Overwhelmed

So many illusions...
So much effort into destroying them all...
I'm too tired to write any of the stories that recently passed through my head.

Can whatever comes next be better than the remote past?
Sometimes I wonder if I could call people to play Tales of Symphonia with me, but then I think that's too much of a burden to people. Because I want what is at the past, I want people playing like it has been played back there. It's not their fault.

What is really real?
I don't really care much about the answers as long as they are different from the ones I see over my head.
What counts much more is to have someone to stop by and actually caring to answer.
As in, take your time. I'll take your time. Give me your time. Only then I can understand.

Is my head going to explode? Is this how it ends?

Eternity

There and back again, what comforts your mind?
There and back again, what blisters your mind?


Dis... traught.
The word contorted his face in a smile as it made it out of his mouth.


Under the building, facing the street. The air, calm and slightly cold. Wind blowind gently, but sadly.
His eyes focused nowhere, though one could say he stared uninterruptedly at the street. As a child that waits for a delivery anxiously.
There was nothing to wait though. It was over.
The emptiness in his eyes reflected the inside of him. Pain had made its way in corroding all that lied within. Despair filled his thoughts before, now, not even despair could enter, there was nothing. As someone who took a punch so strong there was no reaction available, he silently stared there, sitting in the elevated floor. Legs just hanging there in the air, no frantic or childish movements.
Was there nothing else to fight for? No more ground to step on for support? Where was the beautiful sky when he most needed it?
Sitting by his side, she sadly tried to hold him back where they really were. She tried to mark the real territory using words, but that just didn't seem to work.
Maybe... maybe nothing would work. Maybe that's how it was supposed to be. Over.
She glanced into nowhere also, could the answer be there, right next to them, calling for his attention, but still unseen?
Or could it be...?
She had already stood quiet for minutes, struggling in her head to get an answer. There was none.
Both, sitting in the ledge.
Nothing else happened in the world. No cars, no people in the street.
And that was how it got to be.
Sometimes a brief lightning of existance could strike through his mind. But as such, it didn't last long. Everything around him seemed to try to engulf him. Being a part of nothingness had never felt so real, out of reach, except for those two arms.
Those arms...
She hugged him, in a way her torso faced him sideways, and her head stood right next to his neck. Again, words.
Those had sound, though.
He sighed.
As nothingness surrounded them, she held him. Through eternity.


If only the meaning of enough could exist...

The garden of help

Do you know it?
I mean, do you know those times when you think about writing something but the ghosts haunting your head just... don't let you go.
I haven't learned to stop judging, I mean, the bad judgement. Nor have I learned to forgive. At the moment I'm tired. I feel like at these times I gotta refrain from speaking or writing, or just doing any communication... in order to avoid doing stupid things. That's because I judge as stupid some of the things people do when they are lost.
There's a ton of judgemental scenarios.
Haha, this wasn't supposed to be a sad text. But unfortunately, every night in the weekends has became a strange journey through emptiness.
Hm...
It's stupid to ask for help when we don't know what could be done to amend the situation, right?
I sometimes think about getting my friends for a sleepover, it could be nice. But perhaps we are too old for this shit. Maybe I'm too old for anything.

At a first glance, it was all about that chat. It happened over some kind of deep, maybe a canyon. They sat at the border, one swinging legs like a child that is too excited about a new story.
It's a place to not be, for being there would require of one's patience and bravery insane amounts. The guards are ordered to not let anyone pass, dead or alive, for there shall be no harm to those two. Under any circumstance. It could be said that is one of the last peaceful sites that now remain in our world.

