Proxy

   I wish I would stop projecting, that I could take this into my own hands and somehow fix it.

   I've tried many times to take action, to choose a path, and to steer towards some direction in this mad sea, but every time I feel the consequences leave me worse than before. Now I'm afraid to act.... to hurt people, to be as evil as I fear I might be, to discount my frustration on people I wish to be happy and understand the reasoning behind their actions.

   I try not to be selfish, but I imagine most people want some part of their life to be the way they want. I've chased my desires for so long, but now the labyrinth of dangers to avoid leave me unable to act, waiting time to pass, to see if the pressure of those unstopping sands can change the world, or claim my bones.

   Watching the flow of time can be a burden on a soul. Specially in the paradox I find myself in, wanting to change paths, but unwilling to take action. And that is where things become unfair.

   I know I have no right to ask this of you, and that is why I don't. But I silently wish you'd take up arms in my name. That you'd find revolt in my situation and be stirred to do something to help me change paths. To say the words I so desire someone would say in my behest.

   I know the words can hurt... I imagine their purpose IS to hurt, and in discomfort cause change, but I've caused more hurt than I can bear for this life, so I know that if those words ever leave my mouth, they will no longer serve any purpose, for I would be dead or no longer care about the changes they could cause.

   Hence the silence I so desire to be broken.

   But I can't ask you to fight this battle for me, this wildly unfair request will remain along side all those unspoken words.

   Yet, I wish you'd be the voice that breaks the silence.

The Sound

I hate it!
Every single thing...
I don't remember anymore if it was always like this.
Maybe it has been too long.
Maybe I always did hate it.
At first it might have sounded like a better solution.
Could have been just a delusional thought.
I was just trying to avoid worse fates.
I had seen what happened without them.
Maybe a long one could help control the fringe cases.
But my ability to access my surroundings only got worse with time.
One more just for precaution.
One more to save other from myself.....
one more to save me from others?
I don't know what I was thinking.
When I realized the situation had gotten out of hand, I had lost sight of any control.
Blind.... sharing this space with that sound.
Maybe I could take some time to recover here.
I should be safe....
ha!....
Hard to imagine I ever had the heart to chose a different path.
Don't think I could have fought through the potential pain.
Then again, never had I imagined things would change like this.
So many restraints.
Growing stronger in time.
Tighter in regret.
Shorter in fear.
Don't think I can break free.
But I keep trying.
And the sound indicates every shake.
Every clank reverberating with the fears meant to keep me in place.
This dark place, forgotten.
My only company these chains that I've created.
Now more mature than my capacity to remove them.
I hate the sound they make.
Every movement a constant remainder of the narrow path to thread.
Yet.....
I fear much more what the silence has to offer.

One Last Question

What will you regret not doing once I'm gone?

Desired Lost Content

As I sink into loneliness,
I find myself perplexed.
All the media content,
Now suddenly on point.

Telling stories of old,
Of new friendships,
Of being together,
Of sharing time and life.

They may resonate the heart.
The desire that is now gone.
But I ask myself why now?

The pain may be gone.
But so is the power to move.
I just want to sleep, forever.

