Disclaimer and stuff. Seifer Almasy in no way belongs to me, neither does any of the other characters mentioned in here. I'm just a lil' fan girl, don't hurt me. The text in paranthesis are lyrics from Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb. He's not thinking them, they just went along with the mood. So, kabam, there ya' go.
(Hello? Is there anybody in there?) Jesus, where do I even start? I admitted myself into a psychiatric ward, to like, just try and be sane. Over the past few months I've been under some major stress, I've been having all of these demented nightmares about the things I've done...Anyways. I'm going to try to come to terms with all of the shit I've done to people, and to myself. Hell, maybe I'll come out a nice guy or something. Maybe...heh. Who knows though, right? I couldn't really ask anyone for help, I think I might be to far gone for that. I just....hurt. (Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?) You know? Like, I can't stop feeling bewildered and confused and suicidal all the time. What good have I ever done for anyone? It's just all a big mess....I don't even understand myself anymore.
(I hear you're feeling down...) I mean, God, I almost destroyed the world because of my own desire to be....almost, popular, if you could call it that. I can't really think of the word for it, but my "romantic dream" seriously put a bind on me. If only I could go back in time....and change everything. I never would have done the things I've done. I was just so...weak. (Well I can ease your pain, get you on your feet again.) And Edea, she totally used my passion against me, twisted it all around to make me be her puppet, her doll. And Squall was right, her lap dog.
Squall. God, I don't even know what to say about him. (Relax...I need some information first...). I was always so jealous of him....he had everything I ever wanted and couldn't have. Everyone looked up to him...I was just, a shadow. His shadow, I was that the thing you didn't want to see in the mirror. It's always been like that too, everyone always wanted to be something that dealt with Squall. He was just so...whatever, I can't even think of a word to describe him. He was everything I wanted to be, I just didn't know how to deal. So I picked on him, constantly. And he took it like the trooper that he is, displacing it and just all around thinking I was this jerk. But I didn't mean to be a dick to him, I really didn't. (Just the basic facts..) I was just so fucking jealous that he got everything I ever wanted. And why should he get it and not me? I always thought that, and he really deserves it though. And I hate to say this, but I really did like Rinoa. She was so, different. And look, she ditched me and ran into the arms of my arch-nemesis. Where is the justice in that? (Can you show me where it hurts..?) I almost died because of her, and look at the thanks I get. "Hey Seifer, you're cool and all, but I love Squall." Blah, that didn't make me to happy. I guess I was just supposed to learn from it all, I sometimes wonder, where was the lesson in it all.
So here I am, alone in this small room with bars over the windows. The sounds of life outside wreak havoc in my eardrums. The busy sounds of people living day to day, birds chirping, people calling to loved ones remains to be unheard. I forced them to give me a room viewing the lake outside, because I might really go insane if I don't have any contact with life. (There is no pain, you are receding.) The girl in the room next to me gave me a plant as a gift when I got here. It was just a simple little plant, in a pot of half dirt, half sand. She said my eyes reminded her of the green leaves, my limbs reminded her of the stems. It almost made me smile, but she's nuts too, so I don't really know her intentions. (A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.)
Am I really a masochist that I am doing this to myself? I'm inflicting torture upon myself, my brain. But I know it's good for me, I have to learn who I am, or who I am supposed to be. But I want to leave, I want to go home. At night, it gets so quiet that I can hear my own pulse reverberating in my ears, like that last sound someone hears before they die. I lay in this simple bed, my body shivering under the flimsy blanket. They actually had to restrain me to this bed because I freaked out and wanted to kill everyone in a ten mile radius, for seemingly no apparent reason at all. I guess old habits die hard, you know how it is. (You are only coming through in waves.) All I have in here to link anything to anything I know, is my trench coat. I've had that thing forever, it's almost like my security blanket sometimes. Maybe I'm just a nerd or something, oh well.
It almost feels like I'm not even here, like, I'm displaced from a stitch in time. Everything feels so ludicrous, like I'm on a bad acid trip or something. I'm tired of being alone, it's starting to hurt. Maybe that's just my head hurting, I don't know. All I know is that I keep seeing razorblades and candycanes dancing along in my head. Am I really crazy? Or am I just...at a loss? Have I come to an end, will I give up here, in this place? (Your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying.) Like, what the hell is this place anyways? It's a medieval torture chamber or something, making you confront your fears. And I am terrified...I may not let it be known, but hell, who likes to tell everyone what they're scared of, right?
