くらやみ - The Dark

Something you may not have known about me - I'm scared of darkness.
I avoid saying 'scared of the dark' because it sounds juvenile, and I've long since moved beyond the fear that most children have of the dark. Now it's developed into a more mature fear, which is no better I guess. =_=

Anyway, I was just playing piano before, and it was pretty dark. I was playing a pretty speedy nocturne, and it's hard enough that I totally mess it up unless I concentrate really hard.
The wind started to blow, and a variety of night-noises came about.
I'm still playing this nocturne, and I get the sudden, certain feeling, that something is behind me, watching me play.
I don't stop - I can't stop. I love this piece, and I find it impossible to stop playing.
The night sounds grow louder, and I grow more and more horrified by what lies behind me. I cannot tear my eyes from the sheet music in front of me, afraid of losing my place, but I wish more than anything that I could look behind me, just to reassure myself that there is nothing there.
The piece grows faster and louder, and the night grows faster and louder to match.
As the piece reaches its climax, so too does my horror, and finally I finish, whirling around, to see nothing but the evaporation of my irrational fears.

Now, I'm not into hallucinogenic drugs, so I can't really say with much authority what is 'trippy' or not, but that was one of the most fucked up things I have ever done in my life.
It was a direct clash of two of the most irrational things about myself - a passion for music, and the irrational fears that haunt my mind.
They fought furiously for supremacy within my head at the same time as the epicness of the piece I played whirled around my senses.

せい - Life, True (logical), System, 10 ^ 40

I was talking to somebody yesterday.
They remarked, almost offhandedly, that "Life is difficult".
I thought about it. At the time, I didn't really say anything, but I thought about it a bit later on.

I disagree. 'Life' is very easy.
...
I just stopped typing for a few seconds, and did absolutely nothing. I was alive. Living. It was remarkably easy. I didn't even need to do anything different, and I was living. If anything is difficult, then death, or the absence of life, is the difficult thing. Those who are being sent to die, or who are told that they have only a few months left to live, it is they who find life relatively inconsequential. Their death consumes them, and it is the most difficult thing they have ever, or will ever have to do.

But I don't think that's what my conversant was talking about.
I believe that they were talking about the life which we all consider to be 'normal'. A state where we aren't thinking about our emotions, our troubles, and are simply existing. We tend not to notice when we are in this state, because, by its very nature, it does not allow for such thoughts. I like to think that this state is simple happiness. Not joy, or gladness, but simple contentment.
This is what I think was being referred to as difficult. A state of contentment.
Truly, it is certainly something that is difficult to come by. If there is anything wrong, anything that occupies our thoughts, that state vanishes like tendrils of incensed smoke upon a breeze.

I need some sort of fume-cabinet.

Then I'll be content.

ぎせい - Sacrifice, Perjury, Imitation, Bluff

I don't know.
Am I doing the right thing?

The most important thing is that she's OK, right?
Even if I end up being nowhere, so long as she's somewhere.

Even if...



Fuck.








FUCK.
I hate swearing.