Psychic Striations

Well...from dark to light, and all the shadowy hues in between. I'd forgotten how much music soothes me, and playing the piano can ease my pain. That'd be much easier to do if my piano was in closer proximity to me. But I'm done sulking. I've decided to hone my skills with words. Specifically, the English language. My French is proficient enough. It can stand some rusting. The eternal dance of the sun and the moon manifest themselves through my emotions. Went through the motions of alcohol and overdose the past few days. I'm surprised I managed to regain consciousness at all. What with R calling, I should have knocked back a few more. *shrugs* I don't know. Some days I feel so light, I am a veritable ray of light floating through the world lending my shine to those who've fallen. Other days, I feel so terribly dark and moody I scare the socks off anyone who has the misfortune to cross my path when I'm spitting lightning bolts and my claws are unsheathed. The darkness wells up time and again, and always my defenses are in place to hold it at bay. But sometimes I wonder...what if for once...it escapes my loose hold? Well, few have ever known the answer to that and spoken to me about the life-scarring event. A momentous occurence, I'm sure. Anyway...the darkness inherent in me has receded slightly, and suddenly I find the light does not irritate me as much. Everyone keeps alluding to my talents, and exhorting me to put them to good use...but then...so what if I have a good grasp of language? So what if I can read notes and play them? I can't find any school that is willing to accept me on account of two commonplace abilities. My pen-is mightier than the sword! Even Arthur and his fabled Excalibur have no chance against said artifact. =P Notice how I deliberately hyphenated the two words, so that I can't be accused of twisting completely normal words into perverse meanings. I'm taking up the pen again...and writing furiously. To everyone that I have locked outside my cage, I'm sorry, but I needed some downtime to sort out the mess that some people like to call a life. Alcoholic binges don't help, I know that. I'm not an idiot, regardless of my actions whether drunk or otherwise. But at the very least...I managed to spend two days mostly unconscious and therefore immune to the mighty god Depression. And now that I've regained a tiny portion of my spark, I have decided it is time I healed the wounded to balance out my karmic account. *shrugs* I've decided to go home tomorrow and grab this bull by the horns. Parents, look out, because I am on a roll. By the time I am done, you will both be talking again, and if I hear the slightest hint of dissent, heads will roll. Because I am tired of people zooming past me as though I am invisible. Here are my wishes, plain and simple. No frills, no loopholes. I want my piano. Period. Non-negotiable point. I must have paper, pen, my piano. As much as I need air to breathe. Those are what sustains my soul. I don't need food all that much, I eat when I feel like it (I am not anorexic please) but these three things I must have. My feelings regarding the evils of money are mixed and varied. I probably wouldn't need it all that much anyway, as long as my basic needs are met. Considering how I'm spending all my money on my piano, it should give you an indication of how important music is to me. Without my usual six hours on the piano, my skills are beginning to rust, as today's expedition to the Esplanade proved. This must be remedied immediatement. Therefore, I need my piano and very little else. Simple request. If necessity demands it, I will draw up a schedule of when I am to return to the soil of my origin. I will not mince my words, in the spirit of brutal honesty and all that. I don't want to go home. Where I have to compete with everyone for some breathing space. In that cramped kingdom, power struggles are commonplace. I have therefore bowed out of the endless battles between all the major powers, and moved on. I have created my own kingdom here with the darkness as my escorts and companions. Now I grow weary of the shadows, and I long for the warmth only a piano can bring to me. This move has been dragging on for a long time because of my reluctance to step up to the plate. I will wait no longer. I can bloody write, and when I am not writing, I would expect one to find me seated at the piano honing my skills. Pen, paper, piano. The three essentials that I need to keep myself balanced. That is all that my soul needs for peace. Now...my mind needs peace too. I want my parents to talk to each other again. I recognise the problem lies with my mum and her explosive temper (fire runs in our family) but I can not for the life of me think of how to put it across in a subtle non-accusatory manner. I've been calling her at least once a day, trying to get her to call my other 'rent. I'm not speaking to my dad, because of stupid reasons. Mostly because we keep missing each other's attempts to reconnect and regain lost ground. *shakes head* That's not the problem. My mum has already given her okay to move the piano...it's the other one who's on shaky footing. *sigh* I am...unique, non? I have at last count...2 mums and 3 dads, biological folks not inclusive. Sometimes it's just so hard trying to keep everyone on terra firma. Ok, I'm done blabbering now. *zip* Thanks, Kenneth. You've been ever so patient with my erratic moods. And Phoebe! The Star in a deck of cards represents hope, and you my dear...are truly a Star avatar. =) The night winds down...and my energy swirls away, lost in a cloud of darkness that is gone in the blink of an eye. It is time I curled up in my corner and went to sleep instead of passing out as has become the norm for me.