Dear diary

Dear diary I felt like coming back after all this time just to say there was no update in all these months. I am still myself and I can't absolutely understand humans. They all seem to be loving life and all this yadda-yadda, but can't fucking control themselves in order to save another. "Life has an immensurable value unless it bothers me". I always thought some people deserved death, especially through torture. That brought a lot of critics because life was so, so important. Fun fact, 2020 brought all that shit to its knees. You fuckers who cherish this shit are nothing but a bunch of hypocrites.

So much stupidity being spit around as if something was actually serious. All these people who had access to resources and education and what not, yet prefer to spit idiocies based on "every was saying this". But I heard one of you saying that some judges should be killed indeed in order to justify some of the retard acts we've been seeing lately.

I noticed. And that makes me somewhat happy because deep down I know I'm not such an abomination. I just thought and let the hatred a bit more free, unlike all of you fuckers who keep on denying our monstrous reality.

I wish I had the answer, I can't wish for death by asphyxia to all of us because there's a game I need to finish now. It is more important than anything else. I am wasting so much time. But don't worry, as soon as we are done I will spend all my energies in wishing a frightful and excruciating death to all of us.

Not over yet

I guess I do not do things for myself.
I know the answers but I'm too bedazzled by the questions to bother.
You were told not to see what he sees, because that's not on your realm. Still you befriended the shadow.

You still won't see what he sees.
And it probably will reciprocate.

But if only you could see the way I see, these words may be of help.
They aren't obviously mine. I ain't that wise. Am just a dweller of these worlds.

If you feel like you can't handle the burden, there was the boy from Caelondia.
Listen. All this takes a lot of gettin' used to. And you get used to it... after a while.

In case you are somehow met with a task that seems too much for your shoulders, or there's a decision too harsh with an easy (easy as in betrayal) solution, there was one taken as scrap on the year 2300, aka the future.
I'm sorry but... I cannot afford to lose anything else... Not my precious memories, or my irreplaceable friends... Humans have taught me much. Crono, Marle, Lucca, Frog, and Ayla... I will not betray my friends.

When hell breaks loose, remember of the companion that was there from the very beginning...
There's no way he's going to hold me back again! This time, we fight together!

I hope that time never comes, but if they ever seem to trump you, and make you feel like you are too small to fight back, remember the fiery corridors in which a father guided his son to freedom.
Never give up. Trust your instincts.

One I really like, from a simple terran who faced chaos. You may have heard it before, but I think it's always important to remember.
But it's our sweat and blood that will make it happen. After everything that we've been through, past all the fire and fury, the one thing I know is that we can count on each other to get the job done. Or die trying, if that's what it takes. Because some things are just worth fighting for.

And whenever past comes to bite your butt, there was an orphan bounty hunter.
My past is not a memory. It's a force at my back. It pushes and steers. I may not always like where it leads me, but like any story, the past needs resolution. What's past is prologue.

Underneath

It's a mix of this and that.
It's a potful of drama.

I hold all grudges and grudgingly I remain. I resign and accordingly I sink.
I refuse and thoroughly I collapse. I condenm and vitriolically I fade.

We all can tell the tale of the boy who slowly but surely succumbed to death, for his demise was certain, more and more so than any of us, for we all head to the same grounds. But some go faster, alas, enforced.
And though all efforts could be made time and again, in order to assure the hands grasp you long enough, strong enough. So you feel your breath vanish, as reality subdues your senses and seldomly you'd be thinking it could just be done already. That would miss the point. And miss it by a long shot. For dread and awe, as amazing as they be, cannot vanquish what we found.
And hence, I beg your ears for another round.

As no men of art, nor culture by any means, we insist on this dwelling. As harbingers of fortunes long reversed, and grimaces so twisted it sounds like chuckles. Our most preposterous mighty endeavor, toward an end to advocate. But not an end that enhances circles, cycles eternally interlooped, the egregious fate of all existence. It is us who seek the devil? Or is it him that calls beneath?

You see, all these doubles separated. United far away. At extremes so abrogative. Is it the light that needs the darkness? Or is it the darkness that cannot see?

I for long have been hiking, and climbing and diving if you let me. At times reckless and self-denying. Cruel, far and between. Oh, don't look to the horizon, it's you the world I see. For seeking I've been, on and on, these eyes born on thee. And though perils warned they have, you had to come to see. So, won't you please, please my darling, just give that soul to me?

