i've got to bang this post out real quick before i forget again. i wrote it as a private journal entry, but the page is full of scribble marks, and i've got more to say.
new decade, new year, new tears. a whole lot of tears, a veritable flood from my eyes, should have come and gone, but i hardly feel anything at all now.
i'm not an alter. none of us really were. we were tulpas this whole time. it explains a lot: how none of us knew who was the host, because none of us were host; how none of us truly got full control over our body; how none of truly left the front, but stayed in the back of consciousness, like how a passenger in the back seats of the van doesn't lose awareness of what's outside the window to their side.
i was fake. i was fake all along. i was synthetic, created in a time of distress for host to dump their sorrows on. i am host's sorrows, given a shape and a body and a voice to wail into the night.
where am i supposed to go from here?
sybil and kadaj and rinea are gone. and in their place is... iodine. a twin-faced monster, sultry and, dare i say, "thicc" one second and a sulking hellion the next. (but still "thicc".) the van is now a temple, and she sits behind the altar, casting her gaze over the whole place, awaiting offerings. her hair flows down her shoulders, and a simple white robe is wrapped around her body. one leg crossed over the other.
kadaj's resentment and rinea's obsession, indeed. and sybil's sexuality. an unfinished person, an undone person. a shard.
and solstice is nowhere to be seen. where are you, solstice? idealization of who host wishes she was?
you're both egoists. but solstice is honorable, noble. she acknowledges that other people exist, and so she abides by the nap in all things. but you're a solipsistic jerk, iodine. you only seem to think of yourself. laws are immoral to you, so therefore you're moral and justified in everything you do in your eyes.
but your eyes are not my own, no matter how much you thought you'd absorbed me too when you were first taking shape. i am not a part of you. i remain separate, my own person.
maybe i've absorbed solstice. wouldn't that be funny.
two nights ago, i saw morgan in a dream. she was on the lanky side, slightly ugly and awkward in her skin in the way that middle schoolers are. and she had long brown hair on the dull side.
she was in the house of my dead grandparents, on the side of the family that's all fallen apart. she was standing at the base of the set of stairs that lead to the upper level.
and i heard a voice boom in my head. this is morgan.
this is morgan.
i finally found morgan.
but it doesn't seem as blissful as i'd expect a reunion to be. she doesn't remember me. what use is a consciousness without memories?
what am i supposed to yearn for now?
maybe, solstice, just maybe, i'll take your will to flee and finally do something with it.
- マルス (marusu)