I took a cold shower this morning, I let the water just run planes across my body. It almost felt like it was cleansing me from the inside out, ridding my tired body of all impurities and disease, the devilish haunts of my past careening smooth circles down the drain. (When I was a child, I had a fever.) Maybe I'm getting better? I went to this group therapy thing too, man, looking at these kids makes me feel so....insignificant. The girl who gave me the plant was there, and she was talking about how badly she wanted to fly. I guess some really bad things happened to her. (My hands just like two balloons.) She actually stood on the chair and stretched her arms out to her sides, saying how she just wanted to be a bird. I can relate...
Who am I kidding, anyways? Myself? I'm so tired of trying to convince myself of things that I'm not. Like this image I hold up? (Now I've got that feeling once again.) Well okay yeah, I am conceited and arrogant and everything else. But I mean, come on. I don't really like to intentionally hurt people, it just happens. I never meant to cause pain, but it was almost like my given birthright. I was a knight. I was powerful, I was disreputable. All I really wanted was the attention, I didn't care if it was love or hate. (I can't explain, you wouldn't understand.) It was just to feel....something. I was almost like a machine, and it hurts now to even think about it. Was I ever really alive to begin with? Was I just a pawn into some higher purpose? Did I lose my childhood and innocence in a quest to be the most powerful man alive? I've always been a dreamer, maybe I like to pretend I'm someone else, to escape from the harsh reality on what I've done, who I've hurt, whose body I tainted from my touch alone. (This is not how I am.) I sometimes wonder who the real Seifer Almasy is...
Maybe he's just some regular guy thrown into extraordinary situations. Or maybe he's really a lunatic, drowning himself in a hallow and void pool of self loathing and hatred. And all for what? Because I'm just a jealous kinda' guy? I don't know, but I can't say that I don't care.
Back to my fears. And I've known them all along, I just had to deny it for so long. I'm scared of being alone. (I have become comfortably numb...) There, I said it. Heh, and it's just like Squall. We're so different but we're so much alike, aside from the scars. And back to Squall again. (Ok, ok, it's just a little pinprick.) But I was almost happy when he delivered the same blow to me, matching me to him, so it appeared we had something in common. (There'll be no more..) I wanted to be so much like him, and the fact that we matched, almost drew me in closer to him, closer to his aura, his severity, his silence. Indeed....he's a lion...
(But you may feel a little sick...can you stand up?) And I'm....a lost cause. Well, I used to think that way a lot, but I think I'm starting to make some progress. It's been really exhausting, but I think I'm making sense of all the things I've accomplished in my eighteen years. (I do believe it's working, good.) It's almost...tranquil. Like, I wake up and almost want to get out of bed, which is more than I can say for myself earlier. (That'll keep you going through the show.) I look forward to a lot of things now. The rise of the sun, each breath I take, everytime I feel a small bit of physical pain that's just letting me know....Seifer...you're still alive and you're not giving up yet. Sure there's still some things that drive me nuts, like the fact that I can't seem to please anyone, the fact that I'm still a jerk. (Come on, it's time to go.) But I'm working on it...
I really didn't want to mention all of this to alot of people, because they might not understand. (When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse.) They might see me as something like, a scared and trapped little boy. (Out of the corner of my eye...) Lost, with no one's hand to hold. The reputation I've gained is all right by me, I just have to convince myself that I'm not lost anymore, that I have a purpose. And I'm slowly starting to believe it....
Sure, I've done some really horrible things in my life, and I'm not asking for pity or forgiveness. (I turned to look, but it was gone.) All I'm asking, is that I'm seen as a person, and I fuck up just like everyone else. I've been blamed for so much in my lifetime, and much of it I'd gladly take, because well, I'd most likely deserve it. Being in this place made me see, there's people a lot worse off than me, you know? Like the flying girl. I'm just all around confused, almost content with beating myself into submission.
I used to be such the sadist...dang. Fighting to me was almost like making love to your opponent, in a weird non-sexual way. That deep connection, like you're the only two people alive at that moment. It was like a terribly passionate dance with death, cutting every step in perfect time to the beating in our hatred stricken hearts. Or maybe my heart was the only one filled with hate, oh well, who cares.
