Sometimes what you do is wrong. And you know it. You know full well your actions are wrong, they're disgraceful, they're unacceptable.
But unacceptable to whom?
To whom in this world does one have to make himself acceptable? A married man would answer "My wife and kids." A bachelor, "My friends and the girl next door." Almost everyone one will ask has someone to live for.
Excuse me. Everyone has someone to live for.
One's self.
If what you do can't be accepted by yourslf, it's time to question your actions.
Somewhere I Belong
A fic by Strawb-sama
Notes: I don't own Wei§ and Linkin Park's "Somewhere I Belong".
He lay there. Again. He lay there in bed. Again. He lay there in bed fighting insomnia.
Again.
In the past three hours, Naoe Nagi had become well aware that there were 346 dots on his ceiling, 11 formed a constellation of a computer, and another 61 formed what looked scarily like Crawford's face. Complete with the glasses. After 1611 sheep had jumped over the fence, a devil image on himself had blown up the fence with a hand grenade.
Did he even have an angel image?
When this began
I had nothing to say
His line of work hadn't ever been his fault. Nagi could clearly recall the day he was literally picked up off the sidewalk by one Bradely Crawford, kicking and screaming at the American. He'd never chosen to be some evil assassin.
Ah, said the Devil-Nagi inside his head, but you chose to stay.
And he hated it.
And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me
I was confused
And I'd let it all out to find that I'm
Not the only person with these things in mind
Inside of me
Ever since then, what relieved him, what he took solace in, was the music. He'd decided that there was nothing like a a random song one would discover, and itÕs pit oneÕs mood perfectly. It made one feel better about oneself. The boy felt, when lost in the world of his own CDs, that he was not alone.
He was, though.
He was the only "bad guy" that didn't want to be.
I don't mean just not be a bad guy. Naoe Nagi didn't want to be at all.
He had nothing, and wanted either everything or the end.
But all the vacancy the words revealed
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel
Nothing to lose
Just stuck, hollow and alone
And the fault is my own
And the fault is my own
He sighed and rolled over to face his stereo. Why not? Why couldn't he have everything? He had nothing. He wanted either everything or the end. And why did it have to end? It could go that way, but why couldnÕt Nagi get everything he wanted?
"What do I want?" he said aloud.
I want to heal
I want to feel
What I thought was never real
I want to let go of the pain I've held so long (erase all the pain till it's gone)
He knew, and yet did not. He wanted anything but the life he led. He did not know what life he'd rather have. He wanted to forget all his painful memories. He did not know what kind of new memories to create and use as a replacement. He wanted to have a storybook life. He did not know what the chapters would be called.
But the setting would not be at 3:41 am in the Schwarz mansion in Tokyo, Japan. It'd be somewhere he belonged.
I want to heal
I want to feel
Like I'm close to something real
I want to find something I've wanted all along
Somewhere I belong
Confusion was tiring, thought Nagi. He turned to face the ceiling again. Why couldn't he accept himself and forget about the life that was so out of reach?
Another 16 ceiling dots, he noticed, formed the horns of a devil.
But unacceptable to whom?
To whom in this world does one have to make himself acceptable? A married man would answer "My wife and kids." A bachelor, "My friends and the girl next door." Almost everyone one will ask has someone to live for.
Excuse me. Everyone has someone to live for.
One's self.
If what you do can't be accepted by yourslf, it's time to question your actions.
Somewhere I Belong
A fic by Strawb-sama
Notes: I don't own Wei§ and Linkin Park's "Somewhere I Belong".
He lay there. Again. He lay there in bed. Again. He lay there in bed fighting insomnia.
Again.
In the past three hours, Naoe Nagi had become well aware that there were 346 dots on his ceiling, 11 formed a constellation of a computer, and another 61 formed what looked scarily like Crawford's face. Complete with the glasses. After 1611 sheep had jumped over the fence, a devil image on himself had blown up the fence with a hand grenade.
Did he even have an angel image?
When this began
I had nothing to say
His line of work hadn't ever been his fault. Nagi could clearly recall the day he was literally picked up off the sidewalk by one Bradely Crawford, kicking and screaming at the American. He'd never chosen to be some evil assassin.
Ah, said the Devil-Nagi inside his head, but you chose to stay.
And he hated it.
And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me
I was confused
And I'd let it all out to find that I'm
Not the only person with these things in mind
Inside of me
Ever since then, what relieved him, what he took solace in, was the music. He'd decided that there was nothing like a a random song one would discover, and itÕs pit oneÕs mood perfectly. It made one feel better about oneself. The boy felt, when lost in the world of his own CDs, that he was not alone.
He was, though.
He was the only "bad guy" that didn't want to be.
I don't mean just not be a bad guy. Naoe Nagi didn't want to be at all.
He had nothing, and wanted either everything or the end.
But all the vacancy the words revealed
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel
Nothing to lose
Just stuck, hollow and alone
And the fault is my own
And the fault is my own
He sighed and rolled over to face his stereo. Why not? Why couldn't he have everything? He had nothing. He wanted either everything or the end. And why did it have to end? It could go that way, but why couldnÕt Nagi get everything he wanted?
"What do I want?" he said aloud.
I want to heal
I want to feel
What I thought was never real
I want to let go of the pain I've held so long (erase all the pain till it's gone)
He knew, and yet did not. He wanted anything but the life he led. He did not know what life he'd rather have. He wanted to forget all his painful memories. He did not know what kind of new memories to create and use as a replacement. He wanted to have a storybook life. He did not know what the chapters would be called.
But the setting would not be at 3:41 am in the Schwarz mansion in Tokyo, Japan. It'd be somewhere he belonged.
I want to heal
I want to feel
Like I'm close to something real
I want to find something I've wanted all along
Somewhere I belong
Confusion was tiring, thought Nagi. He turned to face the ceiling again. Why couldn't he accept himself and forget about the life that was so out of reach?
Another 16 ceiling dots, he noticed, formed the horns of a devil.