#muted-chroma

VOLCANION IS IN FACT FIRE/WATER

MMKAY

I'LL STOP WHINING NOW. 

So...I need to add people for Friend Safari.

Name's Justen. FC: 1160-9913-7334

Over the years I began to consciously subvert and suppress my feelings. Anger, sadness, fear, all of these very valid emotions were locked away. I decided that I didn't enjoy feeling these and buried them. I thought I was happy and doing something right if everyday I come smile and listen. If I felt some negative emotion about someone, I would think about it and placate myself.

It wasn't perfect and sometimes I would break. When this happens I was afraid of what I would do to someone, not so much myself. So I would hurt myself as a form of penance and I carried my doubts on my shoulders. As these actions guided my train of thought, I found a way to hide from people without having to physically do it. In conversations, I just smile and chuckle, things to make people feel and ease, so that they will leave me alone.

I thought it was the right thing to do, but it has only made me selfish. Even more selfish that I was and I try to make penance. It is a vicious cycle that I have lost myself to. I've friends that aren't friends and people I barely know who I would gladly give the shirt off my back to. I'm lost and there is no one to lead me. Days go by when I ignore the world and my responsibilities. I don't care what happens to them right now or anything for that matter. My lack of empathy and compassion is a weakness, not a strength and it is hampering my personal growth. 

Silver, a magical metal of arcane usage, comes to replace our once golden tongue. Where our original was soft and malleable, unable to hurt another with the words it spews, our silver tongue is sharp. It knows exactly where to cut and only grows better at its job as we age. 

However, not all tongues share the same fate. Some harken back to their days of old, of our youth and are once again recast into an amalgamation of silver and gold. Some remain silver and others still tarnish. Those who are tarnished speak something that is worse than truth and pain. Silence. A lack of sound so loud that silence is a poor term to describe it. Tarnished tongues are black and the nothing that emanates from them is debilitating.

It seems to follow a pattern. Overcome the most difficult part, then bask in the glory of the victory. Slide down that slope, and end up back where one began. Life. Cyclic as a circle, as unstable as the season's length. Can I not escape the pattern? Struggle, Overcome, Struggle, Fail, Repeat. It is a tedious dance that I walk everyday of my life and I grow weary. Weary of trying to become something I am not, but getting so close that it seems worth it. Weary of trying to prove something, when in reality, no one cares. Just weary of it all.