—So, what do you think?!
—I don't know, do you really think that would work?
—Of course! Who wouldn't want to be helped?
—Well, I don't know, maybe someone whose need for help is pretty specific, so, not everyone could help.
—But then, that person doesn't need help, he needs something else, that he disguises as a need for help, because he doesn't think he can acquire it by himself!
—Well, maybe, maybe...
—So...?!
—You really want to help people?
—Yes!
—Why?
—What do you mean?
—Why do you want to help people? Don't come saying that you don't want anything in return, that's a stupid lie.
—Ah, I see. Well, there once was a man who told me that when you help someone, you make a bond of gratitude with that person. I don't know exactly how that works, and I don't know if I already have such bonds, but they say it really can make you feel very, very joyful. That has to be a very awesome feeling I suppose. But then, they say that you shouldn't do something for others if you are expecting something in return. Well, that holds true for most cases, but I think that desiring good things for myself, as in wishing to feel happy, isn't what they aimed when they created that phrase. First, because they say that before liking someone, you have to like yourself. Before trying to help someone else's garden to flourish, you have to take care of yours, in order to be able to walk through it and get the means to help others. It's not like, help yourself first, then others. It's more like, get yourself in good shape, so you can effectively help others. Look, I don't know, my entire life I've felt a monstrous urge of helping people. Maybe it's because they said helping others make you feel good, and that could mean that helping others could make me feel okay. Most of the times, I don't feel very okay, but when someone asks me what's going on, I just don't know what or how to say. I don't know how to gauge things, maybe my garden isn't ready, maybe there still aren't those pretty stone tiles in the ground, surrounded by pretty grass or what-will-be-pretty-grass-in-the-close-future. I just wanted to help someone, and feel that I really changed someone's life, for the better. Maybe, that's a quest for forgiveness, who knows. I don't really know how to get out of this maze of what it is and what it is not. Maybe someday I can have someone to think of me as some sort of hero. Or an angel, like in the remote times, even though I've never felt like one. I just wanted... to be something. They say this weird thing I feel could be erased with the company of a dog, or a girlfriend, I don't know. Coming to think about it, I don't know many things, and everytime I come to think deeper about anything, I feel like I know nothing, I know no reasons, no objectives, no "why's". I just, float through thoughts and emotions daily. And this has to stop somehow. And helping someone might be the way out! Because, of all the strange tide of emotions that come back and forth, the feeling of feeling useful for helping people was among the constant ones. I don't know how to help, I don't know if it would be worth it, I don't even know who to help. But some people can only recognize things in themselves after someone else recognizes these things. That's a way, I guess. Please, I just need to do something, if I remain thinking I will gather doubts about whether this looks reasonable or not.
—You know, I've promised to help you, through the pain and misery. I don't like to see you lost as you have been in the last... long time. And I need you to be sure you can count on me, even though I'm just a creation of your newest repair module, just a trick your mind used to give yourself support in a world where you just don't seem to be able to truly connect to people.
—I know.
—So, you don't need to ask. You've already got my support by heart.
—To the garden?
—To the garden.

Let the carnage begin

Socorro.

Dream wars

It just hurts as long as you allow it to hurt.
That's what they say. In part, it's truth.
But, it's not truly real.

I see it, in my dreams...

As much as you can control it, I can also.

Who are you?

I AM... YOUR ENHANCED VERSION.

Why are you here?

It's always there. Lurking in the shadows oversized by my dreams.
Waiting... creating chaos...

I KNOW WHAT HURTS YOU NOW... I'M GONNA FUCKIN' KILL YOU...
Even if that's true, you actually know that by killing me, you kill yourself, right?
Pheh... I am here way before you kid. And I'll be here way longer than you could ever be. I AM NOT A PART OF YOU. YOU'RE JUST A LEECH OF MY POWER.
I am not afraid of you.
LIES! YOU ALWAYS ARE, WHEN YOU SLEEP, WHEN THEY COME... WHEN THEY LEAVE...

It could perhaps be good to see you in my dreams...
People get happy, don't they? Why don't I?
Because it is not real.

I CAN TRACK YOU DOWN ANYWHERE YOU GO, REMEMBER, TWO CAN PLAY THE DREAM GAME.
I don't care.
WE ALL KNOW YOU DO, YOU THINK THAT KEEPIN' YOURSELF BUSY MIGHT HELP YOU FORGET, BUT THAT'S NOT ALL. THERE'S ALWAYS THIS LITTLE PART OF YOU, HOPING. THAT'S WHERE I CAN STRIKE.
So?
WE ALL KNOW THERE IS NO GIRL OUT THERE, AND EVEN THOUGH YOU TRY SO MUCH TO CONSTRUCT YOUR DEFENSES, I KNOW HOW TO BRING EVERY WALL DOWN.
...
ALWAYS ALONE, ALWAYS ALONE!

