HELLO, MY NAME IS SHAPESHIFTER. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?
NOTE: THE FOLLOWING DESCRIPTIONS CANNOT ACCURATELY BE DESCRIBED AS KINTYPES OR FICTOTYPES; AS A SHAPESHIFTER, THE FOLLOWING ENTITIES ARE SIMPLY THE FORMS I KNOW BEST.
I've already posted quite a bit about the forms I'm most acquainted with on this blog, but due to a terrible combination of insomnia and hypomania on this warm evening, I found myself typing out the "comprehensive guide" to my identity. Before I begin, please know that I can mentally shift into countless beings - if a figure in a painting or fictional character resonates with my soul, with what I call "the root" of every form I can take, I might shift involuntarily... and I never know at the time if it's a cameo shift or forever.
Please bear with me; I know I'm repeating myself quite a bit with this post... but I started this blog because I needed a place to express myself - fearlessly, and without shame. This blog is an act of defiance, and I'd like to thank you for being a part of it.
THE ANGEL: The angel in me is stoic... He's seen men lose their minds to drugs and lose their lives to suicide. He's been threatened with a knife, with a pair of scissors and with a hand to his throat. His name is Moshe, and all I just mentioned really happened to me - I've been abused, raped, threatened and rejected. He arose from years of trauma... tall, lean muscled, with long brunette hair and dark wings. From the backs of his hands to his shoulders are an array of eyes - in gold, violet, ice blue and emerald green. His voice is husky, friendly. He's Atlas at heart, but he doesn't talk about it. Not with anyone.
THE ALIEN GOD: Key... he's the result of psychosis. After two years of unchecked schizophrenia, I found antipsychotics that work for me - but Key is a part of me now. Around seven feet tall, with snowy white skin - his arms are longer than a human's and he's improbably slight. No fingernails or toenails. His lips and the inside of his mouth are green - so is his hair. He has red eyes, slit pupils and a birdlike voice... a smile that can turn from friendly to terrifying in an instant. Sometimes he has green wings and a spindly black crown... he has an avian personality called "pretty bird" and a divine personality without name, with a booming voice - he can even remove his face to reveal another, godlike face with two eyes, a nose, and an array of eyes where his mouth should be... when he does this, he wears the "normal face" as a necklace. He's an alien. He's a trickster god. He's torn between good and evil and is tormented by memories of eternity... noemata.
THE CANINE: I've had a canine self since I was only a preteen... like so many others, I first thought myself a wolf. I taught myself how to howl and was my school's "wolf girl." It took a long time to realize I was the loner, the scavenger on the fringes, a denizen of both the urban and wild places of this place. Scrawny and skittish, with amber eyes - belonging to no one and nowhere. I am a coyote. I don't know how it started, really... I guess I've always felt more canine than human.
THE COMIC BOOK VILLAIN: so many of us see ourselves in infamous villains like him... for better or worse, we identify with the rejection, bitterness and violent urges of the misanthrope. One day, I stopped identifying "WITH" the Joker. I started identifying "AS" the Joker... very specifically Heath Ledger's interpretation of the villain. It was the result of schizophrenia, of course... within the perpetual agony caused by hallucinations and delusions, I found peace in this identity. I was untouchable... I was free. In moments of torment, I stopped walking and started stalking. The voice of my internal monologue became disturbed, almost inhuman... the jokes I told to myself kept my head above water, and I didn't care how alone I was. Nobody knew I was suffering for over two years... they still don't know, really, even after I admitted myself to the hospital and sought help. Joker didn't surface as a coping mechanism; he's the result of mental illness... but I credit my survival to him. Because of him, I laughed so hard my ribs were sore.
THE MOURNER: I first read James O' Barr's "The Crow" after the suicide of my first love, and as a result I identified strongly with the titular character. Again, in the throes of debilitating mental illness, I began to experience drastic changes in personality. In a shift, my thoughts turned into poetry - very dark and symbolic, a mixture of pretty Gothic themes and violence. I was more graceful. My inner voice is low and melancholy in a shift, and this profound sadness is always with me.
THE SPIRIT: this form is a spirit associated with death, and he doesn't have a name that I'm aware of. His face is comprised of the skull of a wolf with the antlers of a deer. His body - a hunched skeleton with a still-beating heart - is shrouded with a tattered black cloak. He speaks with an old, crone-like voice and is best described as gentle and eccentric. He's a petty thief and hoards shiny rocks. This form first appeared in false memories caused by psychosis.
THE DEMON: I'm concluding this list with the demonic identity that has always been a part of me. Always. He hisses. He snarls and grimaces. He has an insane, even malicious grin, and it's triggered by dark, heavy music (Nine Inch Nails is the best example) as well as "creepy thoughts." Interpet that however you'd like. I don't know what he really looks like. The main thing I know about him is that he ultimately wants to use his violent urges and demonic traits for good - to help animals (dogs, specifically). He can't stand humans.
IN CONCLUSION, MY ANGELS, MONSTERS AND VIGILANTES FROM ALTERNATE UNIVERSES:
THANK YOU if you took the time to read the entire post. I know it's tedious; this post is just an elaboration on things I've discussed in previous posts. But as I stated earlier, I joined Tumblr out of this desperate, urgent desire to both explore my identity and express the parts of myself that even the ones I love most neither understand nor respect.
It's 10:30 PM, and I'm restless and sleepless and loveless and listless - but I love you more than you know. Good night.
- from "The Vague Diaries"
