Hello there ^_^ heres the next chapter. Remember i dont own homestuck!
There are times when I sincerely hate my brain damage. It`s not because it makes me appear so helpless either. Trust me that stage passed a while ago. I hate it because of how it`s fucked with my memories. Yes, it sucks that I can't remember some things, well, a lot of things. But as I've said previously, I can remember some really important things. I remember tulip! I remember video games and my whole entire name! My name is Mituna Captor and I know that I am a whole 9 sweeps old. See! I remembered even more stuff! I`m a captor and my dancestoris the completely NOT disabled Sollux Captor. We both have a total of 4 horns and a vision 2 fold, or well, did have a vision 2 fold. I remember who I am and where I'm from. Is that enough to prove I can in fact remember things? No? Oh well then, but that's not the focus of this of this session. There's other, more moving, memories I would like to share.
I`m going to share the memories that haunt my dreams at night. And to be completely honest, when I say haunt, it doesn't mean that all the dreams are complete insomnia inducing-bone shaking-screaming-nightmares. Some of my memories are ever so bitter sweet with happy endings. There are ones that are in fact insomnia inducing-bone shaking-screaming- nightmares though. Most of those dreams are a collage of very detailed flashbacks of my friends' untimely deaths. Stupid Meenah. But I'm completely used to those visions by. It`s the breathtakingly beautiful memories that linger in my head long after I've woken up. It`s the memories of what I used to be that haunt me.
One of the most reoccurring memories that really dose a number on my mentality is one of me playing games with tulip. In the memory, I am sitting with her on her hive floor playing Trollcalibur on her Grub-station 2. We happily tap away at the controllers. We achieve all these crazy, or `radical` in tulips words, combos and special attacks. Then I win. I get so happy, throw my hands up and smile. Tulip laughs and congratulates me. She`s not mad or telling me to stop apologizing. She laughs, leans in and kisses me cheek, then tells me she's totally going to beat me next time. I laugh and tell her to bring it on. I don't swear at her and slur out a string of sexually degrading puns and insults. We just laugh and play another round.
After dreams like that, I wake up sobbing loudly. I cry because I used to be such a tolerable person. I used to be a tolerable and NICE person to play with as well. I actually used to win games fairly. Tulip actually used to play Trollcalibur with me. Now tulip doesn't play with or even let me play Trollcalibur anymore. She`s like this because I can't play it anymore. I end up spazzing out and hurting myself. Now when I lose games I become an intolerable prick the spews degrading insults and bad sportsmanship along with a side of violent rage quitting and throwing things. Poor tulip has to deal with me. I never wanted it to be this way. This way, where I'm insulting and rude to her. But I intend to talk to her personally in this shitty documentary. I want my apology to be directed her and no one else.
When I wake up crying I usually ending up waking up Tulip. She doesn't ask anymore, cause she knows it'll just get worse. So she just hugs me and smooths my hair, occasionally kissing the top of my head. I remember the times I would wake up from a vision and be able to confide in my little tulip about what had happened. Communication is important you know? Now I'm incomprehensible and can't get it out. Another reason she doesn't ask is because she knows I'm no longer capable of stringing my thoughts into words in a way she can understand. So instead she just wipes my tears and holds me till I fall asleep.
On the nights where my heads not so bitter sweet in attempting to remind me that tulip loves me, there's others. On occasion I have some about my friendship with Cronus. I remember him and me making jokes and laughing. We would tell little Muelin really fucked up or kinky stories about Kurloz and she`d run back to him to question him about them. We`d make their matespritship as awkward as we possibly could. We would make sex jokes around them until they were so flushed in face. We`d laugh and joke till we ourselves were flushed in the face.
But now I'm his punching bag. I can see all the pain and despair in his eyes from the lingering memories of what we once were. I can see it in his eyes that it`s hard for him to look me in the face now that I`m like this. It hurts me to be honest. It hurts me cause now all he can do to let it out is badger and insult me. It hurts because we used to be the best of friends.
On the nights I`m plagued with these memories I just awake and stare blankly at the celling. I then get up and stumble outside to stare at the stars. I look at them and wonder why these are the memories that come back to me. I wonder why my returning memories can`t be harmless ones, like memories of me taking a shit or something. I think things like, why the fuck my memories are hell bent on crushing me. But the truth is I'll never know, and over time I've forced myself to accept this fact. I don`t need curiosity to fuck me or Muelin for that matter, more then we already are.
The Last of the memories that plague my shallow excuse of an existence are visions of what my heir of doom abilities once were. The memories are usually of me telling my friends about their own or others horrid impending death, which they then avoid. but then their are the ones where I tell them of their horrid demise and they put me off. Then comes the indescribable feeling after they've parted. Like when I told everyone we were all going to die, and no one believed me. Of course every memory like that is followed by detailed flash backs that appear periodically the day after they`ve haunted my sleep.
In the beginning all I felt was immense amounts of dread and pain. As if their piece of my memory was being forcibly ripped out of me in some tortuous manner. I would sometimes even cry silently, and to be completely honest I still do from time to time. The physical tears passed in the days when the original event happened. but now, I cry in my messed up, broken mind. Eventually I realize I could have done nothing to help my friends more then I already had. They had their own minds and thoughts.
The last thing that really gets to me isn't a thought, a vision, or a memory at all. It`s the blurriness and disability of my eyes. It`s physical and it triggers so many undesired thoughts. Every once in a while they trigger a flash back of my "burn out". My eyes will burn in unbelievable pain and my eye sight flashes in red and blue. This all happens in a haze of screaming in my head and my blood boiling. But by now, I'm strangely used to all the pain
I hate memories.
And that`s that for that one. Comment rate & review ^_^