This is a placeholder so I don’t need to look for them among hundreds of posts, again.
You are welcome, asshole.
Ps; You should be writing.
This week has been an interesting one. At the end of August, I danced with some friends for Mastodon’s new video, “The Motherload”. We were stoked about it. Twerking in a metal video?! Unheard of! We came from varying backgrounds, classical dancers, pole dancers, strippers all nervously…
It’s been a while since I came here. I’ve been studying this specie as soon as I arrived. I found them fascinating and boring at the same time. Each one of them can achieve great things, however when they are together must of the times they act numb, and stupid. When an individual tries to shine in a different color than the rest, the others try to change it so they can match the collective color.
Together, they are dangerous, they can’t think for themselves and that makes them gullible and easily manipulated. If they are go in the wrong direction, they will all fall in despair, they will be doomed.
I am afraid this state is contagious. I am afraid I am now one of them.
This might be my last entry. If I turn human, I’ll be lost.
Today, I am paying tribute to the some of the great men that have protected Arya Stark over the course of her life (TV Version)
Jamie Sives as Jory Cassel, Captain of the House Stark Guard
Tom Wlaschiha as Jaqen H’ghar, the faceless
Francis Magee as Yoren of the Night’s Watch
As I lay here, motionless, I take some time to look around.
I can’t barely move but my head, moving everything else hurts,
I can’t feel my legs.
They left me here, naked and bruised. Broken.
In this dim light I can only see myself, and nothing else.
At first I looked at my arms, covered with recent cuts,
the blood stains still fresh from the last battle,
but around them I found more. Old marks.
The flesh were teared apart by knives, by nails, by claws,
But they all healed over time.
Some of them required stitches,
some of them bled for hours.
Some of them were big, some were small,
but they all have a story to tell.
And I survived them all.
These new scars will heal as well. They will stay there, however,
to remind me how I fell, how I felt,
and how I endured the pain to hold on and live.
These scars remind me I am still alive, even when they tried to kill me.
These scars remind me that everything I did before marks me for life, but also makes me a better warrior.
Past mistakes that I should never do again.
Past histories that I should never forget.
Past wounds, which are now past and gone.
I shall endure this new pain. I shall regain my health, my strength.
And after this, these will only be scars and nothing more.