So what have I accomplished in this whole ordeal? That I deserve to mess up every now and again, I can't be perfect. I've been suffering internally for so long now, it's my time to glimmer, be a star. It's taken so long to shatter the invisible barrier around my heart and soul, but I do believe it will just get better, everyday. (I can't put my finger on it now...) I may appear to be a cocky asshole, and well, that's true I am, but I go a bit deeper than that. I'm tired of running away from everything, makes me feel incompetent, and I know now that I'm not. I have to be strong for myself before I can be anything to anyone. And what am I to people? A fighter, I'm the crazy one, unpredictable, obnoxious, and a closet romantic....but don't tell anyone...
Wow...I just re-read this whole thing, and I wonder if it would make sense to anyone else but me. Who cares, I know what I'm feeling, my heart is racing, my thoughts are going 90 miles an hour, but somewhere deep down, it's quiet. I have a place waiting just for me when I get outta' here. That's where I'm supposed to be, and I'm going to get there. So, screw this little bed, I'm to tall for it anyways. I can say I learned a lot about myself in this place, remind me to thank the flying girl later. I never caught her name... Because she may not know it, but with that plant, she showed me I can learn to grow, I can live in a pot of dirt and sand too. Well, okay that didn't make sense, but I'm not all out to be poetic here.
Whoever is reading this is probably wanting a glass of bourbon and a shotgun by now. Hey, it's your damn fault for reading this whole thing, right? But if you read it all...that means you haven't given up hope on me yet, and for that I'm thankful.
My final realization is this; life is like a box of....I am so kidding. Hey come on, you didn't expect me to lose my sense of humor did you? That would be....so unlike me. All right, I've come to understand the fact, that everything I've done in my life, was for a personal gain, just for Seifer Almasy. Everyone I've hurt and everything like that. And I am deeply sorry for all the trouble I've caused. I just have to tell myself..."Hey, it's gonna' be all right kid." I won't be afraid. I can't be....
All right, and that's all I gotta' say. This sounds like a huge bitch fest and a rant, but I don't care. I couldn't really come out and say all of these things aloud. But whatever, I wrote it, same deal. So from here on out...I bid you au revoir. (The child has grown, the dream is gone, I have become...comfortably numb.)
(Hello? Is there anybody in there?) Jesus, where do I even start? I admitted myself into a psychiatric ward, to like, just try and be sane. Over the past few months I've been under some major stress, I've been having all of these demented nightmares about the things I've done...Anyways. I'm going to try to come to terms with all of the shit I've done to people, and to myself. Hell, maybe I'll come out a nice guy or something. Maybe...heh. Who knows though, right? I couldn't really ask anyone for help, I think I might be to far gone for that. I just....hurt. (Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?) You know? Like, I can't stop feeling bewildered and confused and suicidal all the time. What good have I ever done for anyone? It's just all a big mess....I don't even understand myself anymore.
(I hear you're feeling down...) I mean, God, I almost destroyed the world because of my own desire to be....almost, popular, if you could call it that. I can't really think of the word for it, but my "romantic dream" seriously put a bind on me. If only I could go back in time....and change everything. I never would have done the things I've done. I was just so...weak. (Well I can ease your pain, get you on your feet again.) And Edea, she totally used my passion against me, twisted it all around to make me be her puppet, her doll. And Squall was right, her lap dog.
Squall. God, I don't even know what to say about him. (Relax...I need some information first...). I was always so jealous of him....he had everything I ever wanted and couldn't have. Everyone looked up to him...I was just, a shadow. His shadow, I was that the thing you didn't want to see in the mirror. It's always been like that too, everyone always wanted to be something that dealt with Squall. He was just so...whatever, I can't even think of a word to describe him. He was everything I wanted to be, I just didn't know how to deal. So I picked on him, constantly. And he took it like the trooper that he is, displacing it and just all around thinking I was this jerk. But I didn't mean to be a dick to him, I really didn't. (Just the basic facts..) I was just so fucking jealous that he got everything I ever wanted. And why should he get it and not me? I always thought that, and he really deserves it though. And I hate to say this, but I really did like Rinoa. She was so, different. And look, she ditched me and ran into the arms of my arch-nemesis. Where is the justice in that? (Can you show me where it hurts..?) I almost died because of her, and look at the thanks I get. "Hey Seifer, you're cool and all, but I love Squall." Blah, that didn't make me to happy. I guess I was just supposed to learn from it all, I sometimes wonder, where was the lesson in it all.