Everything Lost vs Lost Everything

 - "Come on Milla, we need to get home before it gets dark."
 - "But, that man looks so sad, shouldn't we do something?" - She replied pointing at the man sitting in the bench, near the fountain.
Her mother felt compelled to give proper attention to her child's plea, but was hesitant to be dragged into other people's lives. She looked at the man, staring blankly into the water, he barely moved, apart from his breathing and the single coin he kept rubbing between his index and thumbs.
She felt sad a first, she knew Malla was right, she should do something, but the more she looked at the coin, the more familiar this person seemed, until her brain connected the dots.
She grabbed the child's hand and turned to go away, pulling with enough force to frighten her.
 - "Wait, where are we... can't you do anything?" - She cried.
Amanda just walked, with a tear dropping from her eye, dragging her daughter until they are out of sight from the man, just after the corner and she stopped to wipe her face.
 - "Mom?"
 - "Dear, do you remember Vito?"
 - "Yes?" She answered somewhat confused.
 - "He lost everything last year in that accident, his family, his house, money, everything he had spent his life building."
 - "But that was not him!" She interrupted feeling uncomfortable from that sad story.
 - "True, but Vito didn't stop when he lost everything. He began using his time to make sure those kinds of accidents would never happen. He lost everything he had, but he still was filled with purpose, to help others, to do something. Sad as it was, Vito is living a normal life now. That man, " - she held Milla's hand stronger, but her hand was shaking, cold and sweaty. - " His name is Garid, and he had everything. But unlike Vito, things were not taken away from him, no event, no disaster. The only thing between him  and happiness was life itself. As years went by, people drifted apart from him, nothing he did helped, there was nothing to fight, no challenge to overcome, no reason to be more."
They stood there in silence for a while, Amanda shaking, trying not to cry. All Milla could do was hug her, give her the love she was taught to give.
 - "Someone who has everything and then loses it, has nothing to fight against. He can't be strong like Vito, he can only drift in life. He can cling to that coin, to those memories, but ultimately he has lost himself."
 - "But can't we help him? If he only had some love he would feel better!" - She chanted with a child's bravado.
 Amanda's lips trembled as they parted to speak - "I tried,,," - tears streaming down her face.

~ The Adventurer Chronicle 34 ~

... hit the ground with a resounding thud.
- And down he goes. Now this is what I want you to pay attention to" - she pointed at the fallen man - "When sustaining energy for a long period of time... any kind of energy, you have to keep an eye on your reserves. As we've seen here, he has been fighting holding an energy barrier, as well as offensively casting, and all of this stacks, faster than most people realize in the heat of battle."
She circled around him, but all he could was turn his head to follow her with just one eye open.
"See, everyone has limits, and while it is good to keep pushing them, it is unwise to do so in a life or death situation. You can usually push yourself over your natural limit, doesn't require any special training, just the will to do so. Who can tell the consequences of doing so?"
A girl in a blue dress shyly raised her hand.
- "Aliara!" - Neralda said point at her excitedly.
- "Well, when you push yourself too far you can fall to exhaustion. If physical you may be unable to move, mental you might pass out, and spiritual you risk your life."
- "Correct, but he was casting spells, yet his body is the one not moving, why is that? Also, why do we not immediately collapse as we hit the energy limit?"
The girl blushed slightly and indicated not knowing, but looking at the rest of the students, none of them seemed to know, so Neralda continued.
- "Thank you Ali, the reason is in the cycle of energy. We take energy from the universe, most of it comes from eating, but also we passively absorb from the environment. When you practice here, and reach your limit, your spells stop working because you feel safer not forcing yourself, but in battle, when something important is on the line, you will not hesitate to do it. But when going over, your body will go into a negative state, consuming bits of reserve it can spare. When the body feels the strain, it stops giving, and starts taking back. But since you can't give it what it wants, it forces you into an optimal state to take what it needs. In our case, that means the body needs to get energy burnt for mana, the interesting part is until he manages to recover a good amount of mana, any energy he gets is immediately taken to form back those reserves and recoup any losses. So for a big period he won't be able to cast, even if his life depended upon it, even if his body managed to move again shortly, he would still be running empty, and that is a dead mage."
Everyone observed attentively the explanation. Some looked a bit scared, started moving around as if checking their energy reserves.
- "So...

