Once Upon a Time...Part 2

Once upon a time, there was a boy that found himself standing in the middle of a war with huge warriors and skull-decorated brutes that crashed and screamed and hacked away at each other all around him, roaring war cries and dropping by the hundreds to the floor, blood and guts flying everywhere...

One day, the boy realized he wasn’t perfect. The oversized sword and shield were still in his hands, and still not realizing they were there, he scratched his head thoughtfully. These people had a point in picking on him. The faults that they were jumping on him for were valid. He was the things they accused him of being.

But they were many of those things themselves too. But he wasn’t rubbing that in their faces. He wasn’t picking on them for it, so why were they doing that to him? He just wanted to be left alone. But he realized he was in the middle of this war, whether he now wanted it or now. He realized he was going to have to just suck up his gut and take it, to be patient and still smile and be his delirious self in the face of all their attacking him. He would have to just make himself comfortable in the hell until he developed his means to fight back, and create that peace that he wanted so badly by himself.

And a few of the strong ones in the army watched and waited patiently for him to realize that he had the perfect weapons in his own hands. They waited for him to lose himself and just act without the dilution of thought, with nothing but the pure, most primeval fluctuations of his heart, and use those perfect weapons with absolutely no reserve…

To be continued?

Shadow

Theres this thing that pops up in my head when I’m overcome with despair, or when I’m overcome with happiness. I never notice it coming, but only I realize it when its too late. When its already here.

I thought that it’s fear. I thought it’s that terrified part of me that wants hold me back from all the little things and big things of life. The part of me that thinks little of me. But whatever it is, it also pops up when something happens that’s almost too good to be true. When I’m overcome with happiness. It waits for me to be lost in that feeling, with my head in the clouds, completely overjoyed and in disbelief. And then it comes.

It’s the part of me that hates me. It waits for when I’ve lost an iota of control of my self. Whether I’ve lost myself in fear, or hopelessness, or extreme happiness. It sabotages every aspect of my life that it possibly can. Makes me do things that I wouldn’t believe in my “conscious” states. How do I keep it back?

I’m going to name you. I will name you Mr. Valentine. Because of the massacres you’ve caused.

Haha….okay, waaaay too corny for a short story, huh? Maybe..I’ll see.

Adios.
S