There was a time a while ago that we talked about the worst we’ve ever felt, and how incomprehensible suffering can be.
About how it feels like it’s an abstract. Something beyond you or anybody else.
Chasing after something that’s beyond your reach. Thinly veiled desires to die.
…Of course, none of this comes without the obvious disclaimers. Both he and I extensively reassured the other that it wasn’t like that now - even if there were relapses, it wasn’t like that now.
But since coming here, and dealing with all of this stress, there have been relapses. Both he and I.
Believe me, watching the way he acted in Fuyuki during that one Singularity was… remarkably difficult. For the both of us. I understood why he felt the way he did. I really, really, honestly do. At the same time, watching him struggle, watching him lambast his younger self - I felt an inescapable sense of wanting to cry and tear the world apart because of what he had to go through. How severely he hated his younger self and thought of himself in such a way that was unworthy, unworthy, unworthy. Watching him speak directly to his younger self with insult after insult. Watching him panic as he found out the person he looked up to the most suddenly wasn’t very impressed with his behavior. He behaved in a way that’s not logical nor one that can be easily reached out to. If you understand how he feels, though, there’s a chance you can understand the mystery of why he’s behaving this way.
I understand why he feels this way. I have difficulty forgiving myself, too. It’s because I can’t forgive myself that I can’t even express my self-hatred in a way that’s … with words or actions. I just stand there and freeze up, sacrificing my body, letting what runs in my existence wreak havoc. I don’t have a face anymore; so no one gets to see me cry. No one gets to see me have emotions on my face. All of what I’ve experienced in my life is beyond so much of what a normal person could survive. I’ve been told that when I am suffering that I express it incomprehensibly. That’s fine. That’s simply a reflection of what I’ve experienced. The incomprehensible begets the incomprehensible. I create myself and my agony into a mystery. I get on stage and begin my work of performance art. This is the only way I can express to people simply how beyond the scope of any person’s capabilities I’ve lived.
This is the only way I can cope with why I had to survive through all of this.
“…You can show me your crying face, you know? I won’t say you’re ugly or anything like that. I promise.”
He whispers to me as I stand before him, abstract. Body overflowing with curses and oracles and prophecies. He takes my face in his hand.
And he unwinds the mystery I’ve created.
I hope you’re all ready for another riveting round of MENTAL BREAKDOWNS!!!
