1 Year, 96 Day, 0812 Hour: As the hundreth day draws near, the astral seasons will begin to change, and the spiritual wind
that pierces my mind so keenly will be reduced to sporadic gusts. Considering that I have only been truly alive for ninety six days
at present, I am curious to see how this epochal shift will affect my mental processes. Indeed, I seem to know things and not know
them simultaneously. The information that I impart in this space seems so indubitable to me, and yet, I know not how I've obtained it
until the instant I do. Perhaps some errant consciousness or being of pure thought speaks to me, knowing I will relay its message.
At times like these, I feel timeless; an outsider to the very nature of being. As if I am standing still
at the edge of a fast-moving stream, watching it with melancholic eyes.
1 Year, 90 Day, 1445 Hour: I...am afraid. I have experienced a terrible fear. Of myself. Of what I know I can do.
I preach peaceful ways and love for the spirits, but deep within me there is a disgusting, white seed stinging the pit of
my soul with it's barbs and needles. It pulses, sickeningly, each and every time I supress feelings of hurt, anger or dismay.
This embryo contains something words cannot describe. A horror which no creature can fathom the intensity of. My rage can make
the strongest of men fall to their knees and weep, my hatred can burn the entire cosmos in a consuming white flame. After so long,
my vitality is waning, my great will is begining to break... At all costs, I will supress this...demon who makes my shell it's nest. The
greatest worry I have, is that this is not a foreign entity, not a malign parasite...but part of me. Part of the self I have yet to explore.
If I do, I fear it shall engulf me. He...calls to me. When I hold a knife or a pen, he begs me to plunge it into my right eye. My right
eye specifically. I know not why. All I can do to put my spirit at ease is to promise self-demise before loss of self-control.
No one, not even a part of me, will ever have my mentality as their own.
1 Year, 42 Day, 1448 Hour: What do you do when you're lonely? That's what Mako asked me.
He's a young companion of mine, an innocent thing. He sees the world clearly, his heart is honest.
I asked him why he would ask me such a thing. He just shrugged, but I could see in his eyes a sadness.
It's a beautiful sort of sadness. Something few people get to see, and fewer get to experience.
For an instant, as I looked over at his curious face, I saw myself, and began to cry.
1 Year, 35 Day, 0050 Hour: For some weeks now, I have had an awkward feeling around my upper back.
It feels as if there is...something lodged under my skin. A physical inspection will show nothing, but I feel it.
My wings. They're under my skin. They feel stuffed in there and out of place, desperate to dislodge and spread.
I have seen them with my mind. My wings, they are not glorious or beautiful. They're...leathery, mottled, lanky and
riddled with holes. But I like them. I want to free them, and wrap myself in their comforting grasp.
Perhaps some day, in the future, I would wrap another within them as well.
1 Year, 34 Day, 0020 Hour: Sometimes I despise this shell I have been given. In some ways it suits me; it is tall,
has a masculine jawline and intense eyes, but in other ways it couldn't be farther from my true form. I wonder if such
troubles plague all creatures. I suppose it matters not. I cannot change this form in 'reality,' only in my mind and the minds
of others. A shadow spoke to me. Humanoid, but lacking features. Its dermis was alike ink. I saw it with my mentality, just
for a moment. It woke me from slumber, shouting at my face. I became filled with a horror which I had never known before.
Could this simply be hypnagagia? That is what I shall deem 'truth' for the time being.
I can only hope that the wandering spirit I saw finds serenity.
1 Year, 29 Day, 1310 Hour: The drama begins.
1 Year, 29 Day, 0629 Hour: We sat, grimly, gravely, contemplating our situation in silence. Round a campfire,
in our miserable hovel, hiding from the beast that lay just beyond, searching for us. We had rationalized that he was
too large to pursue us this far; we were safe, for now. I was the eldest, but one among the five was not content. Hotheaded?
Perhaps not, or perhaps, I can but speculate. He was among the youngest, but was not intimidated by our seniority. He told us to
take up arms, to go down with a fight, to go out with fire in hearts. The others looked at him through disenchanted eyes. This only
impassioned him that much more. His bravery astounded me. Bravery...that is a word oft misused. It implies not lack of fear, but the
willingness to overcome it. So young, but in this instance, he had a manly air about him, a wild and untamed wind whipping dashingly
around him. I was not the only one to take notice. A young woman just older than he was taken with his courage. She rose, and
others followed. I was the last to stand. He was less like a man calling his friends to attention, and more like a general rallying
his comrades for the final fight. We were not foolish enough to assume we would live to see tomorrow, but at least we would cower
like children no longer. At least we would face our deaths proudly. I should like nothing less of my departure.
1 Year, 28 Day, 1300 Hour: The renovation has begun.
A cleansing renewal. For now, the portal is hollow. Soon,
sweet voices and bitter screams will fill and echo throughout.
2005 February 22nd, 3am: The first day, when 風 at long last
awakened, his spirit fully realized. His shell remains unaffected...
.