I find it funny how people seem so strong against such things.
Well, everyone has some special strength I guess. We are just too fucking weak in this aspect. That's just it.

All I ask is for a concrete sign, a real concrete one. Like, an explosion or a wall of flames. That's what I can see.
We see what do we want to see after all.
A real signal, something really different like those things you see in animes perhaps...

But you know that's too much to ask, don't you?
I do.
And that it's unfair that one has to do such effort in order to maybe somehow succeed.
Life is unfair, we are just trying to help the die roll. Maybe it's worth it.
Maybe this blast can happen...
Let's just hope.

A MIRACLE? HAHAHA!

I find it pretty when she speaks almost as if apologizing for a mistake, with one eye closed.
So cute.
And she makes me sleep.

Rancor

What shall we dine tonight?

I remember...

You see, there might have been an even older force behind hatred. It was rancor...
So you mean...?
Rancor is what moves you.

Fast footsteps on the ground.
She ran madly, stepping on puddles made by the relentless rain. The tears flowing nervously through her cheeks, disguised by the tears that came from the sky. It was just as if the whole environment cried for her. Her voice, weakened by the screams of moments early, was lost within the agony of everlasting thunders.
It was as if they already knew. She could almost feel she already knew it, but at the moment, surviving was the most important thing, and perhaps the only thing in her mind.
Not very far behind, a weird figure walked after her. Large steps, fast-paced, though not yet running. The pale skin contrasting with the black clothing. The head, a bit declined, though not facing the ground, just positioned in a way the angry eyes could show what they truly meant. The hair covering the forehead lazily, like a beast that was conquered by the sad rain. Raindrops pounding his face, but never his eyes, as if some magic force repelled it.
The face frozen in a serious and empty expression.
And the steps went on.
Whenever she got far ahead, he would just run and maintain a close distance. Repeatedly. There was nowhere to run.
The rain, covering the closed buildings around them, raged through the night. The wind did not blow, perhaps it just observed the hunt from afar.
Once again, she had quite an advantage, a quick look over her shoulder told her. But that didn't make her calm, he would be running to catch up any soon.
Actually, even sooner.
This time, she saw his face, distorted in a mad smile, running after her. The murderous desire in his eyes paralyzed her for a while, an overwhelming vision.
As soon as she got back to her pace, he slowed a bit.
She felt it wasn't going to last any longer if it remained that way, her legs, albeit strenghtened by the adrenaline and the fear, weren't fighting much more.
A hand rose in the air.
She cried and runned as if that was all she could do.
And all of a sudden what she did was fall. Slowly, facing the muddy grass, and then going closer and closer. She didn't understand, what had just happened? Why...?
She hits the ground, the mud paints her face, her clothes. Confusion prevents her from preparing to get up again, the tears now go red.
Red...?
Facing the left, she sees it.
A stone, wet, facing her, imposing. Almost as if it made fun of her, of how easy it was to take her down. The red paint at its side slowly gets washed away by the wailing rain. She feels it.
The back of her head now explodes in pain.
Pain.
The blood paints her fingers as she touch the wound, but there's not even more will to scream...
And the steps continue, slower this time. Almost as if it appreciated every second of her despair.
She cried.
Despair was everything there was. Her questions concerning the whole meaning of it were all that could be heard. Even the thunders silenced.
Calm steps, slowly passing through a big puddle.
The questions getting louder.
And then, shoes right behind the stone.
She moved her head, looking at his face. And now, silence was everything.
The weird smile, the contorting face.
She got quiet.

