried drawing this in my diary, but I can't get the feeling down right. It makes me want to - hey, draw me! Draw me sexy! - leave the whole page blank. I sketch an outline of a body, with no features. It's closer. Will I remember what it means?
I must have fallen asleep again. I dreamt about James. Sunday watched.
I want to touch someone. God, it's terrifying me. I want to touch someone so badly. I want to prove to myself I'm not the only person in the world, and these aren't just voices in my head. I'm locked in my room. They locked the door before I woke up. I'm not used to wanting to touch people. I used to other people wanting me to touch them.
I want to touch you. I can't touch any one now. Go back to sleep.
I never wanted Sunday like that. Why am I thinking about Sunday? I suppose I associate her with sex, and touching. Not necessarily sexy touching. Just too-cold-not-to touching. Sunday wasn't sexy. She was all legs and - huge - no breasts and a little - wide - crosseyed. The end of her - dreadlocks - rat tails were pink as a result of a - brillaint idea - bad idea long grown out. Even if she had been able to get enough to eat, she'd never have had the body she wanted.
No, I suppose not. Dying will do that. But here, I can look however I want.
Did I start it?
Start what?
The Bliss. Was it my fault?
Nah, you were miles away. Stop worrying.
I mean, I was miles away, but I'm still a telepath. Perhaps I projected. And the Seminary. That could easily have been my fault. We're close, here. I know I keep dreaming. And I can't not think.
Bet two of those oh so chaste telepaths just got randy, is all. The price was paid.
Everyone knows I'm immune to Bliss, somehow.
Yeah. That's just weird. You're fucked in the head, my friend.
Maybe they locked the door because it was my fault. Oh god, what if I've killed them all? With my dream, what if I pushed them all into Bliss?
They wouldn't be dead yet. You don't die from Bliss, you die from starvation.
Starvation. What?
You Die From Starvation.
Die from starvation... But you can't take Bliss back anyway. Once people have it, it's just a matter of time. You have to run. I have to run. I have to get out of here. Even if I haven't infected them yet, I know I will soon.
Maybe it's dehydration. I think that hits first. But you were there yesterday, Geist. Stop worrying about the people in the Annexe for a second and think!
Think I need to get out of here.
Days. Think.
It could be days before I reach civilisation again.
Diary. Diary. Diary. Diary.
I should draw this. I'll need to remember, in case when they die I start absorbing them too.
You know, that outline looks li
Thank you! Right. This way, Geist's body. Come on. Now, what do we have here? Any pins? Any needles? Any oh so handy makeshift lockpicking tools?
Eh, kicking it works. Onwards!
Let's think. James, if he hasn't already left. Just got to make sure we get our message across before he tries to bring you back.
Ooh, it's that girl. Hello, girl!
Right, James. Come on, girl.
"Geist? Are you..." she frowns at me.
"Nope! I'm Sunday Morning. I have an important message for James."
"Do you know why they locked us up?"
"All of us? Really? Geist thought it was because of sex dreams. About James." I giggle.
"Geist..." Yes, girl, because it's such a huge surprise.
"Yeah. Come on, girl! We've got to speak to James."
I like holding hands.
"What do you need to tell him?" she asks.
"Geist thought everyone died of Bliss, but we were there yesterday and everyone was fine. Bliss doesn't kill you, starvation does. Or dehydration. Or exhaustion. I wonder how long exhaustion would take?"
"You mean, murder?"
Murder? Wait, where am I?
"Murder?"
"Geist?"
"Who let me out of my room?"
"Sunday Morning. You know, you really should ask someone to take those remnants out of your head. I didn't have any, but Bert had his mother and he kept thinking he was a woman."
"I like Sunday! What was she telling you?"
"He thinks all the telepaths were murdered."
"Hey! 'She', thank you very much."
"... Sunday?"
"Yeah. Sorry, my mind wandered for a moment there."
"Geist had control."
"Same thing. You coming?"
"James has already left, you know."
"So we find someone else. It's not hard."
"You're not a telepath, are you?"
"No, not really. I think I might have a bit of Geist's, if that's any help."
"Everyone's gone. There's just us untrained telepaths left."
That'll do for now, I suppose. I need to go and attack tenses. I prefer present for first person, but past is easier in general. I have past in the last part, and present in this.
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Date: 5/12/04 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 5/12/04 04:09 am (UTC)