004 // text; username: werbinich

[hauntedsavior]

[this, like most of the posts that anna makes, comes in the middle of a sleepless night. she's gone as anonymous as she possibly can, at least. maybe that will stop people from calling her out. maybe one day she'll learn how to talk about her emotions without sounding like a theater kid turned supervillain.]

How are we all feeling in the wake of January?
Are we feeling whole? Normal? Like ourselves?
Suppose you aren't. Suppose you walked, or flapped, or slithered away from the shedding ceremony feeling extremely different.
Could any of you pinpoint that change, do you think?
Would any of you even still be aware that you used to be someone different?

And on the other side of the coin, for people who returned to "normal".
Do you remember what happened? Do you remember who you were?
Or is it all turning into some kind of soup within your own brain?
Do you have any way to stay that gnawing feeling of dread inside you when you think of the way you're losing touch with your own identity?

And if you have no idea what I'm talking about... call it a thought experiment.

Comments

[hauntedsavior]

Would you believe that I know what that feels like from a time before this one?
Because that is exactly what walking within a dream is like, and for parts of myself, that is exactly the connection I have with them.
Does it frustrate you when you try to reach out to those parts of you?
Or is it something you're willing to accept as mysterious and ephemeral?

[peripheries]

It's frustrating... I remember feeling more in control than I do now. I want that. I want to understand more.. and I want to understand my purpose...

[There's a pause as he dictates his texts to his omen. But this is Anna. He can say it.]

What if the other me was better?

[hauntedsavior]

[for this, anna doesn't have a glib and mysterious answer. she had worried it herself. she'd worried it about the version of her who had never been transformed, and she'd worried it about annalise, and she really does not like that there's more than one alternate version of herself that she can worry was better than how she is now!]

I don't know if I have an answer for that.
I don't want to think too hard about it, because... well. It won't do much.
But knowing it isn't productive doesn't stop the thoughts.

You are the only version of yourself I know, and I like you perfectly fine.
I have no interest in changing you except by helping you find ways that would make you happier.
If that means anything.

[peripheries]

It does.

[And he means it.]

I just remembered there was a part of that me that was more at ease. Like I knew what I had to do.

[hauntedsavior]

Likewise.
I wasn't at ease, but I still had clarity. I still had such a strong sense of purpose.
It was like everything I doubted about my life ceased to matter in the wake of such a powerful, blinding light driving me forward.

I still do not know if I like that better, knowing now what the light was guiding me towards.
But I understand the feeling.

[peripheries]

Yes. I had purpose. And it was purpose I had accepted instead of the purpose I had been created for. All I had to do was keep going towards the light. Nothing else mattered other than going forward.

Yet, there was a part of me that was unhappy.

Knowing or not knowing... are both just unhappy existences?

[hauntedsavior]

It's certainly possible.
But it's possible, also, that the destination isn't the point.
I'm not sure. I've heard people say that even if you know the ending, the path you take to get there will be what surprises you.
Maybe that's where it all lies. In the time between the seconds.

Or maybe I'm just a geriatric romanticizing the horrible burden that existence can sometimes be.
I'm not sure. I would like to believe my own poetry.