Post by amouri on Jun 20, 2009 12:10:07 GMT -6
Things get monotonous, when one does not have the means to cope in normal ways. One cannot so easily entertain oneself, or settle oneself for that matter. At least not in my state.
And the state of the place I'm in makes it worse. What good can one do in an old alchemical research lab? What can one kill time with? Nothing really. Its just a question of how patient you are, before the next mindless intruder passes by.
I feel like, I would like
To be somewhere else doing something that matters
And I'll admit here, while I sit here
My mind wastes away and my doubts start to gather
Sometimes the silence makes me think, when nobody has anything of real importance to say. Not that it is usually important. Not here. Not now.
The silence scares me, because it holds the truth.
They say speech is silver, and silence is golden, but silence has never brought anything but doubt and unsureness to me. Whether what I'm doing is really what I should be doing...Or whether I could've prevented this from happening had I been wiser. Whether...whether I really am real, or whether its just a dream concocted by people superior to me.
"I mean, come on, how can we even prove that we have ever existed? Our bodies are gone, we're trapped in this hell-hole, and we can hardly call ourselves human."
There was a scraping as the young 79 stood up swiftly.
"Don't say that." He said, his voice trembling with anger.
"Say what? Its not like it isn't true. What if they executed the prisoners, and then decided to use their memories and personalities to created false murderers, creating the memory of the ritual to keep us under control? I mean, all this soul-business is getting to me. How can one prove that one even has one? Its all fake, we're nothing but experiments."
66 always reckoned it to be true. That we were nothing but imitations, living armour dolls to do their bidding. Normally we would shake our heads at him and laugh.
But when silence settled...that was when the creeping thoughts that brought disturbance to me came.
And if it really was true, then what was there to live for? Everything that had been of meaning to me was torn away from me along with my human body. But the question was not what there was to live for...the question was why I was still keeping myself alive.
Whats the purpose? It feels worthless
So unwanted like I've lost all my value
I can't find it, not in the least bit
and I'm just scared, so scared that I'll fail you
Ah yes. I was terrified, always concerned, whether you blamed me for it all. Whether it would have been different, had I been more like you and held back. We wouldn't have been in this mess.
And you wouldn't have been reduced to the state you were in, you would have actually been able to function without me.
And I always felt so terribly guilty, even though you never openly accused me for what I had done wrong.
Except that once.
"I've also started to wonder if anyone will come." 49 said.
"Seeking a battle never brings victory."
"Aw, come on, that day before we were arrested, we were gonna pick a fight. And boy, we sure did that."
"A brawl of fists is different to real combat. And don't speak to me of that day, it was your fault we got into this mess."
You didn't mean it, I know you didn't. But it hurt me in a way I can't describe, it made me realize how pathetic I was. How useless.
You would've been much better off without me, always the cool headed, always the calm figure. Like a rock in a storm you always stood straight and proud, whilst I was fighting the currents of aggression inside that would end up sweeping me away.
So I say if I can't, do something significant
I'll opt to leave most opportunities wasted
And nothing trivial, that life could give me will
Measure up to what might have replaced it
I give up easily, its always been in my nature. If something seems hard, or something seems lengthy, don't do it.
That was always my span of thinking.
And when that chance is gone-well, my chance went long ago. Nothing can make that exasperation of what I lost go away.
Too late look, my date book
Is packed full of days that were empty and now gone
And I bet, that regret
Will prove to get me to improve in the long run
I fake it, I kid myself and others by saying that I'm fine. That I'm coping well with the change the cursed alchemy had brought.
But on the inside, nothing could be more messed up than me.
I torture myself with the guilt-trips you refused to lay on me, the suffering I deserved for dragging you into this.
Self-punishment was the only way I felt I was making up to you, though I realize now how it pained you to see me like that.
Though I think I always knew deep down that what I was doing wasn't helping in the least.
But of course, you weren't entirely perfect either. I was secretly despising you for your lack of courage to remember who we were, to say it as it was. I needed that truth, that frail wisp of reality, but I just didn't realize that it was myself, and not you that had to deliver that. I didn't realize that you weren't just being a coward, you were protecting me from myself.
"Brother...why don't you call me by my name?" 49 suddenly inquired.
48 was taken slightly by surprise.
"Well...the-condition that we have been put in, does not exactly-"
He tried to find the right words.
"I don't feel we should be remembering those times, it only makes the now, and what is to come, harder to cope with. I won't let you fall subject to misery."
49 shifted again.
"How does forgetting oneself help that?"
"This subject is not what I had in mind. We are known as 48 and 49, let it stay at that."
His brother was about to say something, but hesitated.
