Sup3rnality

(Written on the 7th of April)

I'm out of my mind.

This is a story that was not meant to play. It usually goes from rising action to denouement, and all is resolved within itself. This is not how it goes.

But I hear the clanging of the bells. If not from my own insane mind, then somewhere in a distance. And maybe because it's too far that I can't really hear what it's trying to tell me. I think it's saying:

You're out of your mind.

And I'm not even begging to differ. I know the character I play, and I know I stand in the crossfire. I know I'm the one holding the lighter fluid and setting myself alight...but heck, the pyromaniac in me says go ahead. Let's see how hot the flames burn. We're all doomed to burn anyway. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We all play with fire.

But I'm out of my mind.

I'm feeling the burn and I know I should take a dive into the river. I know I should douse the flames and feel the chill down to my bones. The only way out is to fight my way in. Cos to change what's within won't happen anytime soon. But believe me, carving out my insides is not a daily practice I occupy myself with.

So, I'm out of my mind.

Tell me something new. Tell me what's the safest bet. For the love of the all-consuming, blazing fire or for the safety of the coolness of the icy falls? Either way I'm wrecking the play, and the director might be screaming...but in my state tonight, I'm sick with a fever and deaf in one ear.

Love, LinZy~

(Written on the 6th of April)

I'm out of my mind.

The early dawn brought revelations that I thought would assuage this burning. I thought it would douse the flames. I thought it would wake me up from my impossible dream. I thought it would tell me that I am ablaze with the wrong fuel, and I'm threatening to burn the house down.

But I'm out of my mind.

I say, let it burn. Let it burn. Let it go up in flames and see everything I built up turn to cinders. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Isn't that what they say at some funerals? Well, we're all doomed to burn. We're all dust. That's what my irrationality says.

I'm out my mind.

But I think I like it. I like entertaining my thoughts that have long remained idle. That have collected dust along the years. Exploring thoughts long forgotten, emotions long since felt. There's danger in falling deeper, but I'm sinking anyway. No use pulling me out now.

But I'm out of my mind.

Cos I know I'm wrong. I know I was wrong all along. Even from before, before I woke up feeling comfortably wrong, I laid down my rules in plain black and white on my wall for me to see lest I forget.

And I'm out of my mind, cos I have. And ignorance is such bliss.

Love, LinZy~

The heart of my Claddagh points to me now =)

I'm out my mind.

I can't do metaphors when there is no painting up what I feel to make it any less real. Does that make sense? No, I suppose not.

I am caught in a constant dilemma. My internal monologue is talking my ear off and I can't listen anymore. The din inside here is becoming so deafening that I'm going out of my mind. I am out of my mind. I heard myself say that over and over for the past few weeks.

It began with the dreams. And the thing that she mentioned offhand, when I was offguard. I realized something then: that I was out of my mind. Dreams cannot be, but I am having trouble waking from them. I'm beginning to believe that I'm living them, or not yet....perhaps soon.

I'm out of my mind.

I felt my face burn. Seared and an open flame that could be read by anyone who saw. It's like being on fire, the house burning down and with everyone watching like it was the most beautiful sight ever. Even the firemen has stopped to watch, and I don't think they're planning to put it out. Heck, even I'm having second thoughts.

My private monologue longs to sit down and have a little chat with me, if possible, face to face. I suspect it has alot to scream to my face. It'll probably love to give me a slap acroww the face to wake me up. Maybe shake my mind out... I guess there's no blame in that. She has been working overtime, compartmentalizing everything, plaing them in manageable sections that can be stored and filed away in a moreorganized manner. So I could take them down and study them at my own leisure. Truth is, the filing cabinet is so full of cases that need to be read and reviewed, that I'm bursting at the seams. Urgent matters need discussing. I'm going out of my mind.

I heard it whispering in ear last night. It told me it's ok. Life stretches into the horizon, and we can't see what beyond without going that extra mile, or that slight offroad, or detour, or pushing that huge rock off the road. Although, to be honest, I've said that it's ok to just ignore the rock and trip... But I'm rethinking that.

So is it left or right? Or the stright and narrow? Heh, I'll confer with my monologue, my conscience, my side-kick; let's see what she says.

I'm out of my mind. And I have a feeling that I'm not alone in this.

Lin~

That was-- That was--

Wow.

I can't feel my brain. I mean, that was--

Wow.

Mind-blowing. Crazy. Extraordinary. Extremely unbelievable. Damn psycho of a plot. I was speechless and motionless for a complete minute. It's just--

Wow.

A bit of 'eww' in somewhere in there, too. Not to mention the 'Oh my God. Oh my GOD. OH MY GOD.' And the 'What the Hell?', as well. But mostly, my mind was screaming: 'I bloody knew it'.

Or actually, I saw it coming but never thought it'd actually come to be. So, still, 'Oh my God; comes more to mind.

Wow.

Where would this go? Where would it lead? What does it mean? What would happen eventually? And will the Soulful Duo make an appearance and step in? we won't know til they happen.

But--

Wow.

This wouldn't be the first time, though. We Whedonites all know this little dance number and we'll dance along. Just as long as we don't end up in smoke or in a Pylea, I think we'll deal. Until then, in JOSS we trust. And oh, I shall read no more spoilers.

~Lin

(written for FidZy)

We don't talk anymore. So often now we sit next to one another without ever saying a word. In silence we would stay until I accept that he would not say a thing no matter how long I sit by his side. We do not talk. I'm not even sure he listens. So sometimes I leave. Leave him to himself; hoping on another day he'd talk to me.

Sometimes I stare deep into his eyes to see any trace of acknowledgement. Just hoping that he'd see me, to let him know that I'm there for him if he ever wants to talk. But he doesn't. He just gives me a smile that hardly reaches his eyes, let alone his cold heart. He doesn't talk. And so I go, perhaps another day.

He's so still. Unmoving. Stares off into space, thinking... Thinking thoughts that I know are not of me. I'm tired of this. Tired of trying when he never bothers to. Maybe there's no use coming around anymore. Waiting on a person who can't even turn his head to show you he sees you; that he cares. He's so cold. So I'll say goodbye.