Linkin Park - Leave out all the rest

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I hate you.

I wanted to say that so badly. Knowing the words were incorrect stopped me from saying them.

I hate that I have to spend the rest of my life drumming out that recorded query, that "Are you sure?" you'd always ask. What? I don't know what I know? That my decisions are to be second guessed? That I'm uncertain of what I just uttered?

I hate that each living day, I have to quash that part of my psyche that undermines each and every decision I make. You had no idea how much work and anger and despair went into creating a mind that can handle the shit I've had to wade through. You had no idea, you had no intention to destroy it but here I am. I stand with a part of my mind always doubting until I can repair that hurt.

I hate that I have to rebuild what your words of doubt and the months and weeks of ignoring me destroyed. You didn't know just how many nights and hours and years I've spent telling myself that by myself, I am allowed to be. That I have the right to be me. You didn't know and you'd always ask if I was sure. Did I not say the words to answer your question? Or was I always so little that I caused you to doubt?

I hate that each and every thing I do is now met by doubt and uncertainty and more self-loathing just because you've repeatedly asked if I was sure, on top of poking holes at what I said. That you confidently went about your way and just laughed off your mistakes while highlighting what I did wrong grates up to now. It was always about how you hurt, about how you felt, about what you thought. That when you'd bend and give, it's to be remembered and treasured. No amount of gratitude I gave was enough. My forgetfulness was a sin. That you remembered differently, that you remembered, was the baseline of truth.

I hate that despite all the destruction you've done, you can always say that you had no intention to harm. And while that absolves you, it doesn't change the fact that I have to rebuild my mind. The predator did not intend to harm its prey, only that it meant to eat. It's the prey's fault for being too weak. No, that analogy demonizes you.

The havoc you've wreaked is no different from a storm. The storm simply is and did not intend harm upon those it passed by. But it doesn't change the fact that the casualties are no less dead just because they were in the storm's path.

I hate this hate.

I hate that by my standards, you're not to be blamed, ever.

I hate that I was too weak to withstand your words.

I hate, because to do otherwise is to succumb to despair.

So be it

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What value do my thoughts have?

When said thoughts allow me to make a living, they've monetary value. When said thoughts allow me to perceive the beauty that exists in this world, they're enriching.

But what worth do my thoughts have when it conflicts with the perceptions of others? Outside of myself, my thoughts have no value. Its contradictory nature to the thoughts of those others, from experience, reduces my thoughts' worth to zero. Of course, we could discuss how intrinsic worth is more internal than anything, but that's another story.

So callously dismissed. So carelessly belittled. So blithely deemed vanity. Such are my thoughts.

So be it. What is of no value to others will be hoarded.

Mine to keep. Mine to know. After all, it is worthless to all others.

Of course, it matters not to others if I keep it all inside. After all, it all boils down to money. For as long as I've money, all others matter little.

The bridges are raised. The windows are shuttered. As my thoughts are of no value, so shall they be kept within.

The line is drawn.

Choose and act.

Escape from Mars


=~=Location: Inside the Samurai - Heavily modified Pellaeon-class Imperial Star Destroyer, currently traversing Infinity


~=~Dramatis Personae:

Bridge Crew:

Commanding Officer : My self
Executive Officer : Hannibal Lecter, MD
Weapons Officer : Teletha Testarossa
Launch Officer : Lisa Hayes
Tactics Officer : Lacus Clyne
Intra-ship AI: ANNA


CIC (Combat Information Center)

CO: ANNA, please program our forges to construct an M-O.

ANNA: You mean Wall-E's friend, that Microbe Obliterator?

CO: [smirks ruefully] There's a lot of flotsam and jetsam from those crashes and renovations. Assigning EVE to clean-up is overkill. Besides, I'd want to blast 'em myself but that's better delegated to a specialist. I'll find catharsis as I can at the hangar and forges.

LO: Failing that, we'll prep the latest testbed for MAGENTA.

TO: Taichou, your stony stare into space won't change the fact that The Samurai performed as best as it could, with what resources it had. That the ship held its ground for so long is proof that given time, The Samurai -can- win most engagements decisively.

XO: We still failed. And all your brooding won't change a thing, Captain.

ANNA: He did ask for M-O's construction, Lecterjii-chan. It's a step towards the ship's restoration.

XO: And there's more to be done.

WO: Logistics for our lascannons and ioncannons are well-within threshold, with supplies for two more days of our hit-and-run.

TO: Running more than hitting but an escape-and-evade course never did go as planned. 

LO: Yes, we could've run weeks back but we all agreed that holding what ground we had while pushing as far as we can had its merits.

CO: The numbers were too low for a reasonable victory as it looked like a war of attrition at times. Fortune favored the bold. This time, the dice didn't cooperate.