Imperceivable Identifiers

I'm colorblind.
I've known this since I was very little.
It caused a great deal of stress in my early life. It got in the way of education, I was made fun of constantly by other kids.
Two things came out of that.
I learned that I should not be afraid of it, or ashamed. It is part of me, I'm not unique, and I should have fun with it. So I did, I learned to make it into a funny thing to bring up and joke around.
I also learned that colors are not important... or maybe I should clarify, that no color is MORE important. Since colors are simple attributes of materials, they become as important as texture, reflectiveness, smell, bounciness and so on. And that is to say, color is not an important identifier of anything. So I stopped paying attention to them. I only identify color when called upon, or when looking at personal preference (I love yellow and black)
We still live in a world that gives out too much value to identifiers. Racism, sexism, prejudice. Anything like that will judge something to be better than the others. Black is bad, so bad that we can't call someone black. Being a man is good, good to the point that the world is full of advantages geared towards benefiting men.
We need to stop treating any identifier as anything else but a way to identify a person.
The tricky part is, removing distinction, without removing value, is complicated. Very hard to do.
I may not care for what color is an object, but I'm still vastly aware that everything has a color. I will still make choices based on my personal preferences, but at least with colors, I won't act like the color of the object makes it better or worse. After all, liking black puts you in constant attrition with how black is evil, for villains, for monsters, for sad and loneliness in most media.
That is a great exercise for me. Constantly avoiding those stereotypes, light is good, dark is evil in games.
The thing is, being dark, woman, tall, fat are still identifiers, they mean something. We can't ignore those attributes, if we did, there would be no distinction.
And that is the issue.
I know proper colorblind people can live perfect normal happy lives. But the life without colors is a bit worse.
As a game developer, and a fanatic player, I'm aware of how much difference color and sound can make to a game. The lack of colors or sound, can MEAN something, but when they don't, it is just a miserable experience.
Think of something you enjoy, a sensation. Be it looking at the beautiful colors of a field of flowers, feeling the warmth of a hug from someone you love, the smell of coffee in the morning, the taste of that delicious family meal or even the sweet melodies of your favorite composer.
Now imagine, just try, what it would be, if you could not tell the difference from one to another, from the good, to the bad.
Not sure people can imagine this, without experiencing this in some area. But then again, I don't recommend experiencing this.
I would just like that people could understand.
Understand how it is important to have those differences. To know that those identifiers exists. Because only when they exist, you can appreciate what you like.
For someone that can only taste rocks, that delicious lasagna tastes either like rocks, or nothing at all, that person can't enjoy that part of life, can't prefer one food over another.

Nothing is the same, everything is unique, but nothing is more important, what is important, is that we have the identifiers to tell apart what makes us happy, and what doesn't.

The Beating Paths

I was given a choice,
In fact, many times,
Now with no voice,
just a few rhymes.

I tried to be different.
Wished to be better.
Failed to really matter.
I just ended absent.

Past was left behind,
present a chaotic mess,
bleak the future mind,
no power, or access.

Soon my heart may stop.
But blood will still flow.
You can see the void grow.
In time, no more co-op.

Farewell, good bye.
Thank you, so long.
For what was not a lie.
Never made me strong.

Helpless

Have you ever felt helpless?
This is an interesting word. It's meaning is quite clear, but yet the word hold much more on it's formation than what value has been given to it.
As the dictionary goes, helpless is defined as being as the inability to do something about a situation, or someone who is without protection or support.
That is mostly clear, and how we see it, but the word means in itself "without help".
Now you can be without help and still take action. Anyone trying to make a difference, and generally any good in this world will, more often than not, be acting without help. A lone voice shouting through the noise.
You can be unprotected or without support and still not be helpless. Single mothers that rise to raise a child alone, to work and provided are often unsupported and yet they prevail.
So what bears so much weight when someone is truly helpless. What does it actually mean to be helpless.
Being helpless, is a reflection of an inner state, a state which is immutable. In this state, something strong stands alone, something that represents part of an identity. Something that grew inside the images projected by society. This single core stands at the center of everything and yet, in the blind spot of all the mirrors of civilization.
People around you can't see it, because it is behind the reflections they see of the boundaries created by society. People can even realise that help is needed, and the nice people will try to help. The people who care about you, will support your core concept, even without really understanding.
The problem is change, or better yet, the lack of it.
When that help, that support, your actions and choices, do nothing.Because you see, there is a blind spot, a place where no one withing those constraints can see. Not even oneself. Maybe they can see it exists, but what you see is akin to a black hole, a central vortex of entropy a space that reflect nothing from the world you live in. All identity you throw at it gets swallowed and ignored.
It presence is fierce and strong, keeping your own self boundaries in place. Accessing it would require a lot of realigning to fix all the projections to avoid this blind spot, but it is hard to break such force.
And it is after a lot of effort, and external help, when you realise that other people are helpless to help, that it sinks in the true meaning of helpless.