So here I am, alone in this small room with bars over the windows. The sounds of life outside wreak havoc in my eardrums. The busy sounds of people living day to day, birds chirping, people calling to loved ones remains to be unheard. I forced them to give me a room viewing the lake outside, because I might really go insane if I don't have any contact with life. (There is no pain, you are receding.) The girl in the room next to me gave me a plant as a gift when I got here. It was just a simple little plant, in a pot of half dirt, half sand. She said my eyes reminded her of the green leaves, my limbs reminded her of the stems. It almost made me smile, but she's nuts too, so I don't really know her intentions. (A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.)
Am I really a masochist that I am doing this to myself? I'm inflicting torture upon myself, my brain. But I know it's good for me, I have to learn who I am, or who I am supposed to be. But I want to leave, I want to go home. At night, it gets so quiet that I can hear my own pulse reverberating in my ears, like that last sound someone hears before they die. I lay in this simple bed, my body shivering under the flimsy blanket. They actually had to restrain me to this bed because I freaked out and wanted to kill everyone in a ten mile radius, for seemingly no apparent reason at all. I guess old habits die hard, you know how it is. (You are only coming through in waves.) All I have in here to link anything to anything I know, is my trench coat. I've had that thing forever, it's almost like my security blanket sometimes. Maybe I'm just a nerd or something, oh well.
It almost feels like I'm not even here, like, I'm displaced from a stitch in time. Everything feels so ludicrous, like I'm on a bad acid trip or something. I'm tired of being alone, it's starting to hurt. Maybe that's just my head hurting, I don't know. All I know is that I keep seeing razorblades and candycanes dancing along in my head. Am I really crazy? Or am I just...at a loss? Have I come to an end, will I give up here, in this place? (Your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying.) Like, what the hell is this place anyways? It's a medieval torture chamber or something, making you confront your fears. And I am terrified...I may not let it be known, but hell, who likes to tell everyone what they're scared of, right?
I took a cold shower this morning, I let the water just run planes across my body. It almost felt like it was cleansing me from the inside out, ridding my tired body of all impurities and disease, the devilish haunts of my past careening smooth circles down the drain. (When I was a child, I had a fever.) Maybe I'm getting better? I went to this group therapy thing too, man, looking at these kids makes me feel so....insignificant. The girl who gave me the plant was there, and she was talking about how badly she wanted to fly. I guess some really bad things happened to her. (My hands just like two balloons.) She actually stood on the chair and stretched her arms out to her sides, saying how she just wanted to be a bird. I can relate...
Who am I kidding, anyways? Myself? I'm so tired of trying to convince myself of things that I'm not. Like this image I hold up? (Now I've got that feeling once again.) Well okay yeah, I am conceited and arrogant and everything else. But I mean, come on. I don't really like to intentionally hurt people, it just happens. I never meant to cause pain, but it was almost like my given birthright. I was a knight. I was powerful, I was disreputable. All I really wanted was the attention, I didn't care if it was love or hate. (I can't explain, you wouldn't understand.) It was just to feel....something. I was almost like a machine, and it hurts now to even think about it. Was I ever really alive to begin with? Was I just a pawn into some higher purpose? Did I lose my childhood and innocence in a quest to be the most powerful man alive? I've always been a dreamer, maybe I like to pretend I'm someone else, to escape from the harsh reality on what I've done, who I've hurt, whose body I tainted from my touch alone. (This is not how I am.) I sometimes wonder who the real Seifer Almasy is...
Maybe he's just some regular guy thrown into extraordinary situations. Or maybe he's really a lunatic, drowning himself in a hallow and void pool of self loathing and hatred. And all for what? Because I'm just a jealous kinda' guy? I don't know, but I can't say that I don't care.
Back to my fears. And I've known them all along, I just had to deny it for so long. I'm scared of being alone. (I have become comfortably numb...) There, I said it. Heh, and it's just like Squall. We're so different but we're so much alike, aside from the scars. And back to Squall again. (Ok, ok, it's just a little pinprick.) But I was almost happy when he delivered the same blow to me, matching me to him, so it appeared we had something in common. (There'll be no more..) I wanted to be so much like him, and the fact that we matched, almost drew me in closer to him, closer to his aura, his severity, his silence. Indeed....he's a lion...