The farewell stance

I wanted you to get this message earlier on.
But I didn't know how to say or write, it felt clumsy and I didn't want it to lose its meaning.
It tore my heart to see you cry that morning. And the fact that one of the first things you said right after receiving the news was how could you tell that to your brother just added damage. It's truly impressive that you worry about others even in these situations. I was dazzled for a few minutes.
However.
That incredible ability should not blind you to taking care of yourself. Worrying about yourself. Making sure you get to move on, not only regarding the way life turned out, but rather with all that was already happening way before that day.
I have no idea what has jolted among your thoughts these days, I don't know what were you told and the content of every one of the many comforting messages you heard. But I'm taking of the risk of repeating information.
Remember that she said she raised you for the world.
And that means you're not supposed to diminish yourself in any way, nor get enclosed by any grounds unworthy of your flourish. You're up to take the world, head-on. Don't let fear, or unfortunate situations hinder your advance. Don't let others stay on the way, even if you feel you have to help them. Helping people means giving your best to allow them to achieve their best, not being responsible for their lives.
For the world, no less.

Who holds the knife?

I find it curious that homeless and beggars should be treated as invisible objects.
I comprehend the safety first idea, but wouldn't that be a bit too much if we get to the point of completely ignoring people? We can't know beforehand if someone is willing to fuck us up with a knife, and if we are in a place where there's movement, and open stores, can't we at least trust a beggar with our attention?
I feel ignoring completely and just passing by is quite disrespectful.
Not something I'd expect from someone who holds the flag of social progress.
Maybe social stuff only matter when it's to fight for the causes we invest ourselves.

Weak

I'm sorry...

It's been a few days I heard the songs that marked those dark days.
I haven't improved shit since then. I haven't followed any of the words said except for the self destructive moments. I have nothing to tell you. At least on the topics you deserved to hear.
It still makes sense. And that means I'm not done yet. I barely started. And I keep on this roller coaster of money and things to do, things people say I've got to do. But I don't know if there will be time enough to do everything. I don't know if these aches are normal and if all these problems to sleep are normal.
All these dreams, all these characters willing to go to great lengths to kill me. Did I tell you I've dreamt a ridiculously long dream about eastern Europe? And even there I found trouble.
A weird cheating wife who was crazy with guns and then her black-magic bearing husband thirsty for revenge.
I've even had planes falling on me in Japan.
It seems nowhere is safe.
I wonder if had that day not come things would be different. Maybe not, there would be somehow another reason for me to hunt myself. At least you would still be here. 
Coming to think of it, it looks a bit stupid because you were absolutely not that into being near me as you were with others.
I can't focus much on anything and I don't want to go to work. I don't want to see my friends and I don't want to start anything. Because it's broken. Maybe some things are never meant to be fixed, actually. They aren't broken, they just don't fit among the other pieces.
I have so much hatred boiling inside for these eyes that keep on watching me from afar. I don't know what do they expect of me.
I'm too weak.

Flak

Quirk.
A word that came to mind upon thinking about a path of description for this year's launch.
A quirk of fate that it turned into such disastrous discussion. It's mind-boggling how it spiraled down, yet one can always choose to blame overworldly forces for one's quirks.
We all had our curious behaviours, by simply paying attention it was easy to spot something was off. Well, something seems to be always off. We're adults, we're tired, we're anxious, we're worried. Each and every one carried an amalgam of these. We focused on our private worlds, but the connection between them, it felt lackluster.
Maybe it's just me, but this ain't a rambling about connecting people and closing the mirrors that drag our attention.
It's a coming in terms with a big part of 2018. The rage I beseech as my burden has been along time enough. The newcomer is the projection. We make projections of people by small quirks we've seen on the ones we hate. And thus we forget that the one right in front of us ain't them, it's those who are by our side. Traits and ideas of those we hate are a part of those we hate, they aren't the true definition of them, for people concoct a myriad of traits in becoming themselves. And the process is never-ending, as our constitution changes from time to time.
The events molded us, and will continue to do so.
I need to control the tendency of disagreeing with people. And focus on not projecting.
Despite hating those who feel superior, I can't go all-out on anyone who shows that trait. Sometimes it's those we care for. We need to focus on remembering there's no good and evil, and many times ideas we hate are a part of people we admire.


But what if, the projection is helping us?
In which way?
It is a sign that one is becoming like those we hate.
While it could be, young one, remember signs are very vague, and reading signs ain't much into our book. It could be a transition into something better, for all the variables to account for aren't even known, if they ever will.
But what if they become?
Then they did, and as long as they are satisfied and following their beliefs, it ain't our business. We can present our anguish, say farewell, and things of the same sort. But it ain't our duty to change them or keep track of what they have to become. Don't fall prey to such ideas.


Hold the flak, these aren't our targets.