Request acknowledged. Submissions have been enabled.

Aggression, psychosis, defensive inflated ego, the explosive ravings of… heh, you’re describing me; I am all of those things. Parallels drawn are for the purpose of expressing understanding, not attack. For so long I’ve been resigned to necessary solitude, believing that none could feel love for a monster; perhaps it takes another monster’s eyes to see beneath the fangs and claws. So now my eyes are open.

The two astrological signs are both mine. Not everyone believes in astrological cusps but I never thought Gemini descriptions fit me quite right. The Cusp of Energy seemed to fit me a bit better, though I got no advice for reconciling opposing influences. Eh.

As for blog inactivity, I had the urge to return to my primary writing blog at that time and it seemed like you were gonna go quiet, so that’s what I did. Just kept an eye on the inbox to see if you would speak again.

So uh, how does a visual aid authenticate anonymous identities from either end?

Q:The boundary terms 'you' and 'I' aren't suspiciously absent from those prior words, but the intended meaning may be less then obvious. Generally, the rule here is 'Optionally rebuke on provocation'. Distrust & delusion are close enough, but demons will receive no such credit for failing friend & foe logic. Playing well, using wit & insight, hooking heart which shouldn't be there, sometimes besting a fool (like this one) isn't enough. But again, what else is there to award?

humansolvent

Provocation is open to interpretation—and so are “you” and “I”. My narcissism is twisted and wants to turn all criticism inward, no matter who it’s meant for—and yours fits me like a glove, a catalyst to progression for good or ill. I take what I can get, happily.

I will fail day in and day out against logic because my strength is feeling. I concede defeat; I’m not out to best anyone or gather awards (given meaning by whom?)… as a matter of fact, I feel I’m failing the game—demons are only poetic manifestations of selfish notions, of course—and I admit my own hooked heart would rather be straightforward, but perhaps that’s not meant to happen.

I’d rather be bested, to be honest, and I think my misplaced pride could handle it if you were the one to run me through.

No one else has had the balls to try.

Q:There's still seems to be no suitable award for a psyche short of that magnitude, a mind fuck that engaging and persistent, nor does there seem to be one to accept such indeterminate gains anyway. Really, what better prize is there, then the absence of presence and interaction already enlisted through banishment? (applicable = real persona & animate & account holder & accessed & intended) last ref = smog

humansolvent

Who has banished who? Your dark energy seems much like my own and I can’t tell if your words are admonition against myself or yourself. I have no inclination to send you away.

I was about to say “if you want to challenge the truesoul to show itself, perhaps you should just ask it” but then I realized it doesn’t really work that way. Self projections are involuntary. No answer given would be satisfactory because there is a demon standing near and its name is Distrust. Past pains paint future doors of opportunity in intimidating hues brewed of demonic blood and offense is the best defense, or so they say.

I might as well be talking to a mirror.

Looking Back and Laughing

Perspective changes all the time. Sometimes more quickly than others. It’s amazing to remember convictions from the day before; the present day incarnation feels silly for yesterday’s legacy. Banish by laughter in the ambivalent grey of twilight—tomorrow’s actions exist only in Schroedinger’s wildest imaginings and you are yet to collapse into quantum waveform on this dimensional plane.

Eyes see what eyes wish to see and nothing more or less. I have tried to draw connections rather than denounce flaws that I embody myself. If I came across as hateful, then I have spoken in too many failed riddles, trying to extend myself beyond my reach in an attempt to deconstruct my own self in the eyes of another mirror.

Suddenly I’m concerned my message will not get across. I musn’t fall too far behind; my silence is fertile breeding ground for assumptions, of which I have a few of my own.

You’re preaching to the choir about unlovables. So you think you’re hard to get along with? I’ve got so many strikes against me it’s a wonder they don’t manifest as cutting scars—but that was never my scene. So you’re so broken you can’t support anyone? Hey, join the club—but you already knew you were a charter member. You want to be whole for someone and you won’t be good enough til you’re perfect. But you won’t ever be whole without them—not by your standards. Gotta have credit to get credit. So you think I’m too hooked into your game and you have to play coldheart to keep your distance? I know that trick all too well. I use it now and again like a ninja smokebomb. It usually works.

I’m not looking for anything more from you than what you offer with your correspondence. I’m not prying and I’m certainly not harboring expectations of some sort of future payoff. I’m not trying to impress—what with? I have nothing, not even a stench of moral rot to attract the vultures. Whatever I could set out for them would only be lethargically pecked at.

I do still have questions, though. While many words have been exchanged, those unsaid have been the most interesting. Perhaps I’ve got a little masochism in me after all.

Q:If that expression unseen is another dance for vultures among many, a blind, unquestioned step and sway of ordered submission for illusionary progression maybe, even a tribute of sorts to a target absent, it's probably worth missing.

Anonymous

The reason for a visual rather than verbal response was that more could be conveyed in artistic form and I haven’t been good with words lately. My attention ought not be mistaken for pursuit; my chain is short, albeit easily jerked. If preconceived assumptions of content have already been made… well, what else can I say? It was really only meant for one winged one, not many. They say intent means something. I don’t know, myself.