(But you may feel a little sick...can you stand up?) And I'm....a lost cause. Well, I used to think that way a lot, but I think I'm starting to make some progress. It's been really exhausting, but I think I'm making sense of all the things I've accomplished in my eighteen years. (I do believe it's working, good.) It's almost...tranquil. Like, I wake up and almost want to get out of bed, which is more than I can say for myself earlier. (That'll keep you going through the show.) I look forward to a lot of things now. The rise of the sun, each breath I take, everytime I feel a small bit of physical pain that's just letting me know....Seifer...you're still alive and you're not giving up yet. Sure there's still some things that drive me nuts, like the fact that I can't seem to please anyone, the fact that I'm still a jerk. (Come on, it's time to go.) But I'm working on it...
I really didn't want to mention all of this to alot of people, because they might not understand. (When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse.) They might see me as something like, a scared and trapped little boy. (Out of the corner of my eye...) Lost, with no one's hand to hold. The reputation I've gained is all right by me, I just have to convince myself that I'm not lost anymore, that I have a purpose. And I'm slowly starting to believe it....
Sure, I've done some really horrible things in my life, and I'm not asking for pity or forgiveness. (I turned to look, but it was gone.) All I'm asking, is that I'm seen as a person, and I fuck up just like everyone else. I've been blamed for so much in my lifetime, and much of it I'd gladly take, because well, I'd most likely deserve it. Being in this place made me see, there's people a lot worse off than me, you know? Like the flying girl. I'm just all around confused, almost content with beating myself into submission.
I used to be such the sadist...dang. Fighting to me was almost like making love to your opponent, in a weird non-sexual way. That deep connection, like you're the only two people alive at that moment. It was like a terribly passionate dance with death, cutting every step in perfect time to the beating in our hatred stricken hearts. Or maybe my heart was the only one filled with hate, oh well, who cares.
So what have I accomplished in this whole ordeal? That I deserve to mess up every now and again, I can't be perfect. I've been suffering internally for so long now, it's my time to glimmer, be a star. It's taken so long to shatter the invisible barrier around my heart and soul, but I do believe it will just get better, everyday. (I can't put my finger on it now...) I may appear to be a cocky asshole, and well, that's true I am, but I go a bit deeper than that. I'm tired of running away from everything, makes me feel incompetent, and I know now that I'm not. I have to be strong for myself before I can be anything to anyone. And what am I to people? A fighter, I'm the crazy one, unpredictable, obnoxious, and a closet romantic....but don't tell anyone...
Wow...I just re-read this whole thing, and I wonder if it would make sense to anyone else but me. Who cares, I know what I'm feeling, my heart is racing, my thoughts are going 90 miles an hour, but somewhere deep down, it's quiet. I have a place waiting just for me when I get outta' here. That's where I'm supposed to be, and I'm going to get there. So, screw this little bed, I'm to tall for it anyways. I can say I learned a lot about myself in this place, remind me to thank the flying girl later. I never caught her name... Because she may not know it, but with that plant, she showed me I can learn to grow, I can live in a pot of dirt and sand too. Well, okay that didn't make sense, but I'm not all out to be poetic here.
Whoever is reading this is probably wanting a glass of bourbon and a shotgun by now. Hey, it's your damn fault for reading this whole thing, right? But if you read it all...that means you haven't given up hope on me yet, and for that I'm thankful.
My final realization is this; life is like a box of....I am so kidding. Hey come on, you didn't expect me to lose my sense of humor did you? That would be....so unlike me. All right, I've come to understand the fact, that everything I've done in my life, was for a personal gain, just for Seifer Almasy. Everyone I've hurt and everything like that. And I am deeply sorry for all the trouble I've caused. I just have to tell myself..."Hey, it's gonna' be all right kid." I won't be afraid. I can't be....
All right, and that's all I gotta' say. This sounds like a huge bitch fest and a rant, but I don't care. I couldn't really come out and say all of these things aloud. But whatever, I wrote it, same deal. So from here on out...I bid you au revoir. (The child has grown, the dream is gone, I have become...comfortably numb.)