LetFearReign's blog: "Me + Creative = later"

It's all right, mother. It's almost over. I'm close. So very close. How long have we struggled? How long have we waited? Too long, I know. But it's almost over. I promise. killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim mommy mommy as you lie the dark man comes and makes you die my daddy's hands are red with guilt because he killed the life we built I hate it! All this lying, all this pretending! Sithis and the Five Tenets be damned! How long do I have to live by their rules? How long before I get my chance? I saw Lucien Lachance yesterday. He was in the Sanctuary talking with Ocheeva. He was right there! So close I could have severed his spine in less than a heartbeat! Oh Mother, never before have I had to exercise such self-control. What's sickeningly ironic is that it was the Dark Brotherhood's discipline that allowed me to restrain myself. I've been a part of their "family" for so long it's a part of me, whether I like it or not. And in all that time I've fooled them all. They see me as a fellow member of the Brother, a trusted family member. Some day soon I will learn the truth about the Night Mother, and when I do, I will use that trust to get close to her. Close enough so that I may rend the head from her body, just as Lucien Lachance did to you so long ago! Damn it, mother! Why did it have to be this way? Maria was so beautiful. She was perfect in so many ways. Why couldn't she handle the truth? Why couldn't she realize her "family" didn't really love her? She was a murderer like the rest of us. Paid to kill in the name of Sithis. I really thought we could be together. Make a real family, with real love. But she told me she could never accept your place in my life. So now she's gone. She didn't deserve to live after the horrible things she said about you. I never should have told her, I know. I'm so sorry. It will never happen again, and the others will never find her, don't worry. There's nothing left of her to find. IliketolieinthegrassandwatchtheantsandwishIwereoneofthemintheirundergoundmazesosafefromthedarknessofpeoplehorriblepeople Iwillkillthemallkilltheantskillthepeoplekilleverything I did it, mother! I killed them all! I killed them and I cursed them to wander their ship in undeath for all eternity! They came to talk to the old man in the lighthouse. When they saw me, they could have kept walking. But no. They laughed! They laughed at me, mother! They called me names! They said I was strange, that I was a human rat, living here in the cellar of the lighthouse. They did not know who they were dealing with! So I snuck on board, later that night, and I slit their throats. Every last one of them. So there the Serpent's Wake sits. The ghost ship of Anvil they'll call it now! Ha ha ha ha ha! Some wonderful news, mother! Advancement at last! Lucien Lachance paid a visit to the Sanctuary today, to talk with me! He told me the Black Hand needed my services. One of the other Speakers is looking to replace his assistant, who was killed fulfilling a contract. So Lucien Lachance suggested me! I met with the Speaker, and will serve as his new "Silencer." Ha! Lachance might as well have given me a contract to kill the Night Mother herself! I am now one step closer to realizing our dream. I will learn the Night Mother's identity and tear the heart from her chest. Oh yes, and I have something special planned for Lachance himself... mommy I so afrade. i mis yu mommy. i just wantyu to kis me agenn father prayed and guess who came the hooded man in Sithis' name who left but then he came once more to pass through window wall and door I lie in fear my mouth agape as wicked blade did cleave your nape for I was watching 'neath the bed to see the falling of your head and when your face lie on the floor our loving eyes did meet once more and so I pledged to you that day the Brotherhood would dearly pay and just as they took me from you I'd find and kill their mother too but there's someplace I need to start and that's with father's beating heart and when that's done I'll sing and dance to celebrate a dead LaChance greenblueREDyelloworangegreenblueREDyelloworangegreenblueREDyelloworangegreenblueREDyelloworangegreenblueREDyelloworangegreen blueREDyelloworangegreenblueREDyelloworangeBLACKBLACKBLACKBLACKBLACK!!!!!! I've been careless! Too careless. The bodies, the burnings. Killing that fool Blanchard was the worst mistake I've made so far. I was seen! I was cloaked and hooded, and escaped into shadow, so no one learned my true identity. But now the Black Hand is suspicious. They suspect treachery, suspect a traitor! I must be more cautious than ever. when in the snow I like to lie and fold my arms and wait to die I've been switching them! Switching the dead drops! It was so easy! I tracked Lachance from his lair at Fort Farragut to the first dead drop location. After Lachance placed the orders, when I was sure he was gone, I switched them! It was so easy. Now Lachance's fool Silencer is working for us, mother! Oh, the fun we'll have. One of the Black Hand told me they haven't seen such an ambitious family member since I first joined the Dark Brotherhood. I will use that very ambition to my own advantage. The fool will never question the dead drops, and as I write this is en route to the first target -- one of the very members of the Black Hand! And so it begins. Lachance's silencer will kill one high ranking Brother member, then another, then another, and so on, until the entire family implodes. Eventually, as is the custom, the survivors will consult the Night Mother and seek her guidance. When that day comes, I will be there, ready to punge a blade into that dark whore's fetid heart!