"Fine."
I resented you. I admit it. And I know now how sickeningly wrong I was.
I notice, I know this
Weak is a symbol of how I use my time
Resent it, I spent it
Convincing myself the world's doing just fine
Without me
Doing anything of any consequence
Without me
Showing any sign of ever making sense
Of my time , it's my life
And my right, to use it like I should
Like he would, for the good
Of everything that I would ever know
I needed that mental kick in the butt to keep me going, I needed to hurt myself on the inside, I made myself think how well it did everyone else that they were rid off me, that yet another senseless criminal from the street had disappeared from their happy world.
But I still felt that I should be doing something else...something you would have done...but then I realized. You were doing what you had always done...being the secure point of reality I needed, you helped me see that who I had become would never change who I had once been.
Of course, the question of if I ever really had been anyone else still haunted me, for if it turned out to be true...Everything would go on as it had done. Nothing would change. Except my view on life.
And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all
But then you assure me
"I...I'm sorry brother. I did not mean to blame you." The oldest slicer said wearily.
"No no, you're right." his younger brother said quietly.
"It was my fault."
"NO, it was not. We were both to blame that day, I should have stopped you as my duty as an older brother. But I just let it happen."
Those words I felt at the time were a desperate lie, a twisting of the truth to avoid my own suicide. He knew I was thinking it, and I always thought that was why he had said it.
But now, when everything is over, I look back and I realize...that he was always silently pushing me on, being the pillar I needed to avoid being uprooted. Of course, it didn't help me, my non-existence now proves that, as death always tends to do.
But I realize now...that without him I would have diminished, I would have become something far less than a human being, far less than an animal. But you...you prevented that.
My brother.
I'm a little more than useless
And when I think that I can't do this
You promise me that I'll get through this
And do something right
Do something right for once
I'm waiting for you, and I now you'll come. We can never be without each over for long, its a fact. I ended my life there, though now I wish I hadn't.
If I could've stayed, we could have died together.
But instead I shattered my bond to the human world, and now I'm lost. I can't find my way. I can't see the light.
But I know when you come...It probably shouldn't be long now...when you come-you'll assist me, as you always did.
And that, is what brotherhood is about.
And the state of the place I'm in makes it worse. What good can one do in an old alchemical research lab? What can one kill time with? Nothing really. Its just a question of how patient you are, before the next mindless intruder passes by.
I feel like, I would like
To be somewhere else doing something that matters
And I'll admit here, while I sit here
My mind wastes away and my doubts start to gather
Sometimes the silence makes me think, when nobody has anything of real importance to say. Not that it is usually important. Not here. Not now.
The silence scares me, because it holds the truth.
They say speech is silver, and silence is golden, but silence has never brought anything but doubt and unsureness to me. Whether what I'm doing is really what I should be doing...Or whether I could've prevented this from happening had I been wiser. Whether...whether I really am real, or whether its just a dream concocted by people superior to me.
"I mean, come on, how can we even prove that we have ever existed? Our bodies are gone, we're trapped in this hell-hole, and we can hardly call ourselves human."
There was a scraping as the young 79 stood up swiftly.
"Don't say that." He said, his voice trembling with anger.
"Say what? Its not like it isn't true. What if they executed the prisoners, and then decided to use their memories and personalities to created false murderers, creating the memory of the ritual to keep us under control? I mean, all this soul-business is getting to me. How can one prove that one even has one? Its all fake, we're nothing but experiments."
66 always reckoned it to be true. That we were nothing but imitations, living armour dolls to do their bidding. Normally we would shake our heads at him and laugh.
But when silence settled...that was when the creeping thoughts that brought disturbance to me came.
And if it really was true, then what was there to live for? Everything that had been of meaning to me was torn away from me along with my human body. But the question was not what there was to live for...the question was why I was still keeping myself alive.
Whats the purpose? It feels worthless
So unwanted like I've lost all my value
I can't find it, not in the least bit
and I'm just scared, so scared that I'll fail you
Ah yes. I was terrified, always concerned, whether you blamed me for it all. Whether it would have been different, had I been more like you and held back. We wouldn't have been in this mess.
And you wouldn't have been reduced to the state you were in, you would have actually been able to function without me.
And I always felt so terribly guilty, even though you never openly accused me for what I had done wrong.
Except that once.
"I've also started to wonder if anyone will come." 49 said.
"Seeking a battle never brings victory."
"Aw, come on, that day before we were arrested, we were gonna pick a fight. And boy, we sure did that."
"A brawl of fists is different to real combat. And don't speak to me of that day, it was your fault we got into this mess."
