its very crunchy, how this party discusses and shares so openly, and sometimes it seems like it does nothing, against the weight of everything that presses upon them.
they are- affectionate and curious, they poke and pry into each others issues and casually bond over- oh well this bit of my life was terrible. this loss was tragic. this experience sucks. i can't sleep. i feel like i don't like how people refer to me. friends is a complicated word, i try to avoid it. im kind of worried about the woman in my head. i didn't feel like i needed anyone. most nights i miss him. im angry. im angry.
they talk, and talk, about their issues, more than anyone can expect, but the things they talk about don't just go away after. Imogen grits her teeth through another shitty nights sleep and a wave of thoughts crowding into her head, and her hands spark with solutions that are harsh and final. Laudna smiles and compliments and the whispers aching at the back of her skull keep getting louder. Chetney takes hits and feels bloodlust growing through his skin. Ashton lives and breathes his rage, keeps himself moving with it, kindness lining the edges of it. Fearne walks a line only she can see, and the anger that swells up is so foreign it seems like it can only burn out of her. Orym wears his heart on his sleeve and his grief in his sword, duty and protectiveness honed to a deadly point. And F.C.G, now- silent numbers, cutting blades and cutting words, locked away until they suddenly aren't.
Powder kegs. Powder kegs. Powder kegs. They can share, they can warn, but the gunpowder keeps accumulating.
Ashton says, Orym says, we're all pretty fucked up! We've all snapped! We can't let that rip us apart. They're all fucked up. they know that. they've known that, from the start. Sharing about it wasn't the issue.
We gotta keep it together. We have to be better together. Its not just about self forgiveness, its not just about facing your demons, its about grabbing them and wrangling them into line. We're all fucked up. We're all trying. It hasn't always been enough.
Its about- god knows we've each been fighting to keep ourselves in line. one way, or another, forever.
Its about keeping each other in line. Because we have to. A steadying hand- a firm one.
"Why don't we just try and fix each other very, very, fucking slowly."
snowghoul
kaledo-art
germansingergirl