Weather: Very warm when we first came. It's oddly hot in the sun, but as the city is highly composed of rather tall buildings, there was an abundance of shade. So much so, that I actually found myself wishing to be on the sunnier sides of streets. "Sun shine... on my shoulders... makes me HAPPY." Odd, eh? I'm usually not the sunniest of people. The buildings increase wind as well. Excessively so actually. It makes riding on a roofless double-decker bus quite an adventure. Chilly, to say the least. Amusingly, the weather is predicted to be quite lovely the day we leave (and it was) and the days after. Food: Expensive. Seriously, a piece of cheesecake is about $10 uptown. A small pizza with nothing but cheese is $14. You can't swing a dead cat without hitting McDonalds. There are over 300 Starbucks... and only 19 gas stations. Price and outstanding quantities aside, the food is great. I've had goat, steak and kidney pie, and cheesecake and fish 'n chips that actually BEAT Bobby Flay's. Do you know who Bobby Flay is? You should. But ever since Saturday, my grandfather has spoke of what he views as an excellent place called 'Papaya Dog'. Just today (Tuesday at the time) we ate there finally. I don't know what the title put in YOUR mind, but I was imagining a hotdog covered in papaya, or a hotdog made of papaya. Guess what? It isn't. Just a regular hotdog restaurant. Good hotdogs mind, but no exotic fruit. Oh well, its probably for the best, right? Again, it's Tuesday, and we've only had Chinese once. Did I mention we're staying in ChinaTown? My suggestion... avoid the food is possible. Ask me to show you a picture I have of the eggs on my phone. Something interesting to add... the people here are obsessed with Scandinavian water. Every SINGLE bottle of water I've seen someone carrying (which is obviously quite a few) is Poland Springs. And there is a bottle of water of Norwegian water in the hotel room if we want it... for $8 dollars. Thats why Norway does so well you know. They sell our fool selves their damned water for $8 fucking dollars a bottle. That shit (water) is gonna be more precious then oil some day, mark my words. Planes: If you don't know that I hate them, then you obviously don't know me. It made me sick to fly both there and back. I have nothing decent to say about them. Trains: I love the subway. I would get rid of my car and take the metro everywhere if I could. The ones in NYC are filthy though, like nothing I've ever seen. I'm not neat freak, and it freaked ME out at first. Disclaimer: OCDs must avoid Metro at all costs. But they really are as crowded as the movies make them out to be. Drives one nuts at first, but no one really smells all that badly, so you get used to it. Automobiles: So... many... taxis!!!! Very busy. Only 19 gas stations, remember? Unless you have loads of money, theres no reason to own a car in the city. Subways and buses are more then sufficient. And cheaper. Streets lights... They don't matter here. They're just pretty lights on a stick. But once I figured out that they (the people driving) weren't outright malicious and they weren't out to get me, it wasn't so bad. Ignore the taxi speeding towards you. So long as you don't stop and stand in the middle of the street, you'll be fine. Speaking of 'fine'.... There is a $350 fine for honking here. Obviously, it's pretty quiet at night then. Well, save the sirens.LOADS of police cars, ambulances, firetrucks, etc. Tour buses kick as by the way. Some tour guides were really funny... some... weren't. I liked Artie. He's 19, and stayed back by the bus and talked to me while everyone else went to get ice cream. Ice cream at 9pm, 50 degrees out. I ask you... *rolls eyes* Anyway, really nice guy. People: Temperament: Yeah, I've seen the movies too; people in NYC are assholes with irritating accents. Let's expand on this stereotype, shall we? We were here for about 4/5 days. In the time we were here the were 4 shootings, an attempted rape and murder, not to mention the robberies. You're