Do as you please.

For my kin related bullshit.

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I respect traditions. I often enjoy them. Do they always have to be the exact same?

Why couldn't we have white wine in the goblet instead of red wine?

Why couldn't we have blackberries on the platters instead of grapes?

I understand symbolism and representations in images from old stories. I find them fun, images from old stories. Do those symbols and images have to be the only things there?

In that way I'm glad I have a new life with old memories, I'm able to keep traditions but also experiment based off them. Create a stronger tradition that will last long after I perish and forget.

Establishing a tradition within my bloodline, somewhere ahead of me, to pay respects to the life I used to have.

That is my goal in this life.

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My back aches, where are my wings?

My head is pounding, where is my halo?

My legs are weak, I don't want them.

My eyes are few, where are the rest of them?

I want my wings, I want my halo, I want my eyes.

I want my life back, give me my life back.

Give me back my smooth flying.

Give me back my calm head.

Give me back my wide vision.

I want my life as an angel back.

Can I have my life back, sir?

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Why do I have to think about that now? Why do I have to think about him now? I don't want to think about him like this, dad said it's wrong and it's gross and I'm not allowed to. I can't go against him, he's my dad, he runs the church AND the cult, what am I going to do against them, let alone him?

Why can't I be better? Why couldn't I be straight like a good boy. Being trans was bad enough, I can't put that pressure and terror onto my mom again. It's my fault she isn't here with us anymore, yet she visits for me. She visits ME, not dad. I'm the cause of her pain, how can she stand me?

How can she stand me, of all people? How can he stand me? How can they stand me? How can I stand me, let alone... How... How can he stand me?

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Why is it always me? I know I'm just a joke to most kids and adults, I get that my brother is a shithead, I know my poor sister needs to just get out, but what about me?

I've never involved myself, they've never pulled me into it, why the fresh fuck do I get the ass ends? My poor sis doesnt ever deserve it, my asshole brother deserves it half the time at least, but what about me? I know I cant judge that myself, but why does it feel more wrong than Lucifer getting shunned?

It still hurts, every time. I dont know why me, but... I know how to deal with it. Have known for a long time. But it still hurts like nothing else.

They always forget, except that one. He's blonde too, I thought it was a blondie thing, haha... No... It's just... Him, for some reason. I wish it was my sister, or my own damn mother. Not... Him... He... He doesnt deserve it, any of it. He's bad off as a single child with horrid parents, he doesnt need memories of me biting the dust every other week alongside it.

I'm.. Still happy to have at least someone, at least one person to talk to. Guess there's that, yea?

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I want to know why I miss him. Why do I miss him?

He's wormed his way into my heart as if it were mud. He sunk his teeth in just far enough for me to crave it more than any gorgeous taste I've ever experienced.

He kisses so delicately sometimes I can't feel his lips brush the wounds. He smiles so softly yet brightly I'm surprised that he hasn't been ruined by this disgusting two faced world AND that I haven't gone blind yet. It's all a miracle.

He's a miracle. But he's also the first. Why him? Why would I meet him when I did, in the way that I did?

How could I ever deserve someone so...

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Ok so something I really don't appreciate is the fact that nobody seems to think anymore.

I know, I know, "but you don't either" and "you're just a bloodthirsty monster" AND "you don't give a rats ass about anybody but yourself and your company" ok? I get it, shut the everloving fuck up.

I know all the bad stuff that's happened to me doesn't excuse everything if anything I did.

I didn't ask to be dealt a shitty family deck, if you wanna call it a deck. I didn't plan on killing the Meriff, he tried to kill me first. I didn't want my best wife to be murdered, the bandits caught me off guard. I didn't want to die... I... Wanted to... Clean up. Everywhere. Just. Starting with Pandora, ya know?... It was closest to Helios. To me... Then I went and died, like an idiot.

I got way off track, I'm sorry, I'll show myself out.

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Hey, so, I get that birds of a feather flock together AND the birds in your flock that share your interests and such are more likely to understand your troubles, trials and tribulations than birds outside your flock, but damn it, why my friends???

I'm not going to name them since they know where I live and I don't wanna risk anything, let alone my life, but FUCK the betrayal in my life alone for this one thing is thicker than the entirety of Lion King. No joke. It's so stupid.

I mean, I know I don't state the wicked fact like my Bro does, but I don't want to, I don't care what you call me, just be cool with it, be chill. Also, maybe, just maybe, there were physical complications so I had back issues before I was supposed to because of some stupid genes from my Bio Mom.

My Bro was supportive as shit and helped me change a bit and go on some stuff, but stayed firm on the other part, which is fine, age restrictions, safety related shit, that's fine, I'm cool.

One friend was supportive as shit cause of their sib going through something similar, but kinda the opposite way? Another was supportive as shit cause I was happy and comfy with my body, full positive beam as usual. When I eventually told my crush, a guy, this one dork, about it, he was confused about it but once he got it he was so happy and I was over the fucking moon.

Went downhill from there. First it was a dip n plateau of confusion and mild uncomfort, which is fine enough, I can deal, it happens, isn't their fault that they don't know human stuff, but certain grub fuckers decided I should make like Sans and have a bad time. Just like Sans, I was dead, but figuratively, of course.

Had to spend two weeks just hiding away in my bedroom BACK IN MY HIGH RISE IN ARIZONA, no one knew where I lived there, that's why I went. They knew my chum handle, sure, but I didn't talk to many. It was so uncool.

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My sleep schedule was always horrendous, but it's gotten worse with Quarantine. Why? Because I have no obligations, no schedule I have to keep, nothing like that.

I need to find things to do, but I'm not good at anything, despite what Patton always says... What Roman and Logan sometimes say... I've gotten worse.

My bad habits are coming back again and no one will like me again if this keeps up, but this time they'll all make sure to never say it around me or Patton.

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The way I am sitting alongside how my blankets are set up and what I'm wearing reminded me of something I did not want to be reminded of, but am remembering anyways.

This general bedtime set up reminded me of a little something that almost everyone would do when... A... Certain event... Happened... -ahem- Passionate hugging, let's say.

Full disclosure, the outliers were Patton, Remus and sometimes Virgil, though I don't blame Virgil in most cases.

Virgil in some cases, along with Roman and Janus in all cases, they would pamper, treat, abandon, then act as though it never happened until the next time. Patton and Remus would always pamper, treat, stay, then reassure before moving on from it, which makes me very very happy. Virgil would do it sometimes.

I can't entirely blame him for the times he was bitter and dismissive, but it still hurts for the most idiotic of reasons...

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I have troubles with emotions. That isn't a problem. I am prone to severe emotional breakdowns due to the fact that I am always unsure on how to deal with my emotions regardless. That is a problem. I don't need this, ever. They don't deserve this, ever.

I'm supposed to be the anchor here. When everything and everyone else is going haywire, I am supposed to be there for them and fix it, whatever it is. I shouldn't be allowed or able to be yet another complication to make the mess messier.

I almost always miss them, I do, every last one, almost all the time, but I doubt half the time most of them miss me.

It hurts. It aches. I can't tell what it is anymore, but it hurts and aches. It also yearns. It yearns for them, even though I very highly doubt I will be able to find any of them, regardless on if they're searching for me still or not. But, I know the yearning is ridiculous. I know that it's a cry for attention, since I'm such a seeker, call me a Potter...