WO: We count what we have. All our pilots made it back, rattled but whole. Even our LOTOs' crews survived that last bombing run. Not that they'd care to repeat the experience if they can avoid it. 

XO: You mean if The Samurai manages to evade those Martian pursuit craft until we're beyond their range.

CO: We'll keep doing those random sideways micro jumps to avoid an easily tracked straightforward heading. I mean, it's likely we're just being chased out instead of being chased down but let's fly to survive.

LO: Our mechanics are working at a reduced pace while ensuring that we've a pair working during any of the three shifts

ANNA: How many M-Os should we fabricate?

CO: Three. Seven's overkill and we've already got droids for the routine clean-up.

XO: Just so it's clear, ladies. If our esteemed captain orders us to head back to Martian airspace, what do we do?

WO: Call ANNA.

TO: Distract Taichou. With boobs, robots or scantily clad girls piloting robots, whichever works.

LO: So ANNA can bonk him unconscious [retrieves a scaled-down Gusion hammer].

ANNA: And I'm confirming that I've the code that lets me do just that.

CO: Thank you, really. Having a back-up plan for this helps.
 

War's handmaiden

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   It matters not how I run.

   It matters not how I defend.

   It matters not how I attack.

   It matters not how I stand.

   Despair, at its whim, reigns above all.

Kylo Ren is a wuss

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   Force-users in the Star Wars Universe have always had a place inside my head. They're warriors and philosophers, in varying degrees, to the extent of their personalities and strengths.

   Strange as it is, I identify more with the Sith Code than the Jedi's.

   How so? The wishy-washy approach of the Jedi does not address the innate problem of the strong trampling the weak. With the Sith Code, one is driven to be strong. What the believer uses the strength for is something else altogether. 

   Yes, it's about strength.

   With strength, one can defend his beliefs and his loved ones. With strength, one can create her path and shape her destiny.

   It's about strength.

   And strength is not limited to the physical. Mental strength is key. There are many broken warriors who relied on skill and strength of arms while their minds were left undeveloped.

   Today, strength is given.

   Today, strength will come forth. From anger, from hate, from fear. Burn the negativity and let it fuel the drive to be stronger.

   Strength comes from without. Strength comes from within.

   Strength of mind and soul and body will see you through your trials. One without the other two, two without the one; these are weak. Strengthen all three and smash through!

   Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
   Through passion, I gain strength.
   Through strength, I gain power.
   Through power, I gain victory.
   Through victory, my chains are broken.
   The Force shall free me.

   Credit goes to David Gaider for the awesome Code.

Enkidu

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Get a bucket, say one that holds 5 liters of fluid. Fill it halfway then lift it. It's not much, right?

  Hold it where it is, as high as you've lifted it.

  As the clock ticks, it gets heavier despite having the same volume.

  That is how I handle guilt.

  Wrong done, regardless of intent, demands punishment. It matters little if the hand holding the rod is no longer my parents', I will wield a whip and swing it towards my exposed back.

  I did wrong, and so I must be punished.

  All I ever did was wrong, so all I deserve is punishment.

  As I was taught with each punitive act and word, so do I burden myself with guilt.

  It matters little if the wrong was accidental or small or easily forgotten by the offended party, all that matters is that I did wrong and that I must be punished.

  It does not have to be a whip in my hand. Chains inside my mind bind just as strongly. At times, I wonder if the whip would at least grant catharsis compared to the endless encirclement imposed by my mind's conditioning.

  Perhaps I just need to cry, to find it in me to forgive myself for the wrongs I've done.

  Or mayhap the whip is lacking whereas a noose will suffice? Yet, doing so denies me the chance to make things right. And a chance is all that I'll ever get. That's if I choose to seize that chance.

  I owe it to the people I've hurt, with or without intent, to make their pain worthwhile. I owe it to them to ensure I don't hurt others as I've hurt them.

  I owe it to the people who've stood by me despite the pain I gave. I owe them more than due effort so I don't hurt them again.

  Punishment is my due, for deliverance that I will earn.

Christmas!

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=~=~=~=Location: Inside the Samurai - Heavily modified Pellaeon-class Imperial Star Destroyer, currently traversing Infinity

Optimus Prime: Captain! Something came for you!


OP: Let's see... It's from the Iron Lady!


OP: First ribbon.

OP: Second ribbon.

OP: And a clear polka-dotted plastic wrap?!

OP: Here you go, Captain! All unwrapped!

OP: Now to open it up!

OP: Ohhhh. Envelopes. Fancy envelopes. You can use these!

OP: I'm just going to recharge a bit.


OP: I'm taking this to the Stationery area of the Stockroom!