aware of how crowded the city is. People have places to be, and a time to be there. Do NOT get in their way. And good god, don't try to start up a conversation with a stranger on the subway. But I gotta say, if you need help, they're there for you. Pull out a map and look confused, and you'll have 4/5+ people offering to help you. They don't treat you like a stupid tourist either. They're self-oriented, fairly shy, but all around good well intentioned people. Accents: I love accents, I love listening to other speak with them, and to try to mimic them. Al except the NY accent. I hate it. I wish I could convince all the NY accented people trying to give us directions would just grunt and point. Regardless, I've heard more Chinese, Spanish, French, and ... I don't even know what half the shit I heard was. But to hear a black person speak Chinese, and a Chinese person speak Spanish with a Chinese accent was amazing. Appearance: Fascinating. Endless so. If you like girls, there are loads of real cute Asian chicks here. If you like guys... don't come here. Stay home, or go to Toronto. I was... disappointed. There aren't any 'goths' here either. I put on a fishnet shirt, and suddenly people are giving me a 2/3 inch space when they walk, which is a hell of a lot more then compared to any other time. Amused me, it did. Did you know that I wrote this on paper randomly throughout the trip before I typed it, and I'm having a rather difficult time reading it all... Moving along though... Entertainment: Natural History Museum: This is the one Ben Stiller's 'Night at the Museum' was done from. It's... huge. Immeasurably so. We... obviously that an exaggeration. Of coure you can measure it, you can probably find the exact size on the internet if you really wanted to. But I don't. And you probably don't either. Just trust me, it's big. Four floors. And crowded, full of annoying little children screaming it... whatever language they prefer. The museum has massive collections of dinosaur bones, jewels, art, artifacts... you could easily spend the whole day there. We didn't. Indian Museum: Self descriptive, no? Too much security though. Seriously, you touch the walls (BARE mind you, no art work) and alarms go off. We managed to do this three times. The artifacts were cool. The giant wooden wheel with stones, sugar packets, spam cans, and medical syringes seemed out of place though. Bodies: Nine fascinating rooms filled with preserved organs and skinned humans. Literally, these 'people' are... er, were real, have no skin, and all the muscles, bones, tendons, veins, nerves, etc were fully visible. I was torn between fascination, revulsion, and hunger. The room of fetuses was particularly interesting, and were the disease and tumor ridden organs. General: There is a museum for everything in NYC. Modern art, history, police, subways, amusement parks... and sex. Yes, there is a museum of sex. No, I didn't go in. Don't be silly, I went to NY with my grandfather. How fucking weird would that be? I did make sure to grab a brochure though. Did I spell that right? But the museums are expensive, $15-$40 a person. If you want cheap entertainment, find yourself a comfortable seat on a bench of subway, and watch the people. Endless amusement. Sitting and feeding pigeons is fun too. I'm yet to catch on though. Epilogue: Nice place to visit? Certainly. I'd go again. It's surprisingly easy to navigate once you 'get' it, and even if you don't, someone with an interesting accent is sure to help. Better place to live? FUCK NO. It's dirty, expensive (A 1 room apartment can cost anywhere from $800 to $3000 a month) and you'd be wise to learn Chinese, Spanish, and/or French. And keep a pair of fishnets and mace on you at all times, just in case. ^.^ We're finally landing. These damn flights make me so sick. I dunno what I'm gonna do when I get home. No subways, nothing to do at 11pm. Oh well, there's always next year. And Toronto, theres always Toronto. Anyone interested in taking a trip North of the border?

