jak
There's a certain element taking the lead in every soul, mine is black. Black like my tortured soul, black like the black eco that makes everything go black when I lose control. Oh, everything is so black, black like my tortured soul.
All those conformists can see the blackness, but they can't understand it. They can't see that black is a shade that needs to be washed away with love and acceptance, not something to fear and poke fun at. "Eco freak!" they cry, laughing it up before they bolt realizing that I could destroy them in a second if I wanted.
Conformists...
daxter
Jak never used to be so utterly pained by the world in every second that passed by. It's like there's a veil over his eyes, his pained angry eyes. Oh those eyes are so raw with tortured emotion that if you look hard enough you can almost feel the pain yourself. You can feel it all, oh how it feels to be a tortured soul.
I can relate because I'm not the only one affected by the darkness, as much as I try and try to hide it my impulses and emotions also are out of whack with the dark eco still coarsing through my veins all these years after I feel into the pool. I fear that I will never be the same as I was and have once even tried to commit suicide, but then I realized that I must tough it out for Jak, if nothing else.
jak
Oh the pain, there is no end to my suffering. But at least I have someone to suffer through it all with. Daxter, I would have killed myself long long ago if it weren't for you. My little ray of sunshine. I think I am starting to fall in love, and it scares me so. I fear rejection, I fear the way that kind of an emotional blow would ruin any chances of me ever finding solace within. Oh precursors, this razor glides gently up and down my arm, teasing me with eternal rest but I must not.
Instead I must face another day hunting down another small army of metalheads. On the way there I consider just letting them win me over, the feeling of my tortured soul wanting to escape my body is so intense I cannot concentrate. Before I reach the pack I stop to quickly write a haiku, venting my sorrow.
Engulfed in blackness
I cant continue living
The afterworld waits
daxter
That metalhead pack was an easy defeat, but something strange happened on the way. I was chattering away, trying to forget my sorrow and the danger we were in and all of a sudden everything stopped. "Huh?" I questioned to no avail.
Jak pulled out this piece of paper and a pen and wrote something, took him like five seconds and then we were on our way again.
"What the hell was that about brother?" But still no reply.
Oh well, maybe he remembered something he needed to put on our grocery list and didn't want to forget. It figures the guy would be so aloof to the incoming metalheads that he'd do something like that.
Now I lay here in bed comprehending the extent of my frayed heart, so frayed it can never be healed. I keep hugging him harder and harder almost unrealizing as my thoughts become so intense I am in a death grip. Holding on to all I have that is dear to me.
Jak
This morning I finally told Daxter the truth about my feelings for him and it turned out okay. He cried and told me of his tortured soul, I wailed and did the same. Then we realized that yes, we are a duo who will never be separated. Never. We can both agree that there wouldn't be enough razors in the world to heal the pain if the other died. It will be an awkward relationship until he is truly an elf again. But that's okay.
Now those conformists crying 'dark eco freak' and the harsh blackness of this world can't even touch me inside. It is a time of healing, although I still like cut myself sometimes. I told Daxter this and promised that I'd stop cutting and take up smoking instead so that there's no immediate risk of death, just a slow eventual one.
I am so happy.
