Broken: Part Seven “Introspection and Analysis”

5/13/00

By: Hikari

E-mail to: [email protected]

Notes: None

All disclaimers apply.

 

*****

 

            It’s amazing how much area one could cover from aimless walking. That’s how I spent my whole night- I haven’t gotten any true sleep for ages, there is no point in trying to anymore. I’m atop one of those corporate buildings, the building itself- reaching for the sky in vain. So I’m not the only one. I’m not the only one shackled from desire. Ironically, I’m not sure as to what exactly it is I desire. I mean, what to fill this void from within- I don’t know how or what could do that. It used to be alcohol, but alcohol only blinded me further. What is it? What do I want?

 

            I round a corner of the edifice, not worrying about being seen through one of the darkened panes. There are a few pigeons roosting lazily on the concrete panel, blocking my way down this narrow aisle. I wanted them to take flight at the sight of me, but now that’s impossible. My situation is increasing vastly in its complexity, and the more I think about it- the facts I know seem to contradict the next. I bleed and feel, but I do not affect my surroundings. Others can’t see me, yet I see myself. I’m not dead, however, my existence is no longer known. Finally, no one remembers my presence, though the results of my being in the past are still in flow.

 

            Grimacing, I have to step over these dumb buzzards to get to the other side. I was itching to just kick them over overhang, but that would be futile. My foot would go straight through them. Besides… doing something as crude as that would hurt Yukina. She is no longer familiar of me, but it would be a waste to throw away everything she taught me… Like mercy.

 

            As I get past the disperse of feathers, and bird crap- I settle on one of the gargoyle statues. Its eyes were narrow and wicked- pupils contracted. It had sharp pointy ears, sticking towards East and West. His hair was carved in such a way, that it was wiry and fixed in all directions. He was nude and sickly, pitiful. His arms were lanky and stretched out, claws clutching onto the edge of the building. Hn. Among the others, it’s this only one I always go to to lean on. My chest makes contact to the cool stone, and my cheek is relaxed against his smooth, and at the same time, grainy back. My arms hang languidly from either side, the crisp wind fiddling and curling my fingertips.

 

It’s early into the morning, and the beams of light smother the city with what I assume to be heavens colors. The people below, however, make no heed to the sun’s traditional welcome- they are too engrossed with their own business to care. Everyone is rushing, running from place to place- honking his or her horns impatiently in traffic. The world is going by so slowly in comparison to these everyday happenings. My lids close, and I take-in the warmth. Even at this hour, it’s so noisy. This is part of the reason why I prefer to travel by height, to block-out the redundant racket… and to be able to think.

 

 I’ve taken into account that time comes in two forms. One, which is by feeling, and two which is by increments of seconds, minutes, hours, days, and so on. However, these two forms are not valid. For instance, anxiety lengthens time- when in reality; everything is going according to its set schedule. Pleasure, on the other end, is the direct opposite. Time goes by fast, and you wish it to last longer.

 

The same goes with thoughts and spoken thoughts. In the course of one minute, one idea leads to another; the outcome also comes in two forms. The first is the breaking of a puzzle. When the mind flies through facts and realizes, in a sense, a code. The second is generally relaxed contemplation, subdivided into two other categories. In one is possibility or imagination. The other is simple mental conversation. With spoken conversation, this type of mediating takes more time to compile. What can be uncovered in five minutes, winds-up taking from thirty minutes to more than three hours. This is why I work alone, I get far more accomplished. I’ve been telling myself this repetitiously so that I wouldn’t get distracted with useless standbys, and to avoid getting too close with anyone. If I get too close, that person almost always dies at my fault… otherwise, I would inevitably be betrayed. Some think I’m imprudent for believing this… but… look at my mother… my birth alone killed her.

 

So, I act aloof to remain strong and willful. I’ve practiced this ever since I could remember. As a consequence, on the occasion I meet with others- I cannot communicate. What I say comes out stinging and hostile, I offend people out of instinct. I have a lot to say that is actually worth listening to, but the problem is I can’t talk. I’ve excommunicated myself. Thus, everyone gets the most obvious impression on me. I’m cold, I don’t care, all I know is how to fight. The expressions on their faces when I appear is easy to read. Most of them are: “What a son of a bitch!” or “Have pity on him… he doesn’t know…” or “Oh… hi *smile*… I know you don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll just go back to what I was doing…” and finally: “Whoa… YOU’RE here?” My exterior is oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I’m sincerely ignorant. If that were the case, I wouldn’t know it when I’ve wounded someone’s feelings, or if someone else has. Still, I don’t say a word. Showing… affection… if that’s the right utterance, is a grave risk. There are those who plot revenge on me, they are fully aware that the best way to get what they want is by jeopardizing the ones I care for. To protect, I show no signs of emotion. When I do confide, information is slim. Often, I consider if I am pushing my chances with Kurama. He’s my first faithful companion, partner, and friend. I won’t ever forget him for helping me balance the weight on my back.

 

Eyes opening, I turn my head opposite to the previous, and slacken again. The shadow I cast moved only a mere fraction of a centimeter. That means eight to nine minutes have past- give or take a few.

 

No matter how much time I take to review what has befallen on me, or how many times I actually review, I come-up with nothing. There is no answer as to how this occurred. There is no logic, nor is there any being powerful enough to make this happen. I straighten my head, and stare down. The people walking along the sidewalks are nothing, but small specks from my view.  My lashes kiss each other, and two tears drip through- falling and disappearing into the world below.

 

“When it rains… how many souls cry, and yet are not heard?”

 

 I can barely make-out my own voice. The sound of it is grated and almost inaudible. I stand-up from my idle position, the wind blowing again- causing my cloak and tunic to move to the currents. The sound of their rustling has been the loudest thing I’ve heard all this morning. It’s curious how the crackling of cloth can be so blaring, more so since this is the first time I noticed. Strolling away from the gargoyle nonchalantly, I jump from the building. I plummet through thin clouds, Tokyo swiftly mounting in size. There is someone… someone I want to see…