Ancient clocks tick away meaningless hours Endless heartbeat Staring out the window for hours I see nothing Bitter vials of hate freezing my skin I need you Pain shreds through me in stabbing waves It's so real Blades tear across the pages of epic tales I'm sorry Swallowing strange pills for nothing I'm afraid Acid kisses burn my lips Why me Screaming silently, no one knows Listen to me Writhing abominations coils inside of me Get out Self secluded, publicly isolated So cold Whispered affections on forked tongues All lies Memories of immortal loathing I remember Alabaster blindness in an obsidian world Denial Blood seeps under my nails I deserve this Where my flesh yields to razorblade smiles An empty life Why does no one understand? Here I am Trembling in the darkest corner I realize My life is not a game Oh how the whip-or-will wails, And whimsy willows weep. When white winds whisper, warped through woods, To lull you back to sleep. Ebon shadows watch your back, Golden sun forth near. Gentle breeze caress your face, And embrace away your fears. Enchanted words slip through the time, As mystic wings arise. Comfort darkness wrap around, Blessed by azure eyes. Crimson pains soon washed away, Cerulean abyss abide. Never far away from you, And forever by your side. Innocent laughter wrought through the air, Sparkling rain falls from the sky. Crystal streams flow 'cross the land, Caring mirth freed fly. Tie me to my own reflection, Let me burn within. Blackened eyes pierce into me, The epitome of sin. How I love to see their smiles fade, As whips lash down their pride. Run those needles through my skin, A nightmare they'll all abide. Give me strength to slit my wrists, Empower me to die. Watch the blood flow over me, I'll kill you if you cry. Look, see how they've left me! Alone, an empty shell. Swallow their dreams inside my head, To burn with me in Hell. Misery is my only friend, Hate my admiration. Misfortune laughs as they circle me, Love's abomination. Abhorrence kept me safe inside, Locked away my fears. Bedlam wrought around my life, Swept away my tears.

I'm home." Thought Ariana with relief. The sense of comfort and belonging was so strong it nearly hurt. Home is where the heart is, and her heart was firmly rooted in the great rocky cliffs and crashing waves more then 50 feet beneath her. Her eyes glittered with unsuppressed joy, their swirling hazel colors reflecting the deep greenish brown of the water. She closed her eyes for a moment, giving in to the feeling of the soft grass beneath her bare feet and the lake scented wind caressing her face and waltzing with her long golden hair. She breathed in deeply, reveling in what seemed like a personal and intimate welcome. She took it all as an invitation, and a tender embrace. The sound of the waves thundering against the fallen rocks and boulders of the cliff and the actual cliff itself persuaded her back to the reality of 'here' and 'now'. Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the pair of white seagulls that flew out over the tepid water, hovering in the wind as if they were painted dreams. She found herself wishing she could fly with them, forever soaring over the great green waves tipped with white foam. Glide into the endless gray skies, no trees to obstruct her view of molten sabres of lightening and torrents of tear-like rain pouring into the great expanse of water beneath her. A distant rumble was a promise of storms to come indeed, and the once warm breeze picked up into a wind that carried a bitter chilling kiss. It tugged at her skirts in a way that said 'Come, play with me!" The juvenile antics of the weather brought a smile to her lips, and her face became a beautiful and radiant sight glowing with pleasure not seen in years. "Until the moment of my death", she thought wistfully, "I shall never leave this place." As if to answer her, the wind pulled harder, more forceful and demanding when she did not give in to it's previous gentle beaconing. She moved to the edge of the cliff, her arms spread wide in invitation to the wind. Gracefully, she slipped from the edge and she fell with her arms open as if she would fly above the water, her silken hair rippling like sunshine behind her. She closed her eyes, her heart taking absolute delight in this sense of total freedom. The stony beach opened up to her, and accepted her with a such a forceful and passionate embrace that it broke her bones, and snapped her neck instantly. She lay there peacefully, her golden hair strewn around around her like a halo, her white dress draped almost artfully across the stones. Waves came and greeted her, pulling streams of bright red blood trailing steadily for her broken body into it's endless depths as the waves receded. Her body would never be found in this isolated place, and as the blood slowly drained from her into the water, she would never leave this place. A smile of pure happiness and joy would grace her lips until her body was no more.

