I’ve been thinking about Adam experiencing overwhelming pain for the first time. It probably wasn’t something he experienced in Eden because that place was a paradise filled with friends, angels, and a world that cares what happens to you.
Outside of Eden is a different story.
Everything seems to hurt. Animals who were once precious friends suddenly want to tear you limb from limb to eat or protect themself from your presence, hunger and exhaustion are prevalent, and survival isn’t promised.
Maybe the angels had to put Adam back together a few times or Eve was the only one who sewed his skin closed and set his bones straight. Both humans probably made huge mistakes when dealing with the other’s pain because they didn’t understand exactly what to do in the moment and fear is hard to handle.
I can see Adam covering his ears the first time he heard Eve scream when she gave birth since it was the first time he’d ever heard one so bloodcurdling. I can see Adam holding his arms open to accept the usual embrace from a predator animal and it sinks its teeth into his into his shoulder. I can also see Adam and Eve trying to wake Abel up despite his head being crushed by Cain’s rock.
Living outside of Eden is painful. It has great things, too, but pain seems to be a near constant experience. Emotional or physical, it all weighs heavily on the psyche of someone who wasn’t designed to experience a life beyond paradise.
Or maybe it was designed for it. Maybe an angel purposefully put pain receptors in the blueprints because they needed a backup since they knew, deep down, that humans were weak and needed something to scream when it was all too much for them. The Archangels couldn’t always be there to catch Adam when he jumped from a waterfall and landed on jagged rocks, so something needed to stick in his mind not to do it again after everything healed.
I dunno. Maybe I’ll make a super short comic about it.
There will come a time when Russians will have to open their eyes as a nation and acknowledge their crimes against humanity, much like remnants of Nazi German had to. It will be a bitter pill to swallow after decades of propaganda that's been fed to them but the day is coming and it will be crushing.
Imagine thinking you're fighting on the side of good, only to later learn and realize your country kidnapped, killed, tortured and raped thousands of civilians. That while you lead a relatively normal life, your countrymen committed war crimes and you treated them like heroes. Like people who deserve praise and admiration because they're good and valiant when in reality they're just cogs in a murder machine run by your government that no one opposed hard enough to topple or even stop.
You'll realize you attacked another sovereign country on false accusations, that tens or hundreds of thousands of people, including innocent civilians, died, were misplaced or went missing because of your country. That you've caused immense humanitarian suffering. It will be hard to swallow, it will be crushing, but that's the truth you'll have to live with for the rest of your lives.
This is BLISS, right here. Walking in circles, munching on peanuts (always making sure to lick the salt off the shells too, of course), and sipping on this cup of tea. Whatever that magic is that got infused into that venom sample, it's surprisingly sweet, like... A light, rose hip flavor. I wish I could do this all night, but I know my legs are gonna get sore eventually. Until then, though, I get to enjoy the calming tune that plays as my talons tap against the hardwood floor, coupled with a wonderful solo from my heartbeat. I wish I had tile floors. There's no loose planks to accidentally step on and make that jarring creaking noise. Nothing to ruin my tune...
Stars, I'm getting sleepy already... It hasn't even been two hours yet...? That magic must have been some really strong stuff...
Alright, birdy, get yourself in bed...
The nest is extra comfy tonight, huh?
Just curl up, and relax... There we go...
I find myself in an endless field of... Flowers...? It's... Calm. No stress, no pain... Just serenity. It's almost surreal, actually. I mean, all dreams are surreal, that's kinda the point, but this... This is something else.
The sky is a vast nothingness.
I'm...
I'm free.
I can't believe it.
My nightmares, they're cured...!
MY B ACK
SPLIT TING
OP EN
VISI ON... BLU RRY.
MI ND SHATTE RING.
MAKE IT STOP.
I wake up in a cold sweat. I've never experienced pain in a dream so...
Real.
Those scars from my amputation... How could I possibly have nightmares about that? I was only a few hours old when my wings were...
...
My nest is covered in magic. I'm bleeding, where am I bleeding? Get up, feathers, get up, get up.
Check the bathroom mirror, inspect your body for injuries.
As I look in the mirror, I'm met with a gruesome sight. The scars, they've burst open... I have a gaping hole in my back... I... I must be in shock, I can't feel the pain at all. And there's... Surprisingly little blood, for such a large gash...
...
... This is stupid, but I think that, if I just... Keep it cleaned and covered... I can still go to work just fine, at least until I can get it properly looked at on Sunday...
A week had come and went since Georgiana crawled from the bed in which she'd been interned to ride out her life's greatest suffering. The vampire a recluse during the first few days of her freedom, then preoccupied tying up loose ends until now. Satiating her hunger, a thirst that would've killed him had she foolishly come here first, and swallowing her pride to thank those who had been kind enough to visit her. The company of her friends the vampire's only reprieve from her agony. A title she hadn't exactly bestowed upon Seo-Joon before that night, as Gia had, privately, just been referring to him as lunch. It was undeniable now, she thought, that he was more than lunch to her. As the single, greatest measure of ease she felt during the wolf bite, had come from him. Her friend.
She was afraid to ask how he knew what to do . Simply because she knew she didn't have to. It was written all over his face, in a metaphorical sense, and all over his body in a literal one. She'd thought as much since their first encounter, on the beach, that he looked perpetually war torn. Georgiana appeared much the same now, as the vampire leaned against the door way of his domicile, looking like her old self, well dressed and without a hair out of place, but the truth of her reality evident in her eyes. Their molten color flat in their vacancy of life.
The text she sent before her arrival as brief as any before. A proposed time and a question mark. She didn't say she came bearing gifts, though she did. Two, unmarked, bags full in her hands. "Salut." A greeting of intent, as it paid nod to a night they'd spent together during the snow storm. Recent in time although a millennia had passed since then in her mind. The woman that stood before him now a different one than that night or any other. Even if she didn't know it yet.
Posting on my vent blog kind of made me wonder if we've Found any traumacore arts from historic eras. Like, as long as you have a diary, you're capable of writing "you made me feel dirty."
What words did they write, what pictures did they draw. What art did people who were tortured, raped, abused DO before now? And I wonder if any of it survived. I wonder if anyone who found it thought it was of any import. Like yeah, in terms of political history, it's meaningless, but the lives of real people are the world.