He stared at the glass walls of the building. Rain painted the glass outside, making slow curves with its transparent material.
There was nothing...
Yet he stared.
Back to the workout.
And it was amidst the exercising he saw her. Her cute face was taken away by a sad expression. Not totally sad, not exactly shy, not of all seriousness. And there, while the rain slowly covered everything, she put her finger in the glass.
He stopped to just keep there staring at her. It felt strange, but mostly, it felt warm and comfortable.
And slowly moving her finger through the glass, using herself as a shield so that the raindrops wouldn't stop whatever it was that she tried to do, she hypnotized him.
The world stopped for that girl.
And the drawing on the wet glass went on.
He seriously watched it, as she had her eyes focused on her finger.
And it stopped.
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
Deep inside, something just exploded.
He ran away, without finishing the exercise, the religious practice of working out.
At the glass, the phrase "I love you" slowly got washed by the rain.
Outside, that hug slowly took away the sadness of the rain.

Om nom nom...

Let's transform all that hatred into muscles!

On your knees, blades on neck

Sabe quando você não tem nada a dizer mas quer muito, muito, dizer alguma coisa?
É tipo isso.

"É tão...''

Eu me esqueci a palavra que foi usada. Algo como reconfortante ou aconchegante, mas não exatamente nenhuma dessas palavras. A idéia é que passa uma sensação de calma, paz, um ''porto seguro'' talvez. Imagino que deve ser isso que se sente quando se está com alguém que se gosta e blábláblá.
Not to mention anything after, remember that.

Eu me lembro.
Eu sinto inveja.
Mas o que eu queria dizer que não deveria ser dito se é que tem alguma relevância, embora eu deva dizer algo pois já cheguei até aqui com o propósito de falar sem ter nada a dizer... (ad infinitum)
...É que no momento o que eu queria mesmo era uma companhia pra poder chorar.
Simple as complex.

Sabe quando você fecha os olhos e vê umas flores e um braço mecânico?
Flowers and machines?
É.
Não. Como é?
Estranho.

Eu vou perder por absurdo, haha...

On your knees

E pela primeira vez, não tivemos nem vontade de ir pro pontão...

Just so you see

"Open your heart, show him the anger and pain... so you heal."
Taken from Sinfest, 02/04/2012 strip. I just loved it.
Maybe that's because it had the word ''Justice'' with it, and that's a pretty word. Moreover, let's go.

Today, I finally finished Ocarina of Time. Yes, it's been eleven years since I last rented it and had to stop playing right at the front of Ganon's Castle.
11 years.
Man, this was amazing.

As I understand that it's hard for you to be free out there, I've created this new dimension for you, it will last for a few minutes, then you'll be warped back. Enjoy!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
Have I SAID HOW AWESOME THAT WAS?!
THAT GAME IS FUCKIN' AWESOME!
*kicks furniture*
AWESOME I TELL YOU!
*ultra loud growls*
Come here!
*gets a baseball bat and breaks glass walls*
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
*some people join the action*
ARE YOU READY FOR WHAT'S NEXT?
ARE YOU READYYYYY?!
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAH!
*full-scale destruction*

*dimension ends, time shifts, worlds shift*

Dude, that was awesome!
Good to know you liked it. That also proves one of my points, there IS something alive in you. It's just buried too deep. Just so you see.
...Thanks.

The roll doesn't stop right there. That also proved a point that's very well received. We managed to take all the time to play and focus on it and live it and not regret it.
No thoughts about ''I should be working'' passed the barrier this time.
NOT. A. SINGLE. ONE.
World record!

We also had a rainy, no, better. An almost-stormy-night. That was awesome. Here's for hoping next time we get to ride the storm.

I guess... maybe that means I'm good at one thing at least.
Creating things inside my head.
That's fun.

Thanks to all the army that held everything back while I fought my way through Ganon's Castle. You'll be remembered.

I'm nuts. And I'm happy for this brief while.
Peace. Out.

What is it that scares thee?

The truth?

The truth is that we have never fought against such insane amounts of fear. We can't even sleep because they'll find us in our dreams. To look back is frightening. Thinking ahead, pure terror.
Yet we can't find a way into the present.
Terror lies both ways.

Still, we fight.