"I AM POSSESSED BY A DEADLY MUSE. IT STEALS ME OF MY SLEEP, ROBS ME OF MY HEALTH, TURNS EVERY MOVMENT OF LIFE INTO A POSSIBILITY FOR PROSE. IT EFFECTS THE MIND, IT GUIDES YOUR DEEDS, SACRIFICES FRIENDS AND BURNS AWAY ENEMIES. EVERY PERSON ENCOUNTERED IS LOOKED UPON AS A PLAGUE OF MEDIOCRITY AND EACH FACE OF BEAUTY HAUNTS YOUR STEPS UNTIL YOU DIE. PAIN IS THE FUEL THAT DRIVES YOUR ART. HATRED IS THE SPARK THAT IGNITES THE MIND. YOU SPEND ALL YOUR LIFE WORKING ON A PIECE THAT WILL BE MISUNDERSTOOD BY MOST AND IN THE END, ULTIMATELY FORGOTTEN." The black ichor from the old fashioned quill lost it's wet shine as it dried on the paper. An interesting choice, and an unfortunate one, to put such avid words in fine ink on crisp, blue lined college paper. But in times of reckless abandonment, despair, our most precious ideals find themselves smashed, scattered like so many pieces of broken glass on a bathroom floor. The lone paper, now free from it's owner's grasp, floated slowly to the floor. It swayed back and forth as it fell, like a dying leaf in an autumn wind. It settled itself in what it thought was a fine place on the floor, surrounded by glimmering shards and white tile. It was merely paper, and lucky enough to have found a companion in the ink at that. The paper and the ink took no notice of the empty frame on the wall that still held tiny fragments of glass. They didn't care that bare moments ago, a young girl had come into the bathroom nude, closed the door behind her, and beat the mirror with a hard wooden brush until glass fell to the floor like snow on a winter's day. The ink and paper took no notice, they were too happy to have found each other. Too happy to have found a companion to spend the rest of their existence with, bound eternally by obsidian stain and wooden pulp. The clotheless female kneeled in the midst of the glass covered floor, ignoring the bites of the pointed edges as her bare knees further cracked the larger pieces. A pale, slender hand closed around a large, nearly dagger like shaped slice. "How convenient." She thought numbly. She leaned back against the white tile of the bathroom wall, her legs neatly folded out in front of her, Her posture was demur, and her position would have been oddly alluring, especially in her naked form, had it not been clearly obvious something was wrong. She raised the glass to eye level, studying the vibrant green of her eyes that had once glittered with youth and life. The deep burgundy of her hair, long and curled, covering most of her pale upper body. Skin so pale and hair so red it was as if someone had spilled a glass of red wine on a pristine tablecloth. Her eyes showed no emotion, no fear, no hatred, no love, nothing but empty emerald gems staring back at her from within the glass. She was beautiful. Beauty was trivial. Beauty was not love, it was no success, and it certainly was not sanity. No tear escaped her veiled orb, and no sense of hesitation or fear shook or stayed her hand as she lowered the piece of glass to one wrist. Pressing the shard into her skin until she felt it pierce her flesh, she drew it upward, trailing it along the blueish purple roads of her alabaster arm. She never flinched, though she certainly felt a strange combination of pain, and an almost tickling sensation as a wound like a gaping red mouth opened up in her arm. The same process was repeated on her other arm, and, finding the task nearly complete, she carefully laid the glass shard back onto the floor. The white porcelain tub had been filed earlier with warm water, but she felt no desire to rise and get in. What was the point? No matter the means, no matter the way, death was death. It would come all the same in water or not. She shifted against the wall to become more comfortable, the coldness of the tile on her back contradicting the hot crimson blood that was covering her white skin. She sighed, and closed her eyes, waiting to feel that effortless relaxation that would shortly bring on death. "What are you doing?" A female's childlike voice echoed in the cold stillness of the bathroom. A green eye opened slowly, followed by the other. The closed door hadn't opened, she knew that. It creaked, like the door or stairs in any old house, and in the silence of the room, no noise had been heard but her own shallow breathing. "You shouldn't be here." The dying girl chastised. "You shouldn't have been able to... to get in." But as she said it, she knew her protests were worthless. And indeed, it was hardly a protest. The words that spilled from her lips were but a mere