Let It ROCK!
I see your dirty face
High behind your collar
What is done in vain
Truth is hard to swallow
So you pray to God
To justify the way you live a lie
Live a lie
Live a lie
Fighting is like singing. When you're angry, nothing in all the planes is more soothing, more calming, than smashing through flesh and bone, feeling the sheer power of the physical blow, the burn of your muscles, the screaming pain of wounds reminding you that you...are....ALIVE! For that moment, however long the hunt lasts, you are a creature, a beast of sheer instinct. The chase, the hunt, the kill. Those are all that matter. It's a great restorer of sanity, you know, to have no more pressing need than survival, to only have the cause of breath and run and hit and evade.
It's where I feel most alive, most clear, most
myself. It's something no one can ever take from me.
Because when I arrive
I, I'll bring the fire
Make you come alive
I can take you higher
What this is, forgot?
I must now remind you
Let It Rock
Let It Rock
Let It Rock
I spent nearly an hour yesterday, staring into a looking-glass. Trying to see what's there, to
understand what I saw.
Pretty smiles, honeyed words. I've always found them to be false. People don't understand why I don't smile at them, why my words are terse and sharp. It's because this is the greatest respect I can show one who I hold worthy of it. To show them that I will not lie, not use smiles to deceive, half-truths to hide.
They don't understand that I still feel pain.
They don't understand that the lies, the manipulations, still hurt me.
Or maybe they do, and don't care? Either way.
When Louis ever-so-gently cast me off, I managed to hold together enough to get away.
Now, I am cast off again, though a bit less gracefully, on my part.
A "loose cannon", my "family" calls me. Good riddance to me. Good riddance, indeed. It appears that this, at least, is mutual.
I have not yet determined what to do about this latest insult. More pressing matters are at hand, and I am glad of it.
I can lose myself in my work, and be surrounded by people. I am...at best...unsure how to feel about this. I am so accustomed to being alone, or being ignored, that their (for the most part) forthright acceptance is strange and discomfiting to me.
Jenna and Vanom, I mostly understand. Even Frey, I generally comprehend. Generally.
Lily...I can't grasp. She worries me, and I don't trust her, and for some reason I think this would sadden her. But the smiles, and the easy acceptance...I've been burned before. More the fool, I.
Back to the hunt. There, all is clear, and all is right with the world.
"Fail your Death Attack? Boomstick. Immune to sneak attacks? Boomstick. Gnome? Boomstick." ~ Baron Saturday