You didn't mean it, I know you didn't. But it hurt me in a way I can't describe, it made me realize how pathetic I was. How useless.
You would've been much better off without me, always the cool headed, always the calm figure. Like a rock in a storm you always stood straight and proud, whilst I was fighting the currents of aggression inside that would end up sweeping me away.
So I say if I can't, do something significant
I'll opt to leave most opportunities wasted
And nothing trivial, that life could give me will
Measure up to what might have replaced it
I give up easily, its always been in my nature. If something seems hard, or something seems lengthy, don't do it.
That was always my span of thinking.
And when that chance is gone-well, my chance went long ago. Nothing can make that exasperation of what I lost go away.
Too late look, my date book
Is packed full of days that were empty and now gone
And I bet, that regret
Will prove to get me to improve in the long run
I fake it, I kid myself and others by saying that I'm fine. That I'm coping well with the change the cursed alchemy had brought.
But on the inside, nothing could be more messed up than me.
I torture myself with the guilt-trips you refused to lay on me, the suffering I deserved for dragging you into this.
Self-punishment was the only way I felt I was making up to you, though I realize now how it pained you to see me like that.
Though I think I always knew deep down that what I was doing wasn't helping in the least.
But of course, you weren't entirely perfect either. I was secretly despising you for your lack of courage to remember who we were, to say it as it was. I needed that truth, that frail wisp of reality, but I just didn't realize that it was myself, and not you that had to deliver that. I didn't realize that you weren't just being a coward, you were protecting me from myself.
"Brother...why don't you call me by my name?" 49 suddenly inquired.
48 was taken slightly by surprise.
"Well...the-condition that we have been put in, does not exactly-"
He tried to find the right words.
"I don't feel we should be remembering those times, it only makes the now, and what is to come, harder to cope with. I won't let you fall subject to misery."
49 shifted again.
"How does forgetting oneself help that?"
"This subject is not what I had in mind. We are known as 48 and 49, let it stay at that."
His brother was about to say something, but hesitated.
"Fine."
I resented you. I admit it. And I know now how sickeningly wrong I was.
I notice, I know this
Weak is a symbol of how I use my time
Resent it, I spent it
Convincing myself the world's doing just fine
Without me
Doing anything of any consequence
Without me
Showing any sign of ever making sense
Of my time , it's my life
And my right, to use it like I should
Like he would, for the good
Of everything that I would ever know
I needed that mental kick in the butt to keep me going, I needed to hurt myself on the inside, I made myself think how well it did everyone else that they were rid off me, that yet another senseless criminal from the street had disappeared from their happy world.
But I still felt that I should be doing something else...something you would have done...but then I realized. You were doing what you had always done...being the secure point of reality I needed, you helped me see that who I had become would never change who I had once been.
Of course, the question of if I ever really had been anyone else still haunted me, for if it turned out to be true...Everything would go on as it had done. Nothing would change. Except my view on life.
And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all
But then you assure me
"I...I'm sorry brother. I did not mean to blame you." The oldest slicer said wearily.
"No no, you're right." his younger brother said quietly.
"It was my fault."
"NO, it was not. We were both to blame that day, I should have stopped you as my duty as an older brother. But I just let it happen."
Those words I felt at the time were a desperate lie, a twisting of the truth to avoid my own suicide. He knew I was thinking it, and I always thought that was why he had said it.
But now, when everything is over, I look back and I realize...that he was always silently pushing me on, being the pillar I needed to avoid being uprooted. Of course, it didn't help me, my non-existence now proves that, as death always tends to do.
But I realize now...that without him I would have diminished, I would have become something far less than a human being, far less than an animal. But you...you prevented that.
My brother.
I'm a little more than useless
And when I think that I can't do this
You promise me that I'll get through this
And do something right
Do something right for once
I'm waiting for you, and I now you'll come. We can never be without each over for long, its a fact. I ended my life there, though now I wish I hadn't.
If I could've stayed, we could have died together.
But instead I shattered my bond to the human world, and now I'm lost. I can't find my way. I can't see the light.
But I know when you come...It probably shouldn't be long now...when you come-you'll assist me, as you always did.
And that, is what brotherhood is about.
---
This is a short thingie I made on the youngest Slicer brother
cus he needs way more attention. And this is SOOO his song.79 is an OC from my fanfic Bound by Blood if anyone is wondering xP
![Dorochet [Bido] Avatar](http://i657.photobucket.com/albums/uu294/thagreatcreator_god/a%20random%20stuff/everyday%20chaos/dorodoggie.jpg)
I really pitted younger Slicer though. So sad, especially the end. 
But all together great story. ^^