whisper, like a touch of fog on a chilly morning. Her eyes focused on the little girl sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. The child's long, tangled dark hair fell in waves around her small, palide face. Big, innocent, doe brown eyes graced a sweet face that would tug at the most hardened of hearts. Her small legs were folded neatly under her little black pinny. A darling waif indeed, but the dark circles under her eyes and the old, battered condition of her cloths were out of place in the child's almost angelic theme. "But I'm always with you. I always have been. Why should now be any different?" She stayed seated, her little ash covered hands folded in her lap, the tinniest of frowns turning the corners of her mouth down. "Well, not anymore. After tonight, I'll never have to see you again. I'll never have to see any of you again!" Emotion was finally beginning to creep into her voice, a half tortured despairing sound, laced with triumph. "I've always been alone, did you know that? My only companions don't exist! They aren't real!" She struggled to hold onto her train of thought. Her blood was now swirling across the floor, following the little paths between the tiles and skirting around the glass pieces. The paper and ink spared a moment for itself to worry. If that horrible, hot red liquid found itself in their safe little corner, they'd be ruined! "I'm mad, mad because of you. Do you know what my life has been like? You should, you've been around me constantly. I have no friends... no family.. no one!" It occurred to her briefly to wonder why she was taking any time to waste explaining to this... this abomination. But she was dying, a self induced act of of desperation and despair. There was no rational thought left to spare to ignore this figment, albeit adorable, who was watching her die. Tears began to fill the little waifs brown eyes. "I don't understand!" Replied the child, her voice wavering. "I've always been there for you! We've always been there for you!" She got up off the toilet and kneeled down next to the bleeding girl. The broken glass and swirling blood seemed to have no affect on her clothes or body. Solid looking as she was, she was a figment, ethereal. She wasn't real, and no blood could stain her clothes any more then glass could cut her flesh. "No matter what happens, no matter what you said, no matter what you did, we were here for you. You were never alone." She put out a hand and placed it on the girl's. Odd... the child had no blood on her, but the despairing girl could almost swear she felt the child's hand on her's. Cool, small, oddly comforting. The thought should have repulsed her, but reason was leaving her like water pouring out of a broken damn, and she was almost glad for the company. "Consider that we aren't here, that I'M not here because you're mad. What if I'm here because I want to be? Because I care about you? Because for as much as I've been there for you, so have you been there for ME." Brown eyes looked deeply into the fading green ones, eager for a response, some bit of reassurance that everything would be ok. She was, after all, only a child. She wanted to answer the child, tell her she was sorry, she had never thought of it that way. That she was glad she could have been there for the girl, and she was glad the girl cared about her and had always been there. Perhaps she wasn't mad after all. And so what if she was? Someone CARED for her. But the strength to speak had left her, and she could only sit with her mouth almost artfully closed, and return the gaze of the child's deep brown eyes. Mistaking her lack of answer for a lack of desire to make one (she was a child, what was she to know about a slow death?), the little girl removed her hand and stood. Sighing in the disappointed way that only a child can manage, she shook her head... and faded from sight. 'Wait...' Came the desperate thought, 'Come back...' But it was too late. Far too late, in every sense. As the edges of her vision slowly gave way to a clouded black, she closed her eyes. She had felt many emotions in her life; fear, anger, love, hate, sadness. And with her last dying breath, a single, solitary tear fell from beneath a closed lid as she felt something she had never felt until now; regret. There was no avoiding it, the pool of blood was mere inches away from the paper and ink companions. They had mere moments to share a brief exchange of care and the greatfullness to be together before the thick liquid, bearing mute witness to despair and destruction